Blood Kiss (Savage Security Series Book 1) Page 2
“That’s because of the polymer frame. The barrel is metal. How does it feel?” Scott asked. “Is it comfortable?” He watched her as she studied the gun in her hand.
She nodded. “Yes, it fits my hand well.” She rewrapped her fingers around the grip and liked the look. Something inside her clicked. The weight of the gun in her hand emboldened her. She felt empowered. She couldn’t help but smile as she realized she was one step closer to reclaiming her life.
Scott took her hand in his and examined how her hand fit around the grip. “It looks good,” he said with a nod. “You should consider a lock box. Are children frequently at your home?”
Alisha shrugged. “I don’t have kids, but my nieces come over a lot.” The last thing she wanted was for one of them to get hurt. Their father had guns at home. He taught them gun safety, but as a teacher she knew kids didn’t always make the best choices.
“Follow me,” Scott said. He made his way around the gun case and joined her. “The lockboxes are over here.” He led her down one of the aisles and stopped in front of the lockboxes. They came in a variety of sizes. Some cases were long and soft shelled for rifles, there were rectangular metal boxes for multiple guns, and some looked like miniature safes.
“All of these are good,” he waved his hand in front of a small section, “but this would be a good match for your needs.” He placed a finger on a box constructed of metal that looked a lot like an old-fashioned briefcase with a numbered keypad added to it.
She shook her head and looked up at Scott. “Do you have any Barska safes? Is there anything that opens with a fingerprint?” That type caught her eye when she did her research on the internet. She hoped he had those in stock.
“Biometric?” Scott said. “Yes.”
Mike was impressed. She’d done her homework. But it was still painfully obvious that she had limited experience with guns. He didn’t like the idea of a novice handling a gun without guidance.
The door chime buzzed, and Scoot looked over at Mike.
Mike gave a quick nod to Scott and set his magazine down. He walked around the counter and approached the men that entered the store. He wanted Scott focused on Alisha. She needed his help more than the two regulars that showed up.
Scott led her farther down the aisle. “We have several biometric safes. They are considerably more expensive.” He placed his hand on top of one. “This Barska will meet your needs.”
Alisha knelt beside the shelf and opened the door of the safe. It appeared to be constructed of thick metal. The box seemed big enough. There was plenty of space for a gun and ammo. She liked that her nieces wouldn’t be able to get into it. She wasn’t even sure she’d keep the gun in the safe when no one else was around. In an attack, every second counted. The price was a little more than she wanted to pay, but safety was more important than saving a few dollars. “I’ll take it,” she said, standing and resting her hands on her hips.
Mike glanced over at her, noting that she hadn’t balked at the cost of the gun or the safe. She either had a nice nest egg, or she was terrified and willing to pay anything for her safety.
“Perfect. Let’s get your ammo.” Scott led her to the shelving loaded with different types of ammo. He picked up a box and held it out to her. “You need the 9mm.”
She nodded and took the box. She was glad he made the choice for her. There were so many different brands to choose from, and she really didn’t know one brand from another.
The box was heavier than she expected. “Put it on my tab,” she said with a smile. With each item, she felt the weight that crushed her lighten. Apparently Roosevelt was on the right track. Carrying a big stick, or gun for that matter, was an effective way to deal with troublemakers.
Mike rang the men up and put their items in bags. He didn’t miss that the men glanced over at Alisha on their way out the door. He gave her a glance too and liked that she was relaxing. She’d even started making little jokes while she talked with Scott. Her body had been tense with anxiety when she first entered the store, but as she talked, she’d relaxed. Perhaps sharing her situation with someone had eased some of her burden, and it didn’t hurt that she probably felt empowered by the safety the gun offered.
Scott smiled and led her back to the gun case near Mike. He set the box of ammunition on the case, and then taught her how to remove the magazine and load the ammo. It took her a few tries to master the loading process. Pressing down the cartridge and putting a new one in place could be tricky for novices, especially weak ones.
