I straighten, sweating, my throat on fire.
“What are you doing here?” Ella asks, almost unfazed by the gun. Actually,veryunfazed by the gun. She’s like Batman.
“I saw you running,” I say. “Fuck, I have a stitch.”
Ella rolls her eyes. “You came to save me, and you have a stitch? Wow.”
“Fuck you, Gibson,” I say. “Cardio is not my thing!”
“Neither is being a hero, apparently.”
I gape at her. “I saved you not twelve hours ago!”
“And your second time around sucks!”
Oh, I’m about ten seconds away from letting her get shot. What a tragedy—a life without Ella fucking Gibson.
“Stop arguing!” the mugger shouts, moving the gun between Ella and me. The guy is in his early twenties, if that, sweating profusely, still clutching Ella’s phone in his hand.
“Listen, asshat!” Ella says. “That phone has my life on it! Give it back or I swear I’ll kick your ass into next week.”
I’m still panting. “You’re arguing with the guy with the gun?”
I can easily disarm this douche. He looks like he’s not even sure how to use the gun effectively. He also keeps wiping the back of his hand over his face because sweat is dripping into his eyes.
“I’m not scared of him,” Ella says, gesturing in the mugger’s direction. “He can’t even use that thing.”
I put my hands on my hips. “How do you know?”
“Because the safety is on,” she says matter-of-factly.
I blink, lean to the side, and eye the gun. She’s right. I dart forward, seizing the gun and pointing the uselessbarrel at the ground. I snatch the weapon and throw my fist into the mugger’s nose. He hits the ground, hands covering his face, whimpering.
Ella picks up her phone and points at the mugger. “Crime doesn’t pay!”
I scoff. “That is the worst line ever.”
“I’m on the spot!” she cries. “What would you say?”
“Nothing; I knocked the guy on the ground with one punch. I don’t need to say something cool; Iexudecool.”
Ella dusts off her phone and inspects it. “Exude is a big word for a Neanderthal.”
“Does that mean your dad doesn’t know it?”
Ella punches my arm and heads out of the alleyway, looking left, then right.
“You’re seriously not even going to thank me?” I ask, following her out.
“For what? I could have done that.” She types something into her phone and heads right, toward A Flowers Day.
She’s immediately shaken off the incident, seemingly unaffected, and I’m almost impressed. Most people would have accepted that their phone was gone, and that’s how life goes sometimes. Not only did Ella pursue the guy, but she remained completely calm, and even now, while her adrenaline is probably ebbing away, she’s fine.
“Why are you following me?” she asks, stopping and rubbing her throat. She still sounds a little scratchy.
“I dunno. I’m bored. Where are you going?”
“The gynecologist.”
