Page 7 of Grim’s Angel

“Here.”

My heartbeat pounds against my throat. “What?”

“Take it. If I force you anywhere, use it.”

I hesitate, then grab it.

It is heavier than I expect. The muzzle dips, and my finger slips inside the trigger guard.

“Easy.” Grim reaches for my hand.

His fingers brush my bruised wrist.

For one blinding second, his hand belongs to the man who crushed my wrist.

“Don’t touch me!”

I wrench away. The gun swings between us, and my hand clenches.

The shot explodes between us.

Grim twists as the bullet tears across his shoulder. Blood spreads over his charcoal shirt.

The pistol hits the pavement at my feet.

Horror empties my lungs.

“Oh my God.”

Grim looks at his shoulder. His jaw locks against the pain before those impossible silver eyes return to mine.

“You shot me, Angel.”

Chapter 2

Grim

The first woman I ever hand a gun to puts a round through me before I learn how she takes her coffee.

Blood runs hot beneath my shirt. The bullet carved through the outside of my shoulder, close enough to the old wounds to wake every nerve that never healed right.

I should be angry.

Instead, I watch McKenna Crane stare at me as if she has killed the only man in Roseburn Falls willing to help her.

“Grim?”

My road name shakes on her lips.

“I’m still standing, Angel.”

“I told you not to call me that.”

“You also shot me.”

“You gave me the gun.”

“To keep me honest. You went straight for blood.”