It took a little finesse, but he managed to move, keeping her behind him as he positioned so she had a direct route to the exit door.
“Can I help you boys?” he prompted, his gaze shifting to the gun now aimed squarely at his head.
The guy’s grip was firm, steady, the gun aimed appropriately.
Not an amateur.
“We’re just here for the princess,” the shorter guy said mockingly.
Despite his short stature, the guy was built like a Mack truck, all beefed up. Unlike his friend, he looked a little twitchy, like this was the first time he’d taken a restaurant hostage at gunpoint.
“Don’t make this hard, doll,” the big guy told Madison directly. “We all know it ends the same way.”
“I hate to break it to you, but she’s got other plans tonight,” Reese said, taking stock of the situation even as he nudged Madison farther behind him.
Two guys, two guns. One possibly competent, the other not. The only positive was that they both appeared distracted. Probably figured they had complete control of the situation thanks to the weapons. Reese knew he had to get the element of surprise if he stood even half a chance.
“Not no more, she don’t,” the bigger guy said.
“Look, man, we don’t want any trouble,” Reese continued, tracking their reactions, the way their eyes shifted, their lips pursed, the sweat forming on the other one’s brow.
“If you sit down and shut the fuck up, there ain’t gonna be no trouble,” the big meathead said, swinging his gun in Madison’s direction.
“I can’t do that,” he said firmly, stepping to the side, putting himself between Madison and a bullet.
The big guy chuckled, glancing over at his buddy. “You hear this one? He can’t do that.”
Evidently that was amusing because the other guy laughed.
“Ah, there he is now,” Reese bluffed, nodding in the direction of the door.
“There’s wh—”
The second they turned their heads, Reese took advantage, nailing the big fucker in the face with his fist and sending him flat to the floor. Unfortunately, he didn’t knock him out entirely, nor did he knock the gun from his hand.
With his buddy laid out on the floor, the shorter one reacted, lunging in Reese’s direction, telling him he was more of a brawler than a shooter.
“Go, Madison!” Reese shouted, elbowing the short guy in the face just as the big guy got to his feet.
All the hand-to-hand he’d endured lately prepared him for the fight that ensued. Unfortunately, his attention was split between the guy’s fist and the gun he was still waving. He knew this wasn’t going to be a fair fight, but he heard Madison retreating, so he focused every ounce of his frustration on the dickheads, praying she followed instructions.
Reese got in a few good hits, but two on one wasn’t working in his favor. He took several punches to the face, a few more to the gut that had him folding over. A couple of knees to the head had him falling to the floor, then they were landing them one right after another, ganging up on him.
He had no recourse at this vantage point, so he blocked as many punches as he could, hoping like fuck Madison made it to safety.
“Hey! Cops!” someone shouted.
It was enough to have them backing off, allowing Reese to move back, get out of range of their rib-cracking kicks. He could feel the blood pouring from his nose, felt some dripping into his eye from a cut on his forehead.
His assailants were both out of breath, making Reese feel a little better. The big guy’s eye was already swelling from where Reese had gotten in a direct hit.
Reese knew without looking that there were no cops. Two walls were solid windows, and there wasn’t a single red or blue light flashing anywhere.
Luckily, the meatheads were either too stupid or too panicked to notice.
“Where’d the bitch go?” the bigger one bit out.
“I don’t fuckin’ know,” the shorter guy said, backing his way toward the door. “Let’s get outta here, man. I ain’t goin’ down for this shit.”
