“Drop it,” the first one commanded.
He must have felt really Rambo awesome, his feet spread wide apart, both hands holding a .45. His left eye squinted as he stood locked and loaded on a five-foot-five perpetrator of diminutive Spanish descent.
The second guard drew his weapon, the business end aimed at me, his other hand placed on the cuffs on his belt.
“He said drop it. Drop it!” He barked the words out, before something shifted in his eyes, as though an idea was coming in. “Ahora! Dejalo caer, ahora!” he said after a slight pause.
“Oh, fuck off,” I said. I didn't even speak Spanish.
I flung the award at the window, wanting it to go through the window, but of course all it did was bounce off the glass. God damn it why does nothing ever work, I screamed to myself, and ran for the door.
Security guard one grabbed me by the waist and wrestled me to the floor. He rolled me over on my stomach, straddling me, and pulled my arms behind my back.
My hair was tangled in my mouth, and I started spitting it out, as the cold manacle snapped around my wrist.
“You call the police?” I heard Maddox ask.
“Did you want us to?” the second guard replied.
What sort of stupid ass question was that? Somebody breaks into the boss man's office with a gun, and nobody dials 911? What a bunch of idiots.
The first guard pulled me to my feet, pinning my elbows behind me, and slapped on the other cuff on.
Maddox shook his head. “Nah,” he said. “Not yet.”
He stepped over to me, still holding my gun, and put the muzzle against my name tag, smoothing it back and forth, back and forth.
“Your name really isn't Maria, is it?” he asked, drawing the end of the gun to the flesh of my neckline. It was almost as cold as the handcuffs.
I wanted to spit on him. But my mouth had gone dry.
“You look so familiar, though. Have we met?” He undid the top button of my uniform, the gun pointed toward the ceiling as he did so.
Slowly, deliberately, he separated all my buttons. Then licked his tongue across his lips when he exposed my bra.
My chest was heaving. I couldn't catch my breath. And… this wasn't supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen. Maddox was supposed to be dead, my sister would be vindicated, and I should be in the back of a squad car.
I choked back a sob. Not for my situation, but for Rebecca. I failed her. I failed me. I swallowed the lump in my throat. I wouldn't close my eyes, though. I wasn't going to play the scared, helpless female. No way, no how.
The second guard smiled broadly as he watched Maddox watching me. The first one pulled my arms even closer together, pushing my chest forward so that my breasts pressed against my bra, threatening to burst free. As for Maddox… Maddox grinned.
“They're hard,” he said, and chuckled. His eyes looked hungrily at my nipples, poking out like rocks from beneath my brassiere. “You're not going to tell me where we know each other from, are you?”
I didn't say anything.
I didn't move.
I wasn't going to fight.
These kind of rapey shit heads liked a fight. Loved the struggle. No way in hell was I going to give them the satisfaction.
“That's okay,” Maddox said, and went to his desk.
He reached into the top drawer, and pulled out a pair of scissors. He snipped the air with them, then returned to me, and winked.
If it hadn’t dawned on me before, now I absolutely knew why they weren't calling the police.
Maddox opened the shears, and slid the blade very carefully, just beneath my bra and between my breasts. I couldn't breathe hard now, I just couldn't. If I did, I would probably end up cutting my own stupid self open on his scissors.
“Thing is, 'Maria', I do know you. I know I know you. I just can't place your face. But, here’s the thing, I’m not really the best at faces. You know what I never forget, though?” Maddox paused, as though waiting for me to answer. I pressed my lips tight together, rebellious in my silence. “I never forget a pair of tits,” he finally said, a shit-eating grin stretched across his afce.
Both security guards chortled. A couple of young hyenas watching the pack leader torture his prey.
The shears closed on the lacy little bow in the middle of my bra. One snip, and I'd be exposed to him, his goonies, and god knew what would happen next.
Maddox leered at me. “You fucked with the wrong guy,” he said.
He removed the scissors.
The two hyenas exchanged a glance – like kids getting coal in their holiday stockings. One of them opened his mouth to protest, but -
“Shut up, Robin. You're in no position to say shit.”
Maddox threw the scissors on the couch, and handed my gun to the first security guy. His badge said Peter, and Peter could not have been more disappointed if he'd woken up and found out his dick had shrunken to the size of a walnut. If it wasn't that size already.
“Take her in back,” Maddox said to the guard still holding me. This guard's palms had gone wet. Slick, and greasy. He readjusted his plump fingers around my arms.
“Then what?” he asked of his fearless leader.
Maddox looked at this guy as if he'd never laid eyes on anything more stupid. As though they'd been through this before, a million times.
“And if I find out that you've screwed with her at all, either of you? Well,” he chuckled and adjusted his lapels. “Since the two of you assholes are one click away from the unemployment line, anyway, let's just
