“Oh boy,” she said.
“Stay.” John pointed to a chair.
Everything in her said to run. But she realized John was right. She was safer with him. There were probably more guys outside the hotel’s property, positioned all around the mall.
Though it was tough, she sat down.
What happened next was like an action movie playing out right before her eyes. The three men spread out, clearly trying to intimidate John. It didn’t appear to be working.
“Who’s first?” he asked.
“We just want the girl.”
“What a coincidence,” John said. “So do I. But not in the way I’m sure you do.”
The men never took their eyes off him. Everyone seemed tense and ready to strike. Coiled energy just waiting to be released.
“The cops have been called,” John tried.
They seemed as unintimidated by that as John seemed of them.
Then one of them moved carefully, just enough to pull back the front of the sports coat he wore to reveal a gun tucked into the waistband of his slacks.
“Oh man. Why’d you have to go and do that? You see,” John said, “I’m just a lowly firefighter. I don’t have experience with big scary guns and stuff. I’m used to ladders and poles and hoses.” He gasped. “Hey, speaking of poles… there’s one now!”
Trixie had been so intent on watching John that she hadn’t even realized Jack had crept up behind the three men until he used the metal pole of a pool net to whack one of the guys upside the head.
The other two lost focus on John, turning to see what was going on, and received kicks and punches from John and Jack.
Pained grunts reached Trixie’s ears. It was hard to see what was going on in great detail as bodies shuffled and thudded against each other. She could make out enough to know that in the three-against-two fight, the two were coming out ahead.
John punched one guy in the jaw, then launched a spinning kick that connected to his chest, sending him into the pool with a loud splash. He wasn’t unconscious and started swimming, so Trixie didn’t bother helping him out. Neither did Jack or John. He wasn’t going to drown.
“Holy shit!” the old man on his phone said. “Loretta, you should see this. It’s like a Grant Baker action movie!”
“Well, stop talking to me and record it, Harold!” a woman’s voice came back.
By the time the guy had his phone extended as if to record, the fight was over.
John and Jack had prevailed.
“Daddy! My hero!” Trixie squealed as she sprang from the chair and jumped into John’s arms.
The victory celebration was short-lived. The two guys she’d seen when coming out of her room burst through the glass doors, looking frantic.
And stained.
John put Trixie’s feet back on the ground.
Next to them, Jack cracked his knuckles, stretched his neck in both directions, and said, “Gross. What happened to you idiots?”
“Shut up!” the one Trixie had kicked growled.
John stepped closer, clearly ready to fight. He reared his head back. “Goodness! No, seriously, what happened? You boys stink.”
The second one looked embarrassed. “She kicked him and he threw up! I… tripped in it.”
Trixie jumped up and down. “It really happened? That’s awesome!”
