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I wait down the long hallway, at the end is where the fitting rooms are. The store is almost desolate except for the two people that work here. It’s during a school day. A lot of the tourists and other rich people aren’t going to be here until the weekend, so some of the town folks and extended stay tourists shop now, but that’s about it.
The fitting rooms are predominantly open but I pick one that’s the closest to the full-length mirror right outside my door.
I try on a tight black wrap dress with four-inch heels that I promised Eden I would put on first. My steps slow right before I look in the mirror. If you look horrible, are extremely funny or awkward, it takes years to get that image out of your head.
I breathe out and then inhale a smile. I really like this dress, it makes me feel empowered and beautiful. Being a boxing ring chick who always hangs around sweaty older men that spit blood everywhere is difficult.
It’s too late by the time I feel that something’s wrong.
I turn around, not hearing the person come up behind me. I’m hit severely hard in the back of the head, like a punch.
I groan, dropping to the floor instantly and cradling my head. I can hear my father’s voice in my head, “get up, Taylor. Never take a fight on the floor.”
It takes longer to try to get my bearings and jump back up to my feet. I hear chuckling, not used to the high heels as I slightly wobble. I have no choice but to fight, leaving the height changing suckers on.
Four men in dark combat military uniforms are standing there as I reach my full height, plus four inches. I know exactly why they’re here, the desperation rings in their eyes of an overwhelming, immediate payday.
The leader is off to the side of us at an angle, allowing me to grasp my wounded reflection. Hollowed eyes stare back at me, mimicking all the pain that I feel.
Out of the corner of my eye, I spot the Long girls approaching. Daggers are gripped tightly within their clutches, as hate spreads across the face of these beautiful immaculate species. They look like fuckingLara Croft, but with blonde hair.
The men start to close in, deciding to have fun with their prey instead of just ending me right now.
My eyes start to widen but I pretend to cough and keep it down as they start talking shit to me, not noticing what’s right behind them.
“The payday can wait, I say we have fun first, guys.” The meanest and ugliest looking of the bunch spits out. This one scares me the most.
“This is the easiest fucking job we’ve ever had,” says one of the other assholes, but I don’t pay attention, my head is down and focused, ready to fight, not deterred by their useless words.
“Lucas is going to fucking love this,” another one of the idiots sings out. Wanting praise from the big man himself.
“It’s funny,” one of the guys start struggling with amusement. “Our own boss is going to pay us for a hit that he created himself.”
Well I guess that answers all my questions that I was wondering about. Confirming it was the Santorins. Who else would it be?
I stand back up, getting my fighting stance ready as a big smile breaks across my face. Three smaller women are going to take on four fucking meatheads, this is awesome.
Ava yells out a freaking war cry that has me jumping, and all of the men spin around, wondering what’s happening.
I punch like my father showed me, hitting the guy closest to me in the back of the head but I don’t stop. I pummel hard hitting areas that will make it hard for them to move, kidneys, side of the head, even the back of the neck at the base of the skull.
Ava runs up, jumping into one guy’s arms, then using the momentum to fly them backwards into a half-somersault, as she makes repeated tiny cuts all across his body in the right places. Tearing muscles and tendons, having the guy scream out.
Ana starts fighting with another one as the guy I hit in the back of the head turns around, furious. He full on charges for me. At the last second before the full force of his body hits me, I knock him right in the throat, causing shock to spread through his eyes as he gasps out and knowing that I dislodged his trachea for at least the next several seconds. I start hammering him with all kinds of hits as he crumbles, taking us both to the solid, painful floor. His weight toppling on me, taking every ounce of precious breath I have in my body.
I look down the hall, noticing that my friends must’ve saw what was happening and got the attention of the guards.
I watch in absolute stunned silence as Ava and Ana jump kick and twirl. These two are like freaking acrobatics. They’re strong enough to take these men on, head to head. But they’re good enough to keep delivering blows that matter and exhausting their opponents.
They slice and dice as the last two men fall and the other guards catch up with us.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see one of the downed guys, Ava’s first victim, slither toward me. Maybe he figured if he is going down, he’s taking me with him. Would he still get paid?
I use my brand-new heel, that I decided to buy, and step right over his neck. The meaty part of his throat in between the front and the back of my heel. There’s not much room, so it is cutting off some of his air.
I watch in wonder as his eyes start to close. He gasps, trying to move me but there’s no way. I’m standing straight up and he’s weak, he can’t maneuver my body off his precious neck.
“Let him go, killer,” Ava states as she walks up next to me looking down at one of our victims.
