Greg the manager was trembling, his face red with panic. Stand down, Anna. Let the police handle it.
Derek, still on the floor, muttered, She’s out of her damn mind. Even Lauren, sobbing, managed a jab. She’s nobody.
She’s going to ruin everything. Anna didn’t look at them. She ducked under the robber’s wild swing spun, and drove her foot into his stomach.
He crashed through a glass table, the shatter loud enough to make half the room flinch. As the glass settled, a woman in a gold dress, her earrings dangling like chandeliers, stood up slightly. Her voice dripping with disdain.
Who does she think she is? Some action movie star. She was shaking, but her words were sharp, meant to cut. She’s putting on a show, and we’re all paying for it.
Her husband, a heavyset man with a Rolex matching Richards, nodded. She’s reckless. A waitress shouldn’t be playing hero.
Anna’s hand paused on the table where she’d set her tray, her fingers brushing the edge, but she didn’t turn. The room’s hostility was palpable, a wave of resentment crashing over her. They didn’t see courage.
They saw a nobody stepping out of line. The third robber was different. He didn’t rush in blindly.
He pulled a knife, its blade catching the chandelier light, and moved toward her slow and deliberate. You’re dead, he growled, lunging low, aiming for her side. Anna sidestepped her movements fluid like she’d done this 1,000 times.
She caught his wrist, twisted it until the knife flipped into her hand and used his momentum to slam him to the ground. His head hit the floor with a dull thud. It was over in 15 seconds, three men down, groaning or unconscious.
The room stunned into silence. Anna stood over them, the knife in her grip, her breathing barely heavier than before. Her eyes were sharp, like they could cut through steel.
Right then a guest, an older man with a silver beard, his suit crumpled from crawling, pointed at Anna, his voice loud enough to carry. She’s dangerous. You saw how she moved.
His wife clutching a diamond bracelet nodded frantically. She’s not one of us. She’s gotta be some kind of plant maybe working with them.
The accusation hung in the air absurd but vicious, and a few heads turned murmurs spreading. Anna set the knife down carefully, her movements slow, deliberate as if to prove she wasn’t a threat. But her eyes flicked to the man just for a second, and he shrank back his bravado, faltering under her steady gaze.
The police arrived minutes later, their radios crackling their boots heavy on the floor. They cuffed the robbers dragging them out as they groaned. The guests started to stand their voices rising in nervous chatter, but the whispers about Anna didn’t stop.
A man in a pinstripe suit, his tie askew, leaned toward his date. Maybe she’s a criminal herself. Normal people don’t fight like that.
Greg the manager was wiping sweat from his brow, his eyes narrow as he approached Anna. What the hell was that? What have you been hiding from us? His voice was loud, accusing like she’d betrayed him by not being helpless. Candace fixing her hair added, she’s trouble.
I knew it the second I saw her. Anna didn’t respond. She just kept clearing glasses, her hands steady, her face blank.
One of the cops, a grizzled guy with a buzz cut and a scar on his cheek, stopped dead when he saw her. He lowered his radio, his eyes wide. My God.
Sergeant Anna Carter, I thought you retired. The room went still, every head turning. Anna nodded just once, her voice soft but clear.
I just wanted a normal life. The officer shook his head, a faint smile breaking through. Navy Special Forces, counter-terrorism.
You trained with my unit back in 18. Save my ass in Kabul. The guest’s face has changed.
Richard’s mouth tightened. Candace’s eyes widened. Derek stared at the floor.
Lauren’s laugh was gone, replaced by a nervous fidgeting with her earrings. Anna didn’t say another word. She didn’t need to…
Обсуждение закрыто.