“My bullet keeps slipping,” she said as she tried to load the magazine. Scott repositioned her thumb on the cartridge. She pressed down to make room for the next cartridge. Then she successfully slipped the new cartridge into the magazine.
“How many of these does it hold?” She looked up at him. She’d never realized how weak her hands were. She worked out, but mostly cardio stuff. Her upper body strength was pathetic. She probably had students who could beat her in an arm wrestling competition.
“Fifteen for this magazine” Scott said. “There is a larger one. It holds 33, but it protrudes from the bottom of the grip.”
“Wow,” she said. “Let’s hope I never need more than fifteen.” She laughed nervously and stroked her thumb along the side of the magazine.
“I hope you never need one,” Scott said. He loved his job. His favorite part was meeting people who shared his passion, but when he worked with scared people, it hung a dark cloud over his favorite past-time. That he didn’t like. He hated to see anyone scared or suffer. He’d had enough of that to last a lifetime.
Scott walked her through the process of loading the Glock and the basic mechanics of the gun. Then he showed her how to clear chambered rounds and clean the gun.
Mike couldn’t help but steal some looks from his perch on the stool. She paid rapt attention to everything Scott said. She asked questions when needed, and she seemed to pick everything up quickly.
“There are some great videos on YouTube if you need a refresher on any of this.” Scott slid a piece of paper towards her. “Here are some gun safety classes that are offered at the shooting range. You need to take one as soon as possible.”
She glanced over the paper. She recognized the name of one of the shooting ranges. “Thanks, I’ll definitely do that,” she said and shoved the paper into her purse. He’d covered so much with her that it felt as if her brain were drowning in information. There was no way she could possibly absorb everything. YouTube was definitely in her future.
Scott rang up her items and took her credit card. “You can always come back here if you need help. I’ll be happy to answer any questions for you.”
“Thanks,” Alisha replied. She liked Scott’s smile. His dimples softened his face and made him seem more approachable. It was obvious now why his store had so many positive reviews online. He was good with people, and she appreciated that he hadn’t talked down to her while he was explaining everything to her. Not once did she feel stupid for asking him a question. And she’d asked some pretty basic questions.
Mike set the gun magazine down on the counter and stood. Alisha’s eyes flit towards him as he moved. He knew he was intimidating. That usually worked for him, but with women, sometimes he had to convince them that he wasn’t dangerous, at least not to them. “I’m actually heading over to the shooting range now,” Mike said. He leaned against the counter and rested one arm on top of the display case. “You really need some practice with the Glock.” He pointed at her new gun on the case. “If you’re willing, I’ll help you.”
He wanted to help her. His conscience would gnaw at him like a rabid dog if he let her walk away. He intended to help her until he felt confident that she could handle the gun. Inwardly he willed her to accept his offer while he kept his outward appearance nonchalant and casual. She was already skittish. He didn’t want to scare her away by being too pushy.
Alisha stared at him, unsure how to respond. He was a big guy. Not as tall as Scott but broad
and well-muscled. His dark hair was cut short and tiny scars etched his face and arms. His t-shirt stretched tight across his broad chest and tattoos peeked out from his short sleeves. There was no way she was getting in a car with him. She didn’t come to the gun store to pick up an even more dangerous man.
Scott fought the desire to smile at her ‘deer in the headlights’ look. She’d finally relaxed, but at Mike’s offer, her face went blank and she blinked a few too many times without answering. “He’s right,” Scott said, he lifted one shoulder casually in an attempt to encourage her to accept. “It’s a good idea. There’s a lot to learn about handling a gun, and you need to practice. In a real-life situation, it’s the muscle memory that gets you through when your mind goes into panic mode. Plus, Mike knows his way around guns. You couldn’t get a better instructor.”
