"I-I don’t have a-anything…" Her voice wavers but her eyes stay firmly locked onto the 9mm Beretta. He scowls and starts patting her down with the gun held against the side of her head. Seemingly satisfied, his gaze roams over to me.

"You know the drill. In the bag." He orders. I lift my hands up and very slowly start to stand up but the flinching of his trigger finger causes me to halt. "What the hell do you think you’re doing?"

"Calm down. I’m just standing up so I can get my wallet. That is what you want, right?" I question. His eyes narrow and I try again, this time succeeding. "How much money do you expect to get out of a little heist like this?" I pull my wallet from my back pocket.

"Shut up."

"Won’t be much. Plus, you got all these witnesses." I point out defiantly.

"What did I just say?" He roars. "I’m the one with the fucking gun here!"

I nod my head, agreeing with him, and toss my wallet in the bag. A chair screeching on the floor causes him to look away, giving me the opportunity to grab the barrel of his gun and redirect it to the ground. He grunts when I shove my knee into his stomach and the sudden attack causes the gun to go off. Ignoring the ringing in my ears, I place my hand underneath it and over the hammer before twisting it out of his grasp and effectively breaking his trigger finger. His scream resonates throughout the diner.

I forcefully grab the back of his head and smash his face onto the table. He recoils back holding his nose before I smash him against the table once more. It makes a loud splattering sound as the hard surface compresses against blood and flesh. He falls to the floor with a thud after I let him go.

I set the gun down on the table, away from the puddle of blood before grabbing the grocery bag he managed to hang onto and retrieving my wallet. I pull out a fifty-dollar bill and hand it to Emily who looks a little pale. Her eyes fearfully meet mine and her hand trembles as she takes the money.