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I didn’t have a lot of time. In less than five minutes, another employee would arrive and relieve Check for the night. Check would take all of the cash and head straight to the bank.

I debated trying to rob Check on his way to the car but quickly decided against it. For one, I would’ve been out in the open, the streetlights illuminating everything clearly, and for two, there were always a dozen or so trucks and cars parked there. It would be too easy to be spotted.

I had to do it inside the shop. And now.

Before I could rethink my actions, I stormed towards the counter, watching Check lazily drop his magazine and amble to his feet. His eyes widened in his pudgy face as he set eyes upon the gun in my hand.

“What the—”

Keeping my voice low, a hushed murmur, I hissed, “Give me all your money and I won’t shoot you.” I made sure to lower my voice a few octaves, though I doubted it did anything to help disguise me. Maybe…maybe I wanted to get caught. Maybe I wanted my father to see the monster he’d created with his neglect.

He may have lost the love of his life, but I’d lost my mother. And now, I had no one.

“You don’t want to do this,” the man warned, not bothering to lower his voice. Behind me, I heard one of the girls release a strangled gasp and the husband curse.

Fuck it.

Lifting my gun in the air, I spun around and leveled it on each person individually before focusing back on Check.

“Give me your money, or I’ll shoot you all!” I bellowed, shrugging off my backpack and throwing it on the table. “Fill it!”

There were no bullets in the gun, but he didn’t have to know that. And I was more grateful than ever for the ruse when he hastily opened the register and began to shove wads of cash inside of it.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw the girls drop to their knees, hugging each other and crying. The man had been inching forward, but when my green gaze locked on his brown one, he paused, holding his hands up in the air to show he didn’t mean me any harm. I waited until he backed up a few paces before turning back to Check.

“Is that all of it?” I demanded, though to be honest, I didn’t really care. I had enough money at home to live comfortably. It wasn’t about the money. Not for me.

Trembling, Check thrust the bag into my outstretched hand, and I clumsily threw it over my shoulder, making sure to keep my gun fixed on him.

The bell to the store rang again, and I turned just in time to see a large, bulky man enter the store. He took one look at me and the gun, then my backpack, and I watched the color drain from his face.

“What the—?”

That distraction cost me.

I’d mistakenly lifted the gun from Check to fix it on the stranger, who I perceived as the bigger threat.

I was wrong.

“Wait!” the new man hollered, but he wasn’t talking to me. He was staring over my shoulder, in the direction of the counter. “She’s just a child—”

His words were overpowered by the shot of a gun.

Pain exploded in my side and stomach as I turned wide eyes onto the store owner. He hadn’t moved from where he stood behind the desk, only this time, he had a shotgun in his hands. His eyes were blurry with tears as he gaped at me.

I brought my hands to my stomach, red with blood.

“What…?” I murmured groggily. I felt myself fall, fall, fall, barely aware when my head careened off the bright white tiles. Stars danced in my vision as I stared up at the flickering lights above. I remembered thinking that they desperately needed to change their light bulbs.

The pain was fading, replaced by something much scarier.

Numbness.

“Daddy…” I whimpered. Someone pressed their hands to my stomach, attempting to staunch the flow of blood, and darkness pooled at the corners of my vision.

“Stay with me, child,” the stranger demanded, peering down at me.

“What the fuck did I just do?” Check asked, his voice sounding millions of miles away. “What did I do?”