*Zac*
I dodge left, a bullet whizzing past where my head was just a moment ago. My heart's pounding, but there's no time to slow down. With a practiced move, my fist connects with the assailant's jaw, sending him crumpling to the ground, out cold.
However, I don't get a second to celebrate; the silent partner's suddenly a live wire, jerking Charlotte into a chokehold, the cold muzzle of his gun pressed against her temple. "Nobody moves," he hisses, his eyes wild and desperate.
I can't help but quip, "That's a terrible slogan, especially for a strip club." My voice is equal parts mockery and distraction. My eyes flick to the corner of the room, locking on the metallic sheen of a curling iron. It's plugged in, I note, a wisp of smoke curling from its heated surface.
Charlotte's gaze fol
