Page 93 of Dining for Love

I’m stock still, watching the entire thing play out from my place right next to the counter. No one pays any attention to me as I inch closer. I can’t see my family, but Goldie’s whimpers haven’t stopped. Behind me, Tom and Jerry have miraculously chosen to keep their mouths shut. I half wonder if they think this is all some big joke. A new kind of pre-breakfast entertainment.

Scary guy growls and steps toward Reid.

Without hesitating, Reid shoots him.

The man drops his gun and howls. “You shot my foot!”

Reid smirks. “That’s how this works.”

Out of nowhere, Thompson appears behind Reid and whacks him with his club. Reid crumples as my family shouts in surprise.

Thompson turns to them andtsks. “Honestly, this could have been handled so muchbetter than this.”

“A little help here?” the scary guy whines from his spot on the floor.

“Shut up,” Thompson growls. “You’ve been a pain in my ass this whole time.”

Goldie shrieks as Thompson starts to pull his gun out, and I’ve had enough. I grab Granny’s skillet from its place of honor above the coffee pot and run through the swinging door, screaming like a banshee.

“You stop right there, you big meanie!”

Everything seems to dip into slow motion: Thompson turning toward me and clocking the way I’m raising the skillet into the air, scary dude scrambling to get out of my way, Reid lying motionless on the floor, Dad yelling for Thompson to drop the gun, and Thompson again, his eyes widening in a highly satisfying combination of fear and realization as I bring the skillet down on his head.

He drops like a lead balloon, the cast-iron skillet clanging onto his head a second time as it drops from my hands.

I know enough to look around for guns, to make sure none are close enough to Thompson or the scary guy to do any damage with. I don’t see any.

“Are you okay?” I ask.

Mom and Goldie nod, while Dad just stares at me. I think he might be in shock.

I kneel beside Reid and feel for a pulse. It’s there, and I exhale a sigh of relief.

“Willa?” Dad croaks. “Is that really you?”

Yeah. He’s definitely in shock. I smile gently as I rise and grab a chef’s knife, brandishing it in the most comforting way possible. “It’s me, Dad. Turn around so I can cut the zip ties.”

“Only you would use a giant knife when a pair of scissors would do the job just fine,” Goldie manages to joke.

I ignore her while I position the business side of the knife atDad’s wrists. “Hold still,” I mutter, then with one swipe of the knife, it’s done.

I turn to Goldie, who’s looking at me tearfully. “I’m so glad you rescued us,” she says, the sobs coming again.

“Shh,” I soothe, then gesture for her to swing around for me. I kneel behind her and cut the hard plastic.

Mom is next, and within seconds, all three are standing and hugging me, the chef’s knife safely away from anyone.

“Everything okay back there?” Jerry’s voice carries into the kitchen.

I roll my eyes. “Nowyou two pipe up?” I laugh.

Scary guy is still whimpering and bleeding at our feet, and there’s no telling how long Reid and Thompson will be out. “Call 911,” I instruct the duo. “We need an ambulance.”

Chapter 30

Reid

ICOME TO with a start, jerking upright and feeling for my pistol.