Page 7

What the fuck is it doing in the flour?

Panic prickles through me like nettle stings and my shoulders roll as I shiver. Then, I turn my attention to the rest of the pallet.

Three bags of flour later and I have the parts for three Glocks laid out on my counter. Digging through every single bag feels like a waste of time at this point, but it's abundantly clear that this delivery is not meant for me.

"Satisfied?" The older man appears next to me while the younger man pushes the next pallet into my kitchen. "We delivered as ordered. Pay us and we'll be on our way."

"What?" As my mind races trying to piece all of this together, the demand for payment catches me off guard.

"Payment," the man says, slower this time. "Are you thick?"

"But I… I already paid," I murmur. "I pay when I place the order."

"What?" Confusion knits across the man's weathered face and he glances back at his companion. "Not the flour, for fuck’s sake. Money for the guns. Where is it?"

Money for the guns.

Oh, no.

"Look, uhm…" Taking several steps back from the man, my flour-stained hands clasp together as I glance between the two strangers. "There's been some kind of mistake."

"Mistake?" The older man grunts as he speaks. "There's no mistake and no fucking way you're cheating us out of this. What, are you tryna shake us down? Your boss thinks he can get away with not fucking paying?"

"I have—" The words catch in my throat as the air seems to thicken and the bored delivery men turn into something much more sinister. "I h-have no idea what you are talking about, I'm sorry! You have to be in the wrong place because this–this has nothing to do with me!"

Try as I might, I can't keep the tremble out of my voice and a soft, alarmed squeak involuntarily escapes me when the older man surges forward and slams his hand down on the metal counter behind me.

"Don't cheat me, cunt!" he snarls. "You owe us, so tell us where the fucking money is!"

"I don't know," I gasp while tears sting behind my eyes. "Please, I don't know. I-I can call my boss—please!"

He grabs the front of my shirt and hauls me into his space, then he surges forward and slams me down onto the counter so hard that stars burst before my eyes and pain lances through my back. Awkwardly bent backward, my feet struggle for purchase on the tiled floor as I grab his forearm.

"Please!" I gasp as tears well in my eyes, leaking down my cheeks, and panic overcomes me and turns every muscle into a quivering mess. "Please, I don't know anything about this! I swear! I don't know what this is or who you are or why there are guns in my flour! You have the wrong person!"

"Bullshit!" the older man yells in my face, choking me on the stink of stale smoke and day-old food.

"Actually," comes the voice of the younger one, "I think she's right."

"What?" The older man leans up and gazes over his shoulder. "The fuck you say?"

"We're supposed to be one block over."

Through my tears, I watch the younger man flash something toward the older man, which results in him yelling angrily and slamming his fist down onto the counter next to my head.

"For fuck’s sake," he snarls. "Come the fuck on!"

I cower to the side, my heart hammering as tears roll down my cheeks. "I won't tell anyone!" I gasp out shakily. "A-An honest mistake, please! I won't tell anyone."

"Sure you won't," the man growls, and he shoves me so hard against the counter that pain stabs through my lower back. Then he steps away, and without this body holding me in place, I collapse to the floor.

I'm barely able to breathe around the panic trembling through me, and my heart's ready to punch its way out of my chest as the man growls at his friend.

"Pack it up," he snarls. "I'll get her in the fucking van."

Wait… what?

"No, no, no, please, don't! Don't! I'm sorry! I won't tell anyone! I'll wipe the cameras, no one will know you were here! Please, please don't! Please! No, no, no!"