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Sighing, I take another bite. That’s when Brandon lifts his head and glares at the entrance.
“What?” I ask.
“Shit.”
He immediately gets up and pulls me up by my arm, dragging me out of the booth and away from my pie. “Hey, I wasn’t done yet!”
“Too late,” he says, pulling me to the bathroom.
“What are you doing?” I scoff, jerking free.
When I turn around, I come face to face with the man in the doorway. Matteo.
“Fuck,” I murmur.
He’s actually wearing a fucking splint, but he’s walking all right. We’re lucky he hasn’t seen us … yet. But Brandon sure did because he’s already gone.
How the fuck are we gonna get out of here without starting a gunfight?
I immediately turn around again and tail Brandon, who rushes into the bathroom behind a man in a suit. The door shuts behind me, and Brandon pulls his gun from his pocket and shoves it into the man’s chest.
The man looks bewildered. “Wha—”
“Shh …” Brandon interrupts. “Just do what I ask, and no one needs to get hurt.”
The man nods, shaking in distress. “Please don’t shoot me. I’ll do anything, but please don’t shoot.”
“Give me your coat. And your hat,” Brandon says, looking the guy up and down. The man takes everything off and hands it to Brandon. “On second thought, give me your shirt too.”
The man frowns. “But then I don’t have—”
Brandon shoves his gun farther into the man’s chest. “Just do it!”
The guy seems petrified. “Okay, okay.” He hastily takes off his shirt and tie and pushes it into Brandon’s hands. “Just take it. Please. Let me leave.”
“Not yet,” Brandon says. “I don’t want anyone alerting the staff.” He gazes my way, and says, “Keep him here.”
I block the door and cock my head at the guy. “Stay there.” I put my hands against my side to look threatening. I don’t have a weapon, but he doesn’t need to know that.
Brandon puts the man’s shirt and tie on and his coat too, effectively hiding himself behind someone else’s outfit. He even hides his hair under the man’s hat, which makes him near unrecognizable.
“Shoes too,” Brandon says.
“What?” the man mumbles.
“You heard me,” Brandon says, taking off his own shoes. “Same size. Switch with me.”
The guy does what he asks while sweating profusely. “Are we done yet?”
Brandon completely ignores him and throws me his hairband. “Here. Put this in.”
I do what he asks, tying it until there’s a small pigtail.
He snatches the man’s bag from his hand and opens it up, tearing it inside out until he finds what he’s looking for. He throws the sunglasses over to me. “Put these on.”
When we’re done, Brandon tucks his gun back into his pocket and tells the man, “Leave. Don’t make a sound or I’ll shoot. Understand?”
The man nods and immediately makes a run for it.
Brandon grabs my hand, and we follow.
Adrenaline rushes through my veins. Matteo’s right outside, strolling past the booths, checking each one of them. He’s looking for us, and we’re about to meet head on.
Fuck.
I hold my breath as Brandon marches toward the exit, trying to pretend we’re just a normal couple. I don’t even look that different, so I’m hoping Matteo won’t notice. Otherwise, we’re fucked.
When we get past him, I briefly close my eyes and breathe out a sigh of relief.
Then we pass our booth, and I quickly snag the piece of pie I had left. I take a sneaky bite to satiate my still hungry stomach.
“Hey!”
Matteo’s voice makes me stop halfway through my bite.
“Shit,” I whisper. “He’s seen us, hasn’t he?”
Brandon nods, refusing to turn his head to the man who’s clearly shouting at us. All the guests in the diner are looking at us now. Sweat drips down my back.
“You! Wait!” Matteo yells.
The sound of a gun clicking gets to me.
In a flash, I spin on my heels and chuck the pie straight at him, and it hits him in the face.
“Run!” I yell, and I grab Brandon’s arm and tug him along.
With a confused look on his face, he follows me outside. Matteo wipes the pie off his face and quickly follows suit.
“What the fuck was that?” Brandon asks as we run across the parking lot.
“A distraction,” I reply as he locates Matteo’s car and shoots two tires.
We run to the car, and Brandon shouts at me, “You call that a distraction?”
“At least no one got shot!”
We get inside and slam the doors shut. Right then, shots blast against the bumper, and we duck for cover.
When Brandon frowns at me, I shrug. “At least I bought us some time.”
Within seconds, he’s turned on the engine and revs the car, driving off without even looking where he’s going. I have to tug the wheel for us not to crash into a fucking pole. Bullets rain on the back of the car, and I turn my head, but Matteo stays behind and starts cursing the moment he spots his flat tires. Win.
