Page 101 of Coffee Shop Girl
Jim reached into his baggy pants and yanked something out with a bellow. A gun appeared in his trembling right hand, pointed straight at Ellie’s heart. “Not if you’re dead.”
“Jim,” I cried. “No!”
Devin yanked Ellie back, throwing her behind him. I shoved them both into the hallway just as the percussive sound of a gunshot at close range blasted through my ears. An explosion of shattering glass accompanied it. I looked up to find Ellie and Devin on the ground in the hallway, eyes wide.
“Run!” I yelled.
Ellie and Devin tripped over each other until Devin shoved off the ground, grabbed Ellie’s shirt, and hauled her to her feet. They disappeared out the back door and slammed it shut. I scrambled up as Jim advanced into the shop through the broken glass, gun trained on me.
“Don’t move!” he screamed.
I froze. My heart pounded in my throat. Slowly, I held up both hands.
“All right,” I whispered. “I won’t move.”
At my acquiescence, he stopped. He stood there, panting. His thin chest heaved up and down. A strangled sound escaped the back of his throat. A cry. Like a little sob. The gun wove back and forth in an erratic dance as he struggled to stay upright.
Finally, he leaned against a table.
“All right,” I said soothingly. My voice and hands shook, but everything else seemed oddly clear. My thoughts were calm. My mind focused. My vision crisp and bright. “Calm down. We’ll work this out, Jim.”
“She lied,” he whispered. Anguish filled his voice. “Kat lied to me. She used me. She gave me a daughter, and then someone else a daughter. Then she left. I loved her. I really loved her. She was the ... only thing I ever cared about.”
I stared at him, disarmed. A sniveling sound came from his throat as he lowered the gun.
His head bowed. “She’s right. I’m the reason Kat is dead. She left ... because of me. I ... my fault.”
“Jim ... Mama wasn’t perfect. You didn’t deserve what she did to you.”
“No.”
“She got in that car. She chose to drive away.”
A low, keening sound filled the air. A flash of black appeared just behind him, followed by a war cry. A thin cord wrapped around his neck, yanking him to the ground. The gun went off again. The floor splintered. Chunks of wood flew into the air.
Jim screamed, and blood sprayed from the top of his right shoe.
Ellie shouted as Jim fell back on her, struggling to pull her arm away from his neck. A string she’d kept in her emergency weapons stash tightened around his throat. Devin appeared through the front door, a thicker rope in his hands. I shot to my feet, kicking the gun away from Jim as Ellie pulled harder on his throat, feral determination in her gaze. He clawed at her hands with his freakish nails, drawing blood. But his alcohol-laced attempts were too weak to dislodge her.
Seconds later, Devin tried to hog-tie Jim’s hands. Police sirens sounded outside as Jim’s eyes rolled back in his head. His body slackened. Devin stared at him, hands shaking. Blood still poured out of Jim’s right shoe, pooling on the floor.
I crouched next to Ellie. She held on to him still. Her entire body was rigid, as if she couldn’t release him. Her teeth dug so far into her bottom lip that I could see her bleeding.
I put a hand on her shoulder. “Let him go, Ellie.”
Her frightened eyes, filled with grief and terror, found mine. “I can’t,” she whispered. “I’m too scared.”
“You can. It’s going to be okay now. He’s going to be in prison for a long time. He’ll never see you again.”
“Am I going to prison?”
“No.”
“Have I killed him?”
“Not yet.”
“Will Devin be in trouble?”
