Blood Kiss (Savage Security Series Book 1) (2 page)

Scott drummed his fingers on the glass of the gun case. He could feel the tension coming off of Mike. “Have you spoken with the police?”

Alisha barked out a laugh. “They were useless. No crime has been committed, so they won’t investigate. And since I don’t even know his name, I can’t get a restraining order.” She huffed and slowly shook her head in frustration. “Hopefully they’ll be more interested in solving my murder when they find my dead body.” She hated that someone scared her so much that when she commented on her death, she knew it was a possibility.

None of that surprised Mike. The police had limited resources and needed to prioritize their cases. They didn’t do the grunt work on unrequited love issues when they had serious crimes to deal with.

“I see. So you want a gun to feel safe,” Scott said. “Have you filled out the permit form?”

“Yes,” Alisha said. “I have it right here.” She dug in her purse and grabbed her wallet. Opening it, she pulled out the permit and laid it on top of the gun case.

Scott scanned it. “Well, let’s get you a gun.” He gave a firm nod and tapped his fingers on the glass. “There are a few things you have to consider when you buy a gun,” he began, and then counted the reasons on his fingers. “It needs to fit comfortably in your hand, be easy to use and maintain, and powerful enough to stop an attacker.”

Alisha sucked in a breath as she stared at the guns.
Stop an attacker.
Would she really have to do that? She’d never imagined that she would need to shoot someone. That just wasn’t something she’d ever dreamt necessary, but standing here beside the gun cases made the possibility of shooting someone real. She wasn’t sure how she felt about that. She knew she’d pull the trigger to save herself, but she prayed it would never come to that. She didn’t want to be in this predicament. She just wanted the man to go away.

Scott unlocked the sliding door on the gun case and pulled out a compact handgun. He released the magazine and completed the safety check by looking down the ejection port. Then he laid the two pieces on the glass. “This would be my first choice for you. It’s a Glock 19. It’s compact, has a dual recoil spring system that cuts down on the recoil, and it can hold plenty of bullets in the magazine.”

Alisha picked up the gun, taking note of how the grip felt against her skin. “It’s lighter than I thought,” she said, glancing at Scott.

“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.