No Exit by Taylor Adams 2

ass against the coffee counter. The radio toppled, antennae
clattering. Her godawful black bowl cut covered her face, and
she caught herself on the counter, gasping: “You ruined
everything—”
Lars aimed his Beretta. “HEY.”
Ashley hadn’t noticed Ed until now — but yep, there he
was. The goateed ex-veterinarian he’d walloped in Go Fish,
who hated Apple products, whose biggest fear was facing his
estranged family in Aurora this Christmas, stood now by the
restrooms, a cross-shaped tire tool in his raised right hand,
ready to swing.
“I can’t let you,” Ed said. “I can’t let you near them.”
“Sandi,” Ashley said quietly, “please tell your cousin to
drop that thing.”
“It’s a lug wrench, dumbass.”
“Ed, just do what he says.”
But the man stood firm. His back to the restroom doors.
Perspiration beading on his forehead. The lug wrench
trembling in his hand.
Ashley didn’t break eye contact, taking a little sideways
step to give his brother a better shot. “Sandi,” he said calmly,
speaking through the corner of his mouth, “let me be clear. If
Cousin Ed here does not place the lug wrench on the floor
right now, he will die.”
“Eddie, please, please, just do what Ashley says.”
Ed palmed sweat from his eyes, looking back to Sandi
with dawning horror. He had to figure by now, but that had
seemed to clinch it: “Jesus Christ, how do you … how do you
know these people? What’s going on?”
Sandi winced. “Things got complicated—”
“What were you doing with that little girl, Sandi?”
“Drop it,” Ashley repeated, taking another step forward.
“Drop it now, and I won’t hurt you. I promise.”