“Niko caught my hand and slapped it lightly down on the bar. “Pistol whipping elderly women isn’t precisely our mission statement, Cal.” I hadn’t been going to pistol-whip her. Yell at her a little more, then pick her up and toss her out into the street. Some risk of a broken hip there, but that wasn’t pistol-whipping… unless she tried to come back in.”
“I turn even more flustered when I remember that I have actually pistol-whipped him in the face before. Romantic.”
“Did you just mentally pistol whip that guy, with his own gun? Nice, Amber. I would have just killed him.”
“She had expected a pistol to seem light and natural-a seamless extension of her angry feral self.”
“That’s all she cared about—protecting her brother, who was probably some fop with a lame sword hand and a fear of pistols!”
“I've given her signs! I've given her plenty of signs. What does she want me to do? Slap him across the face with my glove, and challenge him to pistols at dawn?”