Mike read the concern in her eyes as he waited for her reply. He wasn’t surprised at her hesitation. She didn’t come in here to pick up a man. She came in here to defend herself from a guy who scared the hell out of her. And there was no way that he wanted to be lumped into that category.
“We can meet there. It‘s a public range,” Mike added. “No pressure.” He smiled and shrugged his shoulder in indifference. “I’ll give you the address. You can decide in the car how you feel.” He’d say just about anything to convince her to accept his offer. She needed his help whether she realized it or not.
Alisha smiled and gave a quick nod. “That works.” She did need practice, and she figured that he had to be better than a YouTube video.
“Good,” Mike said. “I’ll carry the safe out to your car.” He walked around the counter, picked up the safe, and waited behind her as she gathered the rest of her stuff together. He smiled when she looked over her shoulder at him. Then she dug through her gigantic purse for her key fob. What the hell did she keep in there? It was bigger than his go bag.
Alisha dangled her key fob and tried not to stare at his biceps as he held the safe. She’d struggled to lift it. She really did need to start lifting weights. “Thanks,” she said to Mike, nodding at the safe. Then she turned towards the store exit. “I’m right out front.”
She figured the muscular arms that she did her best not to gawk at were either from hours of lifting weights in a prison yard or from training in the military. He was clearly not a man who sat behind a desk staring at a computer for eight hours a day.
She felt his presence behind her as she walked towards the door. She didn’t know what she was thinking, to even consider meeting a man who clearly had more world experience than she did. She’d lived a good life, had been moderately sheltered, and always dated the right kind of guys. This man was nothing like the typical guy that she spent time with.
She did like his eyes though. They were a nice shade of green, but they’d clearly seen too much. There was an edge to them, perhaps a haunting that he couldn’t shake. Even as he sat reading the magazine she’d noticed the strength in his face. It was obvious that he liked to be in charge. Was he demanding and bossy? That would be a problem. She didn’t find controlling men sexy. And that’s what made the decision to meet him difficult.
Did she want to open the door of her life to him by meeting him at the shooting range? What were his expectations? Perhaps he’s just a nice guy offering to help a girl out. She rolled her eyes at herself when she realized that was as ridiculous as thinking that having a ‘secret admirer’ was normal.
She pushed against the door and stepped outside. The temperature had dropped, and it was nearly dark. The fall nights came too early. She clicked the key fob, and the car chirped.
Mike saw the headlights flash and headed towards the silver Altima. “We should put this stuff in the trunk,” he said.
She clicked the trunk button on the fob and lifted the trunk door. Her trunk was organized. He liked that. A large, copy paper box filled with files, notebooks, and text books took up the center space of the trunk, while a sweatshirt was stuffed into the corner beside one of the brake lights.
“Here, let me get that,” she said, setting the gun and ammo in the trunk. She shoved the copy paper box aside to make room for the lockbox in the center.
Alisha checked out the muscles in his arms and back as he set the lockbox in the trunk. Was he Dr. Doom or Captain America?
Mike closed the trunk door and leaned against the car. He stared at the bright orange strip of sky along the western horizon while impending darkness crept towards them from the east. He didn’t want to push her, but he did want to keep her safe. He realized pressuring her wouldn’t help his case, so he did his best to sound encouraging without being overbearing. He wasn’t going to fail this time. This time the victim would survive. “I’m going to head over to Iron Sights,” he said. “It’s on highway 55.”
She liked the sound of his voice. The deep, gentle rumble set her at ease. He sounded confident and capable, and she appreciated that he wasn’t pressuring her. “Yeah, I know it. I’ve past it before,” she said, playing with the zipper toggle on her purse. Her brother practiced at that shooting range.
She still hadn’t decided whether to meet him there or not. She could definitely use the one-on-one instruction, but she wasn’t sure she was ready for one-on-one time alone with him. She knew nothing about him. She really didn’t need more drama in her life right now.
