Page 128 of Grim

She doesn’t reply, merely continues pointing the gun at him.

Finally, when I can’t stand it anymore, I move behind her, one hand at her waist, the other covering the hand holding the gun.

“What do you need, baby?”

“Help me,” she whispers.

I move to take the gun but she shakes her head. “No. It has to be me, I just…”

She just needs my help.

Because my girl isn’t a killer.

Neither am I, even though I’ve done it more times than I can count.

So, I close my hand around hers as best I can and slide my finger over the one she has on the trigger. It’s a tight fit but with the right pressure from me, it’ll be over in a heartbeat.

“Now,” she whispers, her voice steady.

And with my finger on hers, we fire.