Page 133 of Working for the Mob

I talked directly to her.

“It’s going to be alright, Genny. You’re going to get out of this.”

“YOU DON’T TELL ME WHAT’S GOING TO HAPPEN!” His shouts echoed off the factory behind us, and his eyes bulged from his head. “Itellyouwhat to do. You listento me!”

Cold sweat ran down my back. The man was past the point of logic.

“Just drop the knife. We can talk this out.”

I kept my arm steady but pleaded with my eyes. I couldn’t lose Genevieve. Not for the second time today.

“No!” His eyes hardened. “No. You’re all the same. You would just put a bullet in my head and leave me here. JUST LIKE VALUNCIA!”

“That’s not true!” I could no longer keep my voice calm. “Now drop the knife!”

“That’s the last time anyone tells me what to do!”

His knife wrist moved a centimeter and a lead weight dropped in my chest.

“NO!”

A gunshot rang out in the night. But I hadn’t pulled the trigger. My finger hadn’t moved. A red line of blood dripped down the drifter’s forehead. He slumped and fell to the ground.

Genevieve squeaked, her eyes still wet, and her hands shaking. I realized I could move now. I ran forward and suddenly she was in my arms, sobbing into my chest.

I was so small. So helpless. I almost let her be killed right there. This was my fault.

“I’m never letting you out of my sight again. I love you, Genevieve,” I said. In response, she continued to cry into my chest.

“Sorry, that took so long. Had to get into position,” Mrs. Jenkins said, and stepped into our circle.

Relief washed over me. At least I still had control over my trigger finger.

“Thank you,” I said, solemnly. “I don’t know if I could ever thank you enough.”

She stooped over the body, inspecting her shot, with her rifle laid on her shoulder.

“I think that free coffee for life will do, don’t you?” she asked, and stood up.

Genevieve pulled away and embraced Mrs. Jenkins. I felt like a piece of me was missing now that she wasn’t in my arms.

“You can have all the coffee and scones you want, Mrs. Jenkins,” Genevieve said.

“And I’m making cream puffs soon!” Lucy said, and joined in on their hug. Her voice sounded close to tears.

I exchanged a look with Henry, who shrugged.

“I’d settle for ham and prosciutto sandwiches, but I sell you the meat in the first place, so that's not a fair deal,” Miss Dunham said.

“Miss Dunham!” Genevieve said. “You’re here too?

“I couldn’t let Mrs. Jenkins have all the fun,” she said.

Genevieve and Lucy pulled in Miss Dunham, and all four girls cried together at once.

“I need to get Lance to the hospital. I’ll take Genevieve with me. Henry, can you fit everyone else in your car?” I asked.

“Yes, sir.”

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