“Don’t fucking move,” one guy commands, the masks now making it hard to identify them. “Where the fuck is Reggie?” he snarls.
“He was fired,” Taylor whispers. “He was stealing.”
The two men share a look and step forward, pressing the muzzle of a gun to Taylor’s head. Tears stream down her face, eyes closed, chin trembling, and I can tell she won’t last on her feet much longer.
“Last week. He left, and we don’t know where he went.” I try to divert their attention, which is stupid, but I can’t stand my friend in the line of fire. “Please, just take what we have and go.” My own tears streak down my face now. “Please.” Whispering my plea makes them glance around to see who else is here.
I don’t know what Reggie did for them to be here like this, nor do I care; I just want them gone and for no one to get hurt in the process. Unfortunately, from the stony looks in their eyes, I don’t think that’s going to happen.
“What the hell is going on out here?” Chet comes storming out. Big, burly, and angry as a bull in a China shop. He halts as both weapons are pointed at him, frying pan in hand, and I’m not sure who is scarier here. Chet huffs and puffs, his eyes narrowed, looking like he’s about to attack the two men.
“Put it down, big guy,” one masked man warns.
“Get out,” Chet snarls, hunching a little bit.
Grabbing Taylor’s arm, I slowly tug her back, knowing this won’t end well. Through the service window, I see Martha rummaging through her huge purse, likely for a phone, when she knocks over a cooking utensil. The sound ricochets like a bullet, causing us all to freeze again.
“Everyone, come out here now!” the other man screams, firing a wild shot into the dining area.
Someone cries out, and my head swivels to find Leslie on the ground, eyes wide open, blood pouring from a wound in her forehead.
“Oh my god,” Taylor gasps, covering her mouth quickly to avoid the robbers’ unwanted attention. Tanner’s immobilized next to Leslie’s body, appearing ready to pass out, but he doesn’t move. The two tables of customers crouch low in their booths, trying to hide. Hopefully, one of them called for help, but I don’t hear sirens, so there’s no way to know.
“You killed her,” Chet growls and charges both men, hand swinging wildly with the pan. The men back up but start shooting. Taylor and I turn to run when her weight slams me from behind, and we crash to the ground.
“Taylor, get up, we have to run.” My words ring hollow as my head turns to see she’s dead too. Blood pools under us, and I’m stuck in place as chaos ensues. Everything turns red, and my chest refuses to expel air, so I stay where I am and pray they think I’m dead and leave.
Silence after the madness is deafening. It’s a challenge to relax my body and keep my eyes shut tight when I hear their footsteps moving around. Their menacing presence is felt with every tiny inhale I manage to take. The whimpering of customers as they rifle through everything, searching for something until finally arguing about leaving, is the only sound I can focus on.
I don’t know if they’ve gone; I’m too afraid to chance checking. My heart pounds, my ears continue to ring, and Taylor’s blood soaks me as I lie beneath her lifeless body.
Two of my best friends are dead. Chet is likely shot, same with Martha, and I don’t know about Tanner or the customers. The children have stopped crying, and I don’t hear their parents whispering.
I begin hyperventilating, and soon my limited vision blackens, and all I can hope is that someone finds us soon.
CHAPTER 6
Vito
Pulling into the Blue Heights’ parking lot, the drizzle of rain now gone, but with the sun shining, rainbows span the sky everywhere, making me think of Stella. I don’t know why; I just know this is something that would put a smile on her full lips, like she’d won the lottery. Sun showers have always been my favorite part of Florida weather, and after last night’s bloodbath, it’s a welcome sight.
Bishop sent me word this morning that no one is the wiser of what we did, including his family. How long they think they can keep them in the dark is beyond me, but it’s not my problem. As long as I stay clean, there’s no reason for me to worry.
Stella is my focus now. Today is the day I’ll finally convince her to give me her number and take her on a date. And get myself inside her sweet little body from every day forward.
Approaching the building, I stop cold when I see blood on the door handle. Drawing my Glock, I take a quick second to surveil the area and notice more blood splattered on one of the front windows. My gut drops because I know whatever I’m about to walk into will not be good. Whoever did it had better hope they run far and fast because I swear to fucking god, if Stella is hurt, I’ll slaughter them.
Taking a deep breath, I shove all emotion from my mind and yank the door open. Thankfully, the bell is still broken. Chet hasn’t fixed it yet after firing some asshole who stormed out and nearly took the door off its hinges, breaking the chime on his way out.
Entering the building, I find Chet in the opening to the kitchen, flat on his back, with blood pumping slowly from a belly wound. Martha is in the kitchen, pressing a hand to a shoulder wound.
Her eyes raise to meet mine, and she says, “They’re gone.” She doesn’t sound good. “I called for help, but the cops are fucking taking their sweet time.”
Crouching down, I feel for a pulse in Chet’s throat and freeze at a new sight. Behind the counter are two female bodies and more blood than anyone could survive losing.
“You know who did this?” I ask Martha as I move to the women.
“Some friends of Reggie’s.” The asshole who broke the bell. “One family ran out. Haven’t seen the other one that was here.” She coughs, and from the wheezing, I think she might have a collapsed lung. “Don’t know about my girls either.” The sorrow in her tone tells me more than I’d like. Martha believes they’re all dead.
