Page 21 of Guarding Grace

“My boss’s guys. They must have followed you.”

Of course, in the world according to Elliot, this was my fault.

I raised up to peek. Two tattooed bruisers, one taller than the other, got out of a Suburban on the street, then closed the door. They were not the kind of guys you’d like to meet in a dark alley.

I ducked down as their heads turned in our direction.

“Shit, shit, shit…” Elliot’s voice grew shrill. “You let them follow you. Now I’m screwed.”

After another peek, I confirmed that they had started into the parking lot. “Stay down,” I urged him.

I couldn’t have waited for Terry this morning, but it sure would have been good to have him here now.

“We can’t stay here,” Elliot whimpered.

“And how are we going to get by both of them?” I glanced again.

The taller, bald one turned toward the door to the restaurant. The other went between two cars to check behind them.

I watched. “This is going to be our chance. The bald one is going inside. If we just wait until the other guy goes behind that van, we can make a run for it.” As soon as I looked back, I realized I’d spoken too late.

Elliot had already scurried away along the wall behind the cars.

“Got ya now,” yelled the bruiser still in the parking lot as he spotted Elliot and gave chase.

Looked like he had Elliot cornered. I darted around the SUV to race toward the street. He couldn’t go after both of us. “Hey, fatso,” I yelled.

It wasn’t my best insult, but it shifted his attention to me for a second.

“Yeah, you,” I added as I ran along the building.

It worked. With Short Stuff distracted for a second, Elliot sprinted past.

My legs burned as I gave it my all and poured on speed to make it to the street before Baldy joined us from inside. At least my running shoes gave me an edge.

Short Stuff decided to follow Elliot, but he wasn’t as fast as my cousin.

When I reached the sidewalk, I turned right. My distraction had given Elliot the seconds he needed, and we could now both outrun this goon in opposite directions.

“Oh, no you don’t, bitch,” sounded from behind me. Baldy had joined the chase.

Then, the awful pain started, and my muscles seized up as I fell to the ground and rolled.

Baldy trotted up, sneering. The Taser he held continued to click as he held down the trigger.

With every terrible electric jolt, pain shot through my body. I tried and failed to make my arms and legs respond. I tried to yell, but it was useless.

“Not so fast are ya now, bitch?” He yanked me up and heaved me over his shoulder. “Now you and me are gonna have some fun.”

I heard the bleep as he unlocked the Suburban they’d driven up in, but I still couldn’t get my body to obey. Slung over Baldy’s shoulder like a sack of potatoes, with my limbs shaking, I couldn’t move. I couldn’t kick or hit. This was true helplessness, and I hated it.

“Good. You got her.” Short Stuff wheezed as he jogged back to us.

“Where’s the kid?” Baldy asked.

“He got away.”

I looked over at the window of the restaurant. Everybody was facing the other way, enjoying their meals. So much for a Good Samaritan rescue.