Eros: A Game Of Wits (A Mafia Novel)

40. Adrenaline Rush

"NOBODY FUCKING MOVE."

The screams were coming from every direction, shouting and yelling all around. Some being assertive, barking orders, others scared and panicked. "Hands, let me see your hands."

Florence, in the frenzy, somehow found herself in the arms of the cop, grabbing onto his shirt. The young man, himself, instinctually held around her protectively, both of them crouching low, cringing and hiding their heads from the flying bullets.

Florence felt herself pausing, deafened by the commotion going on around her. Her breathing, at first inaudible, soon turned heavy. Then the ringing started, resounding in her ear and drowning everything else.

The first masked man that entered pointed the muzzle of the short-pump shotgun in the air. A warning shot was fired, sending all but everyone on their knees.

She couldn't focus, it was painful, torturing...

Four more men entered, all covered head to toe in black, carrying semi-automatics and rifles pointing them threateningly, ready to kill whoever they saw fit.

She knew what was happening. Why now? She needed her senses, her focus... She didn't want to alert the cop of it yet, but she couldn't take it for long either. She'd rather face it herself. She could do it. She could stop the panic attack, she just had to collect herself.

She closed her eyes and tried to focus on her breathing. Deep breath. Deep... breath... The cop must have realized because she felt his hold tighten hearteningly.

The girl slowly opened her eyes a crack. A faint wave of dizziness came to her but she struggled to stay upright. Luckily, she was still in Lance's hold otherwise she would have been on the floor.

'The situation,' She mused. 'Assess the situation and focus on that.'

A lone guard was all that stood between the people and the scoundrels but was soon floored by the rest of the masked strangers who took his gun and beat him down with their own, leaving him lying there in a heap. Although battered and unconscious, the guard was pretty much alive.

"Get down!" the first criminal holding the shotgun pointed his monster at an elder standing near the entrance. The poor man was frozen in fear, unable to snap out of it. "Get the fuck down!" The culprit kicked the man's feet from under him, sending him to the ground.

Gasps!

The rest of his cohort followed his example going about making people lie down with promises of violence. Having seen an example not many were eager to test their truthfulness so they acquiesced almost immediately.

Two of the men headed towards the desks pulling employees from their seats, dragging them in the center with threats. Those who took more than a second to comply were kicked to submission.

By now the panic had subsided and Florence had come to her senses. The two them had yet to completely lie down. Until, the girl locked eyes with one of them, only to find herself staring at the barrel of a gun soon after. Her breath was caught in her throat; it was a terrifying experience she had never had, feeling like she would die with the slightest bit of pressure. For the first time, she felt she had no control over her life, that everything was up to the party holding that gun.

"Get down bitch!" Then the muzzle pointed beside her and she was able to breathe again. She knew it was pointed at Lance because she felt his hold on her arms stiffen. "You too, motherf*cker. Get down before I blow your brains out. Doooown!" Florence flinched at his screaming and turned to the cop, who was otherwise calm. Looking back at her, the cop nodded, complying with the order he was given, dragging the girl along with him.