Key Glock Wife Novels & Stories

thigh through the fabric of the wedding dress and when it comes up there's a gun in it and she puts two shots into the ceiling — controlled, deliberate, the room-stopping crack of it cutting through everything — and then she has the muzzle trained on the man from the service entrance and her voice is completely level when she says: "Don't." He stops. In the sudden terrible stillness of a room where the music has stopped and the screaming hasn't started yet, I process several things simultaneously. My wife has a gun she pulled from a holster strapped to her inner thigh. She fired it with the accuracy of someone who has done this before. Considerably before. The ceiling shots were intentional

The battery on my front door smart lock died, so I called a locksmith to come over. While he was working on the lock, he made small talk. "Dude, this lock comes with six spare keys. Did you lock all of them inside the apartment?" I froze. I've lived in this apartment for three years. My wife and I each have one spare key. The other three were always kept in the hallway drawer. That makes five total. So where's the sixth key?

Brandon's management team, the bodyguards, and that arrogant property manager were all instantly pinned to the ground, crying and wailing. Cassie watched the dark gun barrels aimed at her and finally broke down completely. She screamed at me hysterically, "Arthur! You can't do this to me! I'm your wife! I was wrong! I was really wrong! Make them let me go! Please! Don't you love me? You've sacrificed so much for me. You can't be this heartless!" However, the only response she got was the soldiers coldly pulling her arms behind her back and binding them tightly with restraints. Her precious designer dress was pulled out of shape. Her carefully styled hair hung in disheveled tangles, making he

But that little scene did make me think what exactly could have happened between her and the woman’s husband that provoked her into slapping him? I beckoned to the nearby guard, and when he walked over, I asked him. “Who is that woman’s husband?” “He’s but a local businessman, Alpha Bloodhound,” the guard said with a snort. “His name is Victor Graves.” “Graves.” The name stuck to my tongue, and each time I said it, it sounded more and more familiar, but I couldn’t for the life of me remember where I’d heard it. I frowned and asked the guard another question. “Do you know where my wife went?”

His father was the head of the family and when word got out that his father was considering voluntarily stepping down, he set his greedy eyes on the seat. Matteo fired the first bullet at his paid killers, missing one of them by a margin. The noise of the gunshot woke his wife up. She picked up a gun from the nightstand and hurried downstairs to her bed wears. She walked quietly into the sitting room and when she locked eyes with her husband, he signaled her over. She had barely covered half of the distance between herself and her husband when a bullet caught her in the stomach.

They are a family, but she can’t be Nikolai’s wife. Nikolai gets something from his drawer and gives it to her. It was only then that she noticed that Nikolai had been wearing a gold ring on his finger. “We’re a complete family, Belle. We’re married. That means you’re still my wife.” He said, giving Belle back her wedding ring.

“Still... I’d be more comfortable if I was in there with you.” “And I’ll be just fine.” She’d given him a stiff smile and patted him firmly on the shoulder a couple of times, hoping he’d get the picture. Stepping around him, she’d pressed the code into the door and waited for it to slide open. Now, she stood face to face with one of several monsters she could hold responsible for making her husband disappear. She took him in for a moment before pulling her Glock out of its holster and checking to make sure it was loaded. It was. She pulled a rusty metal chair out from under an equally dilapidated table with her foot and spun it around without using her hands, sitting down on it with her Gloc

Wendy’s grandmother said. Natalia let the woman in, only because wasting time to argue would make her lose time and Delilah had to be with someone quickly. She also knew that the woman would not go if she was asked to. That was now stubborn she was. “I am sorry. I knew about my grand daughter and your husband— I mean, ex-husband—” Natalia shook her head and gave a small smile. “Late ex-husband.” The older woman’s eyes widened. “What? How? What happened to him?”

His gaze softened when he saw Rachel wipe the tears from her face. "Are you alright?" "What would happen to me, huh?” Rachel smiled gently patting his hand tightly grasping my bicep as I felt the sting. "I like talking to your wife. She's a good listener." "She’s a good screamer too," Killian scoffed eyeing me up. I swallowed hard as his grip over my bicep losened, my eyes snapped at Rachel as she chuckled. A small faint, barely noticeable smile teased the corners of Killian’s mouth at Rachel’s laughter.

You're aware that you didn't have to. Naturally, I had to. We have a partnership. We are both impacted by this, and I want to know what we're going through." Before Grace could answer, a woman in a dark suit walked up to them with the professional efficiency of someone who did these interviews on a regular basis. Chen-Walker, Ms. Agent Mary is who I am. I appreciate you coming in today. With a "Of course," Grace stood up and shook Agent Mary’s hand. "This is my husband, Max Walker."