He looked down at the loaded gun in his hands. Maybe he should’ve left it in the shed. It looked bad coming after her armed. As if he was hunting her. But he wasn’t really going to kill her. Just talk to her and make sure she saw sense. Put down the gun, he told himself, but his hands refused to cooperate. All she has is a knife. A big knife. The best he could manage was to sling the gun onto his back.
