Total pages in book: 129
Estimated words: 119935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 119935 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 600(@200wpm)___ 480(@250wpm)___ 400(@300wpm)
“Fine.”
The guy spat on the table, got to his feet, and cast a threatening look in her and Martha’s direction before storming toward the restaurant front doors, his two friends behind him.
“Hold on! Someone needs to pay for this shit. What did they have to eat, Martha?”
“Three burger platters, one steak and baked potato dinner, extra fries, two cokes, and seven draft beers!”
When they stopped and turned around, Frank pointed at the table, ushering them to pony up the cash. One of the guys pulled out his wallet and tossed a bunch of bills onto the floor, then thundered out the front door. Frank patted her and Martha’s backs, shook his head, sighed, then reached down with a weary expression to pick up the money. He looked rather sorry about the whole thing as he counted the crumpled cash but offered no tips, nor further words before disappearing back to the kitchen.
Just another Saturday night at Gus’s.
A couple hours later, Kim was relieved that her shift was finally over. Tonight was more exciting than I ever wanted. She slipped out of her smock, folded it just so, and tossed it into a blue tote bag that doubled as her shopping basket when at the grocery store. Her feet throbbed something awful when she clocked out, said her goodbyes, and made her way to the exit. As soon as she opened the glass doors, a gust of icy air baptized her in the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit.
It felt downright otherworldly for a place to be so frigid. She made quick work trekking across the small parking lot towards her white Corolla. Her teeth chattered as the chill seeped through her very bones, a kind of cold even more treacherous than all of her winters growing up in New York. She fumbled about with her keys, unable to get a good grip due to her gloved hands, until finally she was able to press the button on the fob and unlock the door. Just as she reached for the handle, an all too familiar voice broke through the whipping wind.
“I told you to mind your own damn business. I can’t stand you people!”
Swiveling around in the direction of the voice, she struck a protective pose, arms up, fists raised. The man Frank had called Sonny stood a couple feet away from her, his stinking, beer-scented breath hitting her face.
“I am sick and tired of you. Go on before I call the police!”
“Shut up. Give me your fuckin’ money, and I’ll call us even. I know you’ve got some tips tonight. Give everything to me. They pay you too much as it is!” He stepped menacingly closer to her, one hand in his pocket and the other waving about as he spoke.
She slipped her hand into her purse to try and grab her pepper spray, but he was already reaching for her bag and yanking it. She cursed and struggled, jerking and pulling as the drunkard began hitting her about the head with a fist, shouting out obscenities. Then, he punched her so hard in the cheek, a horrible pain radiated on the side of her face and as she saw stars, he snatched the bag and fled the scene. She screamed out, her hoarse voice echoing in her ears as it rent the air. When she tried to race after him, she slipped on the ice and fell, almost hitting her head against the trunk of her car as she went down. Her muscles tensed, and pain seared through her left leg. Her heart hammered in her ears and her throat burned as she screamed for help with all she had in her, trying to get someone’s attention.
“Help me!”
Sonny wasn’t within eyesight, but she heard what sounded like an engine firing up.
No! He can’t get away!!!
“Help! He has my purse!!!” She managed to get the words out, even though it hurt like hell, and her face stung from the slightest movement. She struggled to get up countless times, only to fall back down on the ice.
Visibility was so bad, she could barely see in front of her, but her ears were working fine. Just as she was trying to figure out how to get up once again and go back into the restaurant to call the police, she heard a bloodcurdling scream. It was a masculine voice … a weak, cracked whimper.
There was a sudden flash of light, and then what seemed to be the restaurant door opening and closing, and shadows gathering, one after another. People drew closer, looking fuzzy around the edges due to the fast-falling snow. Grabbing the edge of her car, she tried to hoist herself up once again, then felt a sharp pain on her thigh, which had been bruised during the fall. A towering figure came to stand over her, blocking the darkness, the crowd, and the light. A halo of fur wrapped around a rugged face came into view…