Bookshelf With Hidden Gun Storage Novels & Stories

She only replies with: “you know where the gun is if something happens” Yes, she gave me a gun. And yes, I still have it, loaded, hidden in the secret compartment Blake made for me in my dresser. I’m not sure how I feel about taking it with me to Lorenzo’s place, but I don’t want anyone to find unregistered gun in my studio. I don’t want to go to jail. I know, it’s probably an unreasonable fear cause who would search through my things for it, but I can’t help but feel uneasy about leaving it there while I’m away. It gives me a sense of security. I don’t feel so helpless with it; it gives me a way to protect myself.

My jaw literally drops on the floor, heart slamming against my ribcage. The place is wide, bearing that familiar look of a standardized CEO office with a large mahogany desk and swivel chair, a mini fridge, flowers, artworks, overhead light that chases away shadows, a black leather couch, coffee table, carpet, and many more I can't name. However, none of these sends a barrage of chills down my spine except the hundreds of guns I see lined up on the shelves that span across the room— Glocks, RPGs, revolvers, MK 47, muzzleloaders, and many more.

I find the gun while looking for our tax documents. It's hidden in the back of his home office closet, behind a false panel I only discovered because I dropped my phone and it slid under the shelving unit. When I reached back to grab it, my fingers brushed against something that felt wrong, a seam that shouldn't be there, and curiosity made me investigate further.

It wasn’t until I was about to turn and leave, giving up my search, that I noticed something on the floor that drew my attention. Dirt streaked the floor in one particular area as if something had been moved across the hardwood floors, leaving a small groove where it had slid. My brows furrowed as I pushed aside a few shirts and noticed something else behind them on the wall. My fingers brushed over the wall as I pushed lightly and heard the click of something that caused me to jump just as the wall opened by itself to reveal a secret cubby. A cubby that when the lights turned on was full of weapons. Or more specifically…guns.

Adrian asks, assembling all his men. "Did you try anything?" He asks, looking at us. "I knew you were insane, but I didn't know you were dumb too" I tell him "With all the chains, what exactly do you think we can do? Ask your men, maybe one of them tipped them off" I nod my head towards his assembled men in the room, who have look of fear on their faces, knowing anything can happen as far as it has to do with Adrian, who's holding a loaded gun.

Before he had left, he’d gone into the one place in the mansion no one else knew about—a private room hidden during the construction of the house, camouflaged behind a wall panel in his study. The room had no windows, just shelves of metal cases, weapons, and a single workbench. Devon had unlocked a case, removed a polished black pistol, and loaded it with practiced hands. He slid it into the holster at the small of his back, hidden under a dark jacket. The hand grenade went into the inner breast pocket of that same jacket, positioned so his fingers could find it in seconds if needed. This was the part of his life he had buried, the skills he had tried to forget. Now, they were all he had.

I stopped and smiled. I walked in, bought the outfit, then went to the store and bought the peach cobbler from the bakery. I sat outside the store in the little deli chairs provided and savored every bit of the peach cobbler. When I was done, I went back to the house. Something felt different, though. Immediately, my senses went into full focus. I’m hidden here. I went dark. I did everything I needed to close the gap. I quietly went to the side of the house. I opened a loose brick, where I had hidden a gun when I first moved in.

I was looking for a place to hide when I heard a small growl come from my backpack. The chihuahua ran back into its house, which was strange. I run and hide in a small storage unit for garden tools. I can see them moving around through a small hole. I silently hope they leave, but I'm so close yet so far away. Just as I think they're about to leave, one of them starts to open the storage, no-no-no. The sound of a rifle being loaded can be heard before he can open the door.

It had a modern Bohemian flare to it and in all honesty this style is one that I loved personally for myself. From first teleporting into space, we were in what looked like the living room. There was an old pasty pink Victorian style couch plastered smack in the middle of the space. An old brown trunk that held plenty of plants on top to the right of the couch. Metal shelving which had crates of old records and more plants to the left of the couch. And a Chester drawer with a stereo and record player on top. From the looks of it, all the plants were real- not fake.

It was a small office area with a monogamy brown desk and chair facing the door, by the right wall was a series of weapons like guns, bullets, knives, etc in transparent shelves. There was no way this room wouldn't have a camera so she quickly started searching everywhere, by opening every drawer in there, she even checked under the chair for any secret shelves. "Gosh, this is tiring." She breathed tiringly before continuing searching again, she sighted a bookshelf in a corner and thought that it was absurd so she went there, she racked her fingers through it and felt some dust at her fingertips. She doubted anyone had touched these books so why were they here?