"What do you mean, I can't go outside?" I asked the man closest to me from the escort. I’d been in the limo for hours, and my lungs were begging for some fresh air.
"You are prohibited to leave the vehicle." the guy said gruffly, rearranging the shades on his face. Boy, would I have liked to rearrange his face.
"Nooo..." I said slowly, drawing the word out. "I am not supposed to leave without a guard." I began nervously twirling a curled lock of raven hair around my finger. It was an unflattering nervous habit as my publicist called it. I had to be careful not to do it around "significant figures".
The guard chose not to answer, and by the way he turned his head away from me, I could tell he wouldn't take me outside.
"C'mon, Robert, please?" I tried to guess his name to make a different approach. He merely shook his head at me. Maybe I didn't know my guards as well as I thought I did.
"Is Robert not your name?" I was extremely close to getting down on my knees to plead with him. At that point, I would have done anything, and I mean anything to get an iced coffee.
Still no answer.
"Look bro, I just need a caffeine fix. I'm sure you know what it's like. Hey, I'll get you a coffee and a c-"
The abrupt sound of a gunshot interrupted my attempt at changing Robert’s mind. I gasped as the glass shattered and the bullet proceeded to go through Robert's shaved head. His freshly dead body fell over, slumping into my lap. My heart clenched in my chest as his blood drained from the wound.
"Oh my fucking god!" I screamed, looking down at the scarlet red that coated my hands and thighs. The two other guards shouted at me to take cover, and when I didn’t do it immediately, one of the men wrapped his arm around my waist and threw us to the floor. He moved himself so that his huge, muscular body almost completely covered mine. The weight on my chest made it hard to breathe and my head began to spin.
As more gunshots fired off in the distance, the driver sped up the limo. Even though the big bodyguard, outweighing me by over 100 pounds, was pinning me, we both started to slide forwards in the limo because of the speedy getaway.
"Shit shit shit shit! Aw, god fucking damnit all!" the guy on top of me literally shouted in my ear, digging his nails into the floor of the car to keep us steady.
"I usually wait until after the first date before letting people shout while they are on top of me." I murmured to myself, and the all-hearing bodyguard released an annoyed tuft of air, telling me that it wasn't the time for my sarcasm. Oh well. My boyfriend, Gerry, was a psychology major, so he could've proved to that man that people deal with trauma differently. My way of coping just happened to be sarcasm. Sue me.
The limo slowed suddenly, jerking us forwards from the sudden use of the brakes. My "body"guard (literally, heh heh), cradled my face in his hands, covering my ears. Spittle splattered my face as he shouted at the other guards. My hearing was muffled from the placement of his hands, but I still saw what was going on
I lifted my head ever so slightly from the floor to look around. Only one other guard had remained unharmed, and my eyes immediately focused on the fallen. As much as I wanted to look away, I had trouble doing so. I looked from their fallen guns to their sunglasses, then to the other man ducking against the limo wall before he resumed shooting. I was staring, capturing everything into memory. Something tumbled down from the leather seat and rolled in front of me. The pretty emerald and amber gems sat on the silver wiring quite nicely. Elegant and pretty, strong and beautiful.
Yet I stared at it as if it was the most hideous thing in the world.
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