Okay, men’s bathroom it is.
“It’s the money lady,” somebody yelled.
Dagnabbit.
Murray turned his gun toward the man who was yelling. Samantha would have thrown money at Murray so that people would have mauled him, but he had a gun and people might get hurt.
“Gun!” somebody yelled. “He’s got a gun!”
More people took up the call. She was practically slammed to the floor again as people started running toward the front of the wig store. This was not good. Not good at all. She tried to look for Murray, or Carl, or the little old guy, but all she saw were backs and elbows.
“Phil!” she yelled. “Greg!”
“Gotcha.”
She looked up at Murray and the gun he was holding and tried to wrench her arm out of his grasp.
“Gun,” she yelled.
He had her right wrist. It hurt. He glared into her face, the gun pointing at her.
“Gun, she yelled again as she grabbed into her bag, digging under the money. Her sweaty hand found the canister and she brought it up and sprayed.
“Bitch!” He yanked harder on her wrist then let go to rub his eyes.
She didn’t care about Phil and Greg anymore, she had to get out of here; her red dress was a beacon for bad guys. She pushed against the crowd until it spit her out in front of the hallway leading to the ladies’ room. She ran at full-speed and hit the bar of the door with all of her might, slamming the metal door against the brick wall of the building.
Greg and Phil were there.
“You have my money,” Greg said belligerently.
“We’ve got to get away. They’ve got guns. Let’s get to my car. Do either of you have a phone?”
“Give me my money,” Greg shouted.
“Hey, be cool.” Phil slurred. “She won’t steal from you, she’s a friend of my wife.”
Greg grabbed at her purse and Samantha pushed him away with her right hand. Pain radiated up her arm. Phil grabbed Greg in a headlock.
“Leave her alone, you asshole.”
She watched as they started to throw punches at one another.
“We have to go. They’ll come after us with guns,” she pleaded.
“Phil, you goddamn douche, what the fuck are you doing?” a deep voice yelled from the corner of the building.
Phil didn’t look up as he took another swing at Greg.
Samantha considered trying to stop the fight, but she was afraid she would get even more injured…but still.
“Don’t even think about it, Samantha.” She whirled around and found Ezio standing behind her. “We’re out of here. Let David worry about his worthless brother-in-law.”
She looked up again and realized the deep voice had been David.
“Why are you here? How are you here?” she asked as she watched David and Asher grab both Greg and Phil and shake them like puppies.
“Don’t ask questions. We saw everybody coming out the front; it’s mayhem. We need to get the hell out of here. Where’s your car?”
She pointed.
“You two take care of those fucking idiots, I’m taking Samantha. Asher, I’ll meet you back at your house.”
11
“Give me your keys,” Ezio demanded when they got to her car.
Samantha tried to fish them out of her purse with her left hand, but with all the cash, she was having trouble. Plus the throbbing of her right wrist was making it hard to concentrate.
“What’s wrong with your hand?” Ezio immediately asked.
“Nothing,” she lied.
Ezio carefully pulled her purse away from her body then put his hand in and found the keys at the bottom. He hit the key fob, then opened the passenger side door for her. Samantha was relieved that she didn’t have to drive; she was spent.
Magically, he was in the driver’s side a second after he’d closed her door. Probably not, but it seemed like it.
“Buckle up,” he told her.
Sam fumbled with her belt, but she couldn’t do it. Her wrist was killing her. Ezio leaned over and did up the belt for her. He smelled so good. It wasn’t like he was wearing cologne or anything, just the smell of Ezio. Then she realized she stank of cigarette and cigar smoke.
As he started the car, she rolled down her window—anything to freshen the smell.
“Roll that back up, you’re going to call too much attention to yourself. Your hair is whipping out the window.”
Too tired to argue, she rolled the window back up.
“How’d you find me?”
“Your phone.”
She nodded. She’d seen things like that done on TV, and Eden said the SEALs were crazy scary with what they could do.
“Why are you so angry?”
“Are you fucking kidding me?” He looked over at her as he waited at a stop light. “You could have gotten killed tonight.”
“You’re overreacting, I had things under control.” She kept her voice calm. It was the same voice she always used with her dad when he thought she’d pulled a crazy stunt. Seemed like Ezio was a worrier too.
“Samantha, you had nothing under control. There were men with guns, people running into the street, and when I found you, you were about to wade into a fight between two men.”
“But we got out of there and we were about to get into my car. Plus, I saved Toni and Phil’s money.”
“And your wrist? What about that?” He asked, his jaw clenched.
“That’s minor. I’ve had worse injuries on the volleyball court.”
“You’re telling me you had purple bruises in the shape of a man’s fingers on your body before?”
She flushed. “The light’s green.”
He moved the car forward, then took a left that would get them onto the freeway.
“Ezio, seriously I think you’re making too big of a deal out of this.”
“I suggest you don’t talk until we get to Asher’s.”
Samantha sighed.
Just
