Page 53 of In Safe Hands
“Not your fault I blew off my boss.” With a grin, he ducked through the interior door and then looked at her over his shoulder. “And I didn’t do much. Don’t use it until we get someone out to fix it.”
“I won’t. Go on—you told the sheriff four minutes. You know he has the stopwatch running.”
“Bye, Dais.” Her name was muffled as the door swung shut behind him.
After refastening the locks, she returned to the kitchen. Gathering her laptop and the dolls’ box, she headed for the study. The house seemed too quiet in Chris’s absence. Strangely, the increased frequency of his visits was making it harder when he wasn’t there, instead of easier.
Although she tried to return to her research, she found herself staring blankly at the computer screen. Without Chris there to joke with about the dolls, she couldn’t work up any enthusiasm for the project. Normally, she liked learning new things, but too many thoughts were currently taking up space in her brain. The differences between composition and leather doll bodies just wasn’t holding her attention.
Leaning back in her desk chair, she spun in a circle. Daisy stared at the ceiling, trying to figure out what the deal was with her growing dissatisfaction. Before, she’d had moments of melancholy or loneliness, especially during sleepless nights, but she’d bounced out of it quickly. Her life wasn’t exciting—well, it hadn’t been until recently—but she’d been content…sort of.
It wasn’t just Chris’s weirdness, his switching back and forth between pushing her away and being Mr. I-Was-Worried-About-You. The walls of the house, which had always felt safe and protective, were beginning to chafe. More and more, her sanctuary felt like a trap.
After spending time with Lou, Rory, Ellie, and their respective men, Daisy wanted more. She was starting to feel like she could have more, too. They’d argued over if she was going to volunteer for the fire department or the dive team, as if it wasn’t an impossibility.
Hearing that had woken a tiny voice in the back of her mind, one that whispered how it might be conceivable, that she might not have to be trapped in her house for the rest of her life. It was a seductive glut of possibilities—getting a real job and learning how to drive and being able to make brownies whenever she got a craving, because she could pick up the eggs herself, instead of waiting until guilt drove her dad to stop by with groceries. Maybe, if she really wanted to put the cherry on the top of her fantasy, she could even go on an out-of-the-house date with Chris.
It was a wonderful dream, but it would never become reality if she fainted every time she saw an open door.
“Okay,” she said, the loudness of her voice startling her a little. She sounded almost fierce. “That’s what I want. Now how do I get that?”
Adjusting her computer so the screen faced her, Daisy opened a new browser window. After taking a deep breath and letting it out again, she began to search.
Chapter 10
Letting out a grunt, Rory stumbled back a few steps.
Daisy cringed. At least the other woman hadn’t landed on her butt like the last two times Daisy’s kicks had knocked Rory over. “Sorry! I keep forgetting you’re not Chris.”
“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.
