The number of bullets a Colt .45 semi-automatic pistol can hold: 8-14The gun my future husband owned held exactly: 0But, well Of course, I didn't know that. With guns, just like my face, the outside is scary, but much less so than what's inside. Now imagine me, Miss doesn't run even when she's clearly I see the gun in the man's boxers, sitting on the couch, dripping my own piss. I would whisper a prayer for help if I wasn't completely out of breath. Pete has his elbows resting on his knees, cracking his knuckles. He didn't say anything for a moment; he's busy thinking about how I'm going to pay him back. His eyes continue to move up and down my body. “Please,” I said in a small voice, tears rolling down my chin to my collarbones, “don’t hurt me.” » This bastard calmly shuts me up. He wiggles his little finger, and when it finally “pops,” he looks at me, smiling with the face I now call “The Idea Face.” “I’m not going to hurt you,” he slides a hand on my thigh. and my legs jump in surprise. “As long as you listen to me, you will leave here without a bullet.” Got it, baby? » I nod hastily. “Okay, please!” my mouth rushes out. He brings his hand to my face and wipes the tears from my raw cheeks with his thumb. I feel confused. I want to kiss him as much as I want to spit in his face and run. “But I’m going to use you.” I have a plan. " "What plan?" My voice shakes. "You and your church are looking to recruit new members, right? At least that's what that last bastard was talking about when he knocked on my door last week,” he growled. “Yes, we are,” I reply. Pete gets up from the couch, points at himself and smiles, "Well, you are. I look at your new member." I f...... middle of paper ......h quivering at the end . I feel like I'm on top of a tall building; dizzy and scared, as if I was going to fall out of myself. I see a landline telephone placed on his nightstand in the reflection; the buttons flash green. In particular, the numbers 9, 1 and 1 interest me a lot. I move closer to the nightstand when he bends over to fix the crease at the ends of his pants; His gun comes out, giving me a discreet warning. My hand on the nightstand, I move it closer and closer to the phone, keeping my movement as small as possible. As my fingers touch the side of the phone, I hear, “I know you’re smarter than that, Bee.” Pete whispers, looking at me in the mirror. I almost fall out of bed. I quickly put my hand back on my lap, “I-I’m- I was just-” “It looks like I have to use other means to get your compliance, baby.”