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sending it sliding across the floor as Tattoo Guy let out a screech of pain. She was on her way to grab the gun from the floor when the loud, explosive crack of a gunshot sounded in the air.
    Emily whirled around, a gun in each hand, and watchedas plaster rained down from the ceiling at the far end of the restaurant. There, standing by the door that led to the kitchen, was a gigantic man who had two hams for forearms and another for a neck. He was bald as a cue ball, with thick eyebrows and a goatee, and Emily was fairly certain even without asking that he owned a Harley Davidson. He was wearing a white apron smeared with food and holding a double-barreled shotgun, which he leveled in her direction.
    â€œGet your hooligan friends and get the hell out of my diner!”
    Emily blinked hard and opened her mouth to protest, when she followed the man’s eyes to her own hands and saw a gun in each one. It was time for the next horrible realization:
    4. He thought she was the bandit.
    Had she not been holding a pistol in each hand, Emily might have tried to explain. She might have protested, or smiled and assured the man with the shotgun that this was all a misunderstanding—a giant miscommunication. Instead she dropped both guns on the floor, turned to the door, and ran.

chapter 8
    Emily exited the diner only three steps ahead of Brandon. Tattoo Guy had reached down to scoop up both of the guns Emily had dropped, and behind him Ana and Trench Coat Lady tumbled out the door in a tangle of arms and legs. Ana was screaming and trying to pull the ski mask off of the woman who, Emily realized, had a fist full of Ana’s long black hair. Tattoo Guy was yelling through his ski mask and trying to pull Trench Coat Lady off Ana. Brandon was shouting at Ana to get in the freaking car, and Ana, who really might have gone insane at that moment, was still screaming about her broken iPhone.
    Then there was the other sound Emily heard that rose over the fracas happening in front of her. With her heart pounding faster than ever, she held up her hands and screamed, “Everybody shut the hell up!”
    Amazingly, even Ana and Trench Coat Lady stopped trying to claw each other, and they all turned and looked at Emily, breathing hard. Emily cocked her head and raised her eyebrows, watching as the recognition flooded each of their faces when the newfound silence allowed them to hear the growing wail of sirens.
    â€œShit,” Brandon and Tattoo Guy said at the same time, breaking the group’s silence.
    There was another moment’s pause, and then they were all racing through the parking lot.
    Emily reached the car and slid behind the steering wheel, then popped the locks and heard the doors open and close as she slammed her key into the ignition and started the car. As the doors slammed shut, she pressed her foot down on the gas pedal and pulled out of the parking lot at top speed. It was only then that she glanced in the rearview mirror and was shocked to see that it wasn’t Brandon looking back at her.
    â€œWhat the hell are they doing in my car?” Emily screamed, her eyes locked on the two bandits in her backseat. She was starting to pull over when Brandon yelled back.
    â€œKeep going!” he shouted. “Do not stop!”
    â€œI want these assholes out of my car,” Emily said. “Why did you even let them in here?”
    â€œUm . . . guns?”
    â€œWe are going straight to an Apple store so this bitch can buy me a new iPhone,” Ana said from the passenger seat. She turned and shouted into the back, “You hear me? You’re getting me a new phone!”
    â€œYou are gonna have to let that go,” Brandon said.
    Emily spun the car around and was back on the highway in a second, figuring that should make it much more difficult for anyone to follow them, now that they were lost among the other cars speeding down the road.
    â€œFast thinking back there,” Tattoo