My heart hammers harder.
The presenter taps his clipboard. “Payment first,” he says cheerfully. “Then themerchandiseis yours.”
Merchandise.
I flinch like I’ve been struck.
The man reaches into his pocket.
The presenter’s smile widens, already tasting the money.
Then the man pulls out a gun.
For one frozen second, the room forgets how to breathe.
He lifts the barrel and fires into the ceiling.
The crack is brutal.
Plaster and dust rain down. Someone screams. Chairs scrape. Glass shatters.
The whole room jolts awake.
At the same time, four other men rise from different parts of the theater like they’ve been waiting for that exact signal. Guns appear in their hands with terrifying ease.
More shots crack overhead, and the lights flicker as something sparks above us.
The room erupts.
One of the men fires into the spotlight rig. Glass explodes. The stage drops into a strobe of broken light and shadow. Screams get louder. Bodies surge in every direction.
Another man steps into the aisle like a wall, weapon up, and the nearest security guard stops so fast it’s almost comic.
“Back,” he barks, voice hard enough to cut through the chaos.
The guard hesitates.
That hesitation is all it takes.
Luke jerks me backward on instinct, but the man from the booth is already moving.
He reaches us in two strides.
His hand closes around my wrist, firm and hot.
“Move.”
I stare at him, mind blank.
He yanks once, sharp.
My feet obey before my brain does.
Luke lunges, rage twisting his face. “You don’t touch her!”
The stranger pivots and slams a punch into Luke’s face.
Luke crashes into the wall, stunned.
