Red flashed across her vision. She reached out and grabbed Tuma’s gun in the front of his pants. She pressed the weapon to his face. The two guards left Chris’s side and stepped forward.
“Back off! Or the back of his head gets a hole,” Nicholle said.
The guards did as they were told. Tuma began to chuckle.
“Now you’re going to kill me?” he said.
“I just want to talk.”
“We’ve been talking.”
“No, we’ve been bullshitting.” Nicholle forced him over to the chaise lounge and ran her hand along the wood to feel for the button. Top right, under the trim.
The latch to the door behind the chaise clicked open. A shaft of light scalened the floor. She pressed the weapon in Tuma’s throat in the direction of the door, pushing him backward. Once through, she closed and locked the door behind them
