As my eyes were glued to the floor, gazing intensely at my crown, the bodyguard removed his hands. My ears felt hot from how hard they had been pressing against my head, and I was grateful for their absence. His rough hands moved down the sides of my body, making me shift in discomfort. I was about to question what the hell he thought he was doing when he latched onto something at his hip, which coincidentally had to be right on top of mine. Jesus, that was awkward. I could feel the sweat from his hands seep through my dress. 

Another gunshot startled me out of my major self-pity issues. It was from Mr. Handsy, who had propped himself up by one elbow so he was hovering off off me, apparently just enough to shoot out the window. At moments like these, I should have been digging into Ben & Jerry's mud pie ice cream, with a lot of purple sprinkles loaded onto it. The sprinkles had to be purple.

Purple. Sprinkles. Or. Death.

"What are we going to do?" a different bodyguard shouted at the man on top of me.

"I don't fucking know! Why the hell should I know?" he yelled back, panic in his eyes. The vibrato from his loud voice flowed through his chest and into mine. Goosebumps went down my arms.

"Well Chase is dead! He left you in charge in case something happened!" From my view on the ground, I watched the other guy motioning towards the dead guard who I previously thought was named Robert, laying beside me. The one who wouldn't let me go outside. Yuck, an old grumpy guy named Chase. The name Chase should be for a really hot guy, like Chace Crawford from Gossip Girl. Damn that guy was fine. Except he spelled his name C-H-A-C-E, not like C-H-A-S-E. It probably didn't really matter at all though. 

Was it a crime to like my men to be hot? Yeah. That would indicate that I was an asshole.

The car swerved again, this time sending me and Mr. Handsy into the-thankfully- closed door. I hit the door with a low grunt, my lips awkwardly close to his neck.

Suddenly the tinted windows shattered, bits and pieces of glass falling onto us. Bullets continued to pound into the car rapidly, making deep indentations against the car door. If I wanted, I could poke my finger at every one of them and feel the bullet lodged in there. "

Shit, they have automatics!" Handsy yelled to be heard over the obnoxious sound.

"Well yeah, I'd use one too if I were trying to either kill or kidnap the princess!" I shouted back at him sarcastically from my place on the ground.

He just shook his head, his stubbly chin rubbing against the top of my head. "New plan," he screamed, either at me or at the other guards, "The driver must be injured by the way this damned car keeps swerving, so we'll go up there. One of us can shoot and then the other can drive. Princess here can take care of the driver if he has not let his injuries take the better of him." 

Its pretty clear who he was talking to now, the other guards. Wait a second, he said one of us can shoot and then the other can drive. That meant there were only two guards in this limo, only TWO GUARDS! Holy shit, we were screwed, with only three people who knew how to shoot. And all we had were handguns. Just perfect!

He then turned to me and said, "We all need to make an effort, okay? All of us need to get to the front of the limousine and do our separate jobs, you understand?" 

I just nodded my head, trying not to voice my worries. WHY DOES THIS HAPPEN TO ME?

"On the count of three!" Handsy said, his volume lowering after the gunshots ceased to continue. Luckily, he moved off of me, leaving me room to breathe.

"One!" the gunshots started again, and my hands started to get clammy.

"Two!" Oh god no, please please no. I don't want to be in this situation! Please let it be a dream. Please, please, please!

"Three!" And what do you know? Right as the lower ranked guard stood up, he immediately crumpled to the ground, writhing in pain. However, Mr. Handsy army crawled towards the front, throwing the driver's body to the floor. Ah, shit the driver was dead too! But then he groaned from his position on the floor, and I felt my heartbeat start to slow down.

Now, the real question was, who would I help first?