He gave her a crooked smile and dug his key fob out of his pocket. “I’m the black truck.” He pointed to the Titan parked two spaces down from her. “You can follow me if you like.” He gazed into her eyes. He liked the way compassion seemed to pour from them. He could easily get sucked under those blue waves. He’d seen so much tragedy in his life that he craved the innocence and peace so many enjoyed and took for granted.
“Sure,” she said, opening the car door. She tossed her purse onto the passenger seat. “Thanks for your help with the safe,” she said, tilting her head up to look him in the eyes. Even though his face was weathered, she recognized goodness in his gaze. Her gut told her that he was a good guy.
“Of course,” Mike said with shrug. “Happy to help.” And he meant it. He couldn’t go back in time. He couldn’t change the past, but he could help prevent another innocent’s death. Saving people was a habit for him. It was encoded in his DNA. He wasn’t superman, but he did have certain talents that came in handy when lives were on the line.
She slid onto the seat and closed the door with a thud. She eyed him as he strode to his truck, and it chirped as he unlocked it. At the sound of the rumble of his engine, she rested her hands on her steering wheel and looked at the Young Guns store. She’d entered the store filled with concern, but she left it with determined self-reliance.
2
He’d kept his distance all day, watching her as she completed her tasks. Just being in her vicinity calmed him. He wasn’t surprised when she pulled into the strip mall. She came here often, at least once a week. Her favorite take-out was the honey-crispy chicken with white rice.
He eased his truck into a parking space in an adjacent parking lot and stared at her when she got out of the car. Could she sense his presence? His pulse raced when her eyes flit his way as she scanned her surroundings. Anxiety coiled in his gut when she entered Young Guns instead of the Chinese restaurant.
What did she go in there for? As the minutes passed, the anxiety unraveled and rushed through his veins and tensed his muscles. He nervously popped a few Tic Tacs into his mouth and crunched them as he stared at the store, waiting for her to exit.
He cursed himself. He’d noticed the change in her: the dark rings under her hypnotizing blue eyes, her distraction, and worst of all, her bubbly personality was flattening, like soda that’s been left out too long. The soda still looked the same, but it left a yucky taste in your mouth. That was how her spirit had changed. Her beauty still shone through, but a dark cloud seemed to hang over her, obscuring her natural glow.
He tried to recall when this change in her started as he thought back on their courting period. Sh
e’d been so excited when she received the flowers that he sent. Her face had glowed with excitement, but as the days went by, she’d grown distracted. He’d feared she was sad because he hadn’t contacted her again, so he decided to cheer her up.
The following day he’d left a note of encouragement under her windshield wiper. He even spritzed the paper with his cologne, hoping the scent could be his ‘calling card’. The danger of that boldness thrilled him. What if she recognized him before he was ready for her? His plan could be destroyed, and he could lose her forever. But he left the scented note anyway.
Disappointment nearly overwhelmed him as he watched her read his love letter. He was confused by the expression on her face. Instead of the excitement that radiated off of her the day she carried the beautiful flowers to her car, her eyebrows pulled down in confusion as she looked around the school parking lot. He knew she wouldn’t see him. He watched her from the visitor parking lot, and he blended in with the other cars. His secret was safe, but his desire for her gained momentum. He wanted to cross the parking lot, wrap his arms around her and kiss the concern off her face, but that wasn’t on the agenda for that day. He’d made a schedule. He intended to keep it.
Saddened to see that she was disappointed with his note, he resolved to console her. Figuring that he’d gone over the top with the bouquet and that he’d set the wooing bar too high, he changed his strategy. He would give her a few days and then give her another gift.
When he could wait no longer to see her happiness, he left a little bag on her front porch. He’d spent a lot of time choosing the bag. The store had so many options, and he didn’t want to choose the wrong one. Alisha was used to nice things. She had refined taste and good manners, so the bag had to be just right. He’d finally settled on a pink leopard print bag with a fringe of black cord wrapped around the top. It was flirty and fun but not slutty, just like her.