Page 17 of Resist

She sized them up again, fairly certain they weren’t carrying guns. No bulges beneath their clothing and nowhere to stash them in their pants.

Ainsley pretended to play along, because her bat was under the register and fighting her way out of here was the only option she could stomach if they decided the few measly bucks she had weren’t enough.

Begging for mercy most likely wouldn’t change the outcome.

She crossed the bar and started to walk behind the counter, but Luigi grabbed her again.

“No funny business,” he warned her, flashing a switchblade.

Okay, cool. So no gun. Not that a knife was much better. Luigi slipped the knife back in his pocket. Clearly, he and Mario were confident in their abilities to knock her around without weapons until she gave them what they wanted.

Ainsley shook her arm loose again. “Go to hell,” she muttered, as she stepped in front of the register. With one hand, she opened the drawer, while the other drifted lower.

She’d just managed to wrap her hand around her bat when Luigi stepped next to her, looking into the register.

“That’s it?” he asked, grabbing the handful of twenties she had and stuffing them in his pocket. “Fuck, man. That’s not even two hundred bucks. Where’s the rest?”

She smirked. “Look around, asshole.” She gestured to the empty tavern once more, distracting him while she got a better grip on her bat. She was trying to figure out her game plan because, unfortunately, the space behind the bar was too tight. She wouldn’t have enough room to rear back and swing properly.

“Guess you’re gonna have to pay up another way,” Mario said, licking his lips.

Yep. That was what she thought.

It was now or never. All she had going for her was the element of surprise, but given she didn’t have enough money to pay Eli’s debt, it wasn’t like she had any other options.

She quickly took a couple of steps back as she raised the bat. Without time to aim, she swung too low, catching Luigi on the meaty part of his upper arm. Nowhere near hard enough to hurt him but plenty hard enough to piss him off.

He reached out and wrapped his hand around the thick end of her bat, planning to wrestle it away from her. Ainsley had zero intention of letting go, so she tugged back as she kicked upward, managing to nail the asshole right in the nuts.

Luigi dropped to his knees, cursing a blue streak. “Motherfucking cunt!” he said, gasping. “Gonna pay for that.”

While he tried to pull his balls out of his stomach, Ainsley twisted, swinging her bat once more as Mario tried to rush her from behind, circling around the bar and climbing over the counter to hem her in. This time, she aimed higher, cracking the bat against the side of the man’s head. He howled in pain.

She hadn’t hurt either of them enough, so time was not on her side. She tried to leap over the counter, and almost made it, but at the last minute, Mario grabbed her ankle, throwing her off-kilter. She hung over the bar, head pointed toward the floor. She was forced to drop the bat in her attempt to grab the edge of the counter as he tightened his grip, pulling her toward him. She couldn’t let him drag her back behind the bar because she’d be trapped—without her weapon.

Ainsley kicked wildly with her free leg, landing a couple times as Mario grunted in pain. Glancing over her shoulder, she aimed the next kick, clipping him in the jaw. His grip loosened, and unfortunately, without him holding her, gravity took over and she flew forward, crashing into a couple of stools before landing hard on floor on the opposite side of the counter.

Her right arm took the brunt of the fall, the pain enough that her vision went gray and bile rose in her throat. It took her a few seconds to recover enough to move again.

Those seconds were too many. She tried to rise but failed as Mario leapt over the bar, landing next to her. He reached down and grabbed a handful of her hair, pulling her to her knees, her scalp burning.

“You’re going to pay for that, you stupid bitch.” Mario released her hair, but only so he could back that threat up with a hard kick to her stomach.

Ainsley doubled over, coughing hard, certain she was going to throw up. Even as she fought to breathe, her eyes flew over the floor. If she could just find her bat…

After this, she was buying a gun. They’d never gotten one for the tavern because in his heyday, Mick had been a big, mean son of a bitch, who never needed more than his fists to keep the drunks in line. Ainsley hated guns, but she felt her stance on that changing with each passing moment.

Luigi rounded the bar, his hand still cupping his crotch, his expression pure fury as he lifted his arm and backhanded her, the side of her face scorching as if she’d pressed it to fire.

“We were just gonna take the money,” Mario lied, grabbing her hair once more, tugging her toward him and out of reach of her bat. “But now, we’re gonna collect interest.”

He grabbed a handful of her T-shirt, ripping it in his attempt to pull it over her head.

Ainsley hurt all over, but none of that pain stopped her from fighting with everything she had. She kicked and punched, gouged, and pinched, managing to get free, though she didn’t expect that to last long.

“Jesus Christ.” Luigi, who was still covering his balls lest she nail him again, yelled at Mario. “Fucking grab her already!”

Mario was just reaching for her when the tavern door open. “Get the fuck out!” he screamed, without looking at whoever had walked in. “Bar’s closed.”

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