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As the first person steps up to the table and starts putting stuff on the surface, my eyes dart around the room. The last time I saw Marcelo, he was over near the corner behind us. I can’t turn my head to see if he’s still there or what he’s doing. Everyone else I noticed in the room is in viewing range, except for Marcelo. Where the hell is he?
Mrs. Walker, a woman the same age as Mom, walks up to the table. Her hands shake as she lifts a purse the size of a shopping bag onto the table. Her eyes meet mine before she steps back and turns away.
“You’re going to die,” I wheeze out of my constricted lungs to the guy holding me. “And it won’t be painless.”
The gun at my temple digs deeper. “You think so?”
I grit my teeth at the amusement in his tone.
“I know so.”
I wonder if Ryker will put this guy’s heart in a box and present it to me as a gift, like he’s done all the rest. Or will he just hand it over with his hands still covered in blood?
“Well, since it’s my last day alive, I should get a last request, right?”
Levi, a guy that was a few grades higher than me in school, walks up to the table and pulls his wallet from his pocket, dropping it to land on the small pile of items. When he turns away, the man by the counter, who’s now holding a small paper bag with the money from the register, swings his gun around and points it at Levi’s head.
“The watch too, asshole.”
Levi fumbles with the watch before it’s dropped on the table alongside his wallet.
I grit my teeth. Seeing all of these people that I know reduced to frightened puppets on strings shoves my own fear aside to make way for anger. I think about Ryker and what he’ll do to both of these guys, and it doesn’t fill me with disgust or horror. It makes me want to watch. To hear the fear leaving their lips in their screams and pleading, knowing it’s the same feeling the people in this coffee shop are feeling right now. To see the pain in their eyes as Ryker strips off layers of their skin. I want to witness the blood drain from their bodies, their faces going pale and lax.
I jerk against the restricting hold, unable to stop myself.
“You wiggling around like that is making my dick hard, baby doll. Maybe that should be my last request.” His disgusting tongue comes out and licks my cheek, from my jaw up to mytemple. “I should bend you over right here and fuck you in front of all of these people. Since it’s my last day, I’d certainly die a happy man.”
The arm wrapped around my waist loosens, but it’s not a reprieve. A palm covers my breast, and he squeezes it so hard it feels like he’s trying to rip it off. I cry out at the pain.
“Get your filthy fucking hands off her, you asshole!”
I jerk my eyes to Emersyn at her yell. Tomas has his arm around her waist as she struggles, like she’s actually going to go after the guy behind me.
“Jesus fucking Christ. Shut the hell up,” Tomas hisses in her ear, his expression livid.
Before she has time to respond, she’s suddenly jerked from his hold by her hair. She’s spun around by the second man, and a split second later, the back of his hand meets her cheek. The hit is so hard and unexpected that Em cries out as she twists on her feet before falling to the floor. The table is in the way, so I can’t see her to know if she’s still conscious.
Tomas takes a step forward, hands balled at his side, a look of pure murderous rage contorting his features. The man lifts the gun and points it directly in Tomas’ face at the center of his forehead.
“You wanna die today?” the man asks. “Don’t play a fucking hero and you might live.”
Tomas’ jaw tightens, the muscles bunching so much I’m shocked he hasn’t broken a molar. When he doesn’t move, the guy keeps the gun on him, but his eyes move to his partner’s.
“Stop fucking around. The plan was to get the money and their shit and then bounce. We don’t have time to play your fucking games.”
With his hand still around my breast, he uses it to pull my body harder against him. Feeling the rigid length of his dick pressed to my ass has bile rising in my throat.
“We could take this one with us.” He grinds his hips against me. “I’d let you have a piece after I was done.”
“No,” the man replies. “We’ll grab something later for you to play with.”
Their casual talk about finding a woman to rape sends fire through my blood and from the look on Tomas’ face, he’s just as furious.
“Fine, but I want one who looks like this one.”
“Whatever. Just hold the bitch while I grab this shit and then we’re out of here.”
He snatches a plastic bag from behind the counter and starts stuffing the contents of the table inside it. My chest pumps with my heavy breathing, and it reminds me of the bruises I’ll probably have later on my ribs. Not to mention the hand that’s still latched around one of my breasts, which will most definitely have marks.