In Safe Hands (Search and Rescue #4)(52)

“Dais!” Chris snapped. “Hands up. Don’t drop your guard.”

Her fists lifted in front of her face. “I just feel bad for assaulting Rory.”

“Don’t.” Rory returned to her original position and adjusted the kick shield. “I need to learn this, just in case I don’t have a gun at exactly the wrong moment. Besides”—her teeth bared in more of a snarl than a smile—“I want to be able to take Ian down eventually. It’ll be useful for keeping him in line.”

“Heard that,” Ian called from his spot by the heavy bag.

Daisy’s laugh took the power out of her next side kick, and she had to hop on her standing left leg to keep her balance as her right barely brushed Rory’s shield.

“Daisy. Focus.” Chris was crabbier than usual. She wondered if it was just the night shift taking its toll, or if he’d had a bad call. The thought kept her from making a smart-ass response. Instead, she concentrated on the target, and her foot connected solidly with the shield. Although Rory’s breath left her in an audible huff, she kept her position.

“Nice, Ror!” Daisy grinned at her and was rewarded by one of Rory’s brief smiles.

Quickly regaining her serious mien, Rory ordered, “Again.”

“Great,” Daisy muttered, although she obediently sent her foot toward the shield again. “She’s turning into Chris the Dictator’s mini-me.”

Rory gave her another one of her pseudo grins that Daisy thought were just an excuse to bare her teeth. “Just wait until I teach you to shoot.”

“How can you do that?” The next kick connected solidly. Daisy loved that feeling. “It’s not like I can shoot up the living room. Well”—her foot hit the shield again—“I could, but my dad would probably be annoyed when he saw the damage.”

Rory tilted her head in thought, not looking discouraged. “We could shoot through a window.”

“No,” Chris said flatly, without looking away from his attempt to correct Lou’s form.

“It’d need to be an upstairs window.” As always, George’s deep voice came as a surprise. Pausing in the middle of a push-up, he braced his arms and held his body weight off the floor with an effortlessness that Daisy envied. “Metal grates on the ones down here. You’d have to angle the target to adjust for the shooter’s height if she was on the second story.” Shifting to one arm, he illustrated his words by lifting his hand and holding it at a diagonal. The ease with which he supported his body with one arm and his toes made Daisy stare.

“No shooting out the windows.” Ian put a hand on the heavy bag to steady it while he sent a warning glare over his shoulder at Rory. “This is not the Old West, and our homestead is not under attack.”

“It’d be good practice for defending the house from zombies.” Since Rory was the queen of deadpan humor, Daisy wasn’t sure if she was serious or not.

“Can I practice shooting from the window, too?” Lou asked, exertion making her breathless. “I’ll bring my new gun. This’ll be so much fun.”

“We’ll only aim at the annoying neighbors,” Rory promised. That time, Daisy was sure she was kidding. Fairly sure.

“No.” Callum added his voice to the chorus that time.

Rory rolled her eyes, as if the guys’ protests were ridiculous. “Fine. No shooting the obnoxious neighbors. I’m sure there’s at least one window in this place that faces an unpopulated area. Daisy, again.”

As Daisy obeyed, she tried to decide if training-tyrant Rory or gun-toting Rory was scarier.

“Have her dry fire at a target,” Ellie suggested from her spot on the elliptical machine. “When do I get to kick people?”

Looking at Ellie with surprise and, Daisy was pretty sure, dawning respect, Rory nodded. “Good idea. Get her comfortable with it until we figure out how to work around the not-leaving-the-house thing. I’ll bring a couple of handguns for you on Saturday.”

“And you get to kick people when the doctor clears you to kick people,” Chris answered Ellie. George, apparently done talking for the day, grunted. Although Daisy was still learning to interpret George-speak, she was pretty sure it translated as something like, “What he said.”

Ellie grinned. “Should I ask the doctor to write me a note specifically stating that I am healed enough to kick, knee, elbow, and punch others?”

“I have to get to work.” Callum extended the kick shield toward George. “Mind taking my spot?”

With a nod, George rolled to his feet and moved to stand opposite Lou, who appeared to be taking full advantage of her break. Her hands were braced above her knees as she panted for breath.

Dropping a kiss on Lou’s cheek, Callum asked, “Sure you don’t need the truck today? You could drop me off at the station.”

“Nope, I’ll be fine. We’re going to have some breakfast here while we talk about death.”

“Okay. Call me if you need anything.” Callum headed for the door.

“Don’t I always?” Lou called after him. “Have a nice day at work, honey!”

Turning away from her departing boyfriend, Lou eyed George’s massive form. “I’m glad I’m the one doing the kicking.”

“Be right back,” Daisy told Rory, who looked a little relieved to drop the shield and shake out her arms.