“What are you doing?” Roan asked, pushing back into his seat, eyes wide. Holding the gun by the barrel, I held it out to him so he could take the grip. “Take this.” “What? No.” I grabbed his hand and slapped it against the grip, forcibly curling his fingers around it. “If anyone but me comes to the car, shoot them.” “Sasha!” “You have fifteen rounds. There’s no safety. Just pull the trigger.” I squeezed his hand briefly and got out of the car.
