A terrifying discovery

This is a continuation of my story.  If you missed the first part click here.

I was still in shock.  My sister called the police.  Soon there were five police cars with two officers in each on the street and in our driveway.  He made a break for it out the back door.  They chased him down, and within minutes he was sitting in the back of one of the patrol cars.

The questioning seemed urgent and chaotic.  Three officers were standing over me, one wanted to take pictures of my neck.  After things started to calm down, and the shock wore off, I had one last request of the officers.

While deep cleaning our home a few weeks back I made a terrifying discovery.  I had been vacuuming in our bedroom, and it kept hitting something under the bed.  Kneeling on the floor I reached for the object.  It was a shotgun, but it didn't look like the one my father had owned and kept locked up when I was a girl.  This one was shorter, and the end looked rough.

After confronting him about the gun laying under our bed, I demanded that it be moved to the garage and locked up.  He laughed at me, and assured me it was fine where it was.  I could tell immediately this was not an argument I would win, but I made it very clear I wasn't happy.  We had a baby that would be crawling some day.  What if he found the gun and thought it was a toy?  He told me if I was doing my job as a mother I shouldn't have anything to worry about.

So, with the police standing there, and him arrested and leaving my home, I wanted the gun to go with them.  I brought it out of the bedroom.  After handing it over one of the officers told me that it was illegal to have a "sawed off shotgun".  I told the officer it was his, so it should go with him. They said they couldn't take it, and that I should get rid of it as soon as possible. 

Let me ask you, 'How do you get rid of a sawed off shotgun?'

As the police pulled away from my home, and friends and family gathered around, a new type of shock started taking root.  Advice and comfort could not dispel the anger, hurt, and disbelief of what had just happened.

Before I met this man I'd been a strong, independent, resourceful woman.  Now I was unsure, scared, and feeling completely inept at handling anything.  What was I going to do?