Total pages in book: 67
Estimated words: 63542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 63542 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 318(@200wpm)___ 254(@250wpm)___ 212(@300wpm)
“Get down!” I shout over the gunshots and shove the girls onto the ground.
“What’s going on?” Letty shouts.
“We need to get to the walk-in. Now!” I stand up just as another crash sounds behind me, breaking the last of the front windows. One of our guys shoots and takes down one of the gunmen. I see him fall to the ground.
“Hurry!” I shout as the other two creeps keep advancing toward the shop.
A loud whooshing sound fills the dining room, and next comes the heat. I risk a peek to see bottles on the floor stuffed with flaming fabric and in the next instant, flames crawl up the pastel walls.
“Oh shit! Fire!” I drop to my knees and catch a quick glimpse of Stone and Diesel fighting the men. The girls and I crawl hard and fast into the kitchen to the walk-in fridge and freezer.
“What the fuck is going on?” Maven asks as she pulls the walk-in door closed behind her.
“Don’t know.” I’m breathing heavily, and I don’t know if it’s fear, shock, my still-healing wounds, or a combination of all three. My heart pounds against my chest as fear takes hold of me. I have an idea, but there’s no point in scaring them just yet. “Fuck,” I think, picturing Diesel and Stone. Then I have a flashback to the scary scene the day I got shot. “I hope the guys are okay,” I say as sweat drips down the back of my neck.
I pull out my phone, ready to call Joaquin, but there’s no service! “Maven, my phone has no bars. What about yours?”
“Sorry, Will, I’ve never been able to get service in the walk-in. But don’t worry,” Maven says in the quiet of the fridge. “I’ve got this.” She produces a gun from under her t-shirt, pointing it at the door as it opens. Slowly.
”Careful, it could be one of the guys,” Letty says.
“Who’s there?” Maven says, her hands stock still as she aims.
Maven’s eyes widen with fear when she looks at the man standing in the open doorway, scowling at us.
“Stay back!” she shouts twice as loud as she needs to, which only enhances the wobble in her voice.
The man is the same short, stocky Hispanic man from the other day, the one who threatened me. He smiles like an evil fucking villain.
“You gonna shoot me?” He laughs at Maven and steps forward. “Don’t worry, Mouse. I only want the mouthy bitch,” he growls and nods in my direction.
I see Maven freeze in place, her hazel eyes wide, but her finger isn’t on the trigger.
“Shoot,” I whisper, but I know it’s useless. In her panic, she can’t hear me.
The guy steps forward, and my heart gallops in my chest because he wants me. He already told me what he wants to do to me, and I am not ready to die.
I snatch the gun from Maven’s hand and take aim. “Back the fuck up.”
He laughs again. “If the old woman can’t shoot me, I know you can’t.” I smile at the uncertainty in his voice.
“Wanna bet, asshole?” My finger slides down to the trigger, and I hold my breath. “Don’t take another step.”
“You ain’t gonna shoot me, baby girl. You ain’t ready for all that.” He takes another step forward, and I know what I need to do.
At this point, it’s him or me—or us—and I squeeze the trigger once. Twice. He’s down on his knees, wearing an expression of shock and clutching his belly, but fear grips me, and I pull the trigger six or seven more times until the last squeeze clicks. The gun is empty.
I scream at the top of my lungs, a loud feral sound that hurts my throat, and then I toss the gun, watching in a strange mix of fascination and horror as his eyes go wide as if he can’t believe I did it. He slowly falls back, eyes staring at the ceiling.
A few gurgling noises sound inside the walk-in, then he goes completely still. Completely fucking still.
He’s dead.
Because of me.
Blood spreads inside the fridge and onto the floor of the kitchen. His lifeless eyes haunt me, but I’m unable to look away. I’m transfixed by him as Maven and then Letty dash from the fridge screaming.
Diesel and Stone rush into the kitchen, remnants of charred towels in their hands. I assume they beat out the flames and feel dizzy at the level of chaos that erupted so quickly.
The guys stare at the man full of holes, their faces hold matching expressions of shock. Stone’s gaze collides with mine first, and I recognize a mixture of worry and pride on his handsome face. “You all right?”
I nod, but I’m not all right. I can feel it, but that’s what you do in these situations, right? Grin and bear it. “Yeah.”