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
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
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