Ugly Ronney: mafia romance [English]

Chapter 12-2

It was crowded in the hardware store for a Friday morning. I was shoved around a turn in one of the aisles and apologized as if it were my fault.

The aisles were large. There were so many choices in colors that I wasn't sure which one to choose. Open pots were displayed at the front of the rows with the words "do not touch" over them. This display was supposed to help us make a choice, but for me it was even worse. The color samples made me want to buy everything.

High-powered paint guns were on sale throughout the store. It was the new must-have accessory. A presenter was even demonstrating them at a booth, in the middle of an already convinced public.

I didn't know how long I had been wandering around the aisles. This outing gave me a chance to clear my head. I hadn't felt so light for a long time. Finally, I decided on two light gray pots, hoping they would be enough. My room was tiny. I felt like I could paint the whole apartment with them.

I was about to take a final walk down the aisles when a soft, feminine voice echoed under the store's high ceilings.

"Your attention please. Due to security concerns, the store has to close. Please proceed to the exits without delay, without passing through the checkout."

An uproar of protest went up in all the aisles, crying outrage. Disgruntled, I put my paint pots back down when the voice sounded again.

"Miss Jimenez is required to stay inside the store."

I paused and frowned, wondering for a moment if this was a joke, then suddenly remembered that many people in Sheryl Valley had the same name as me. I went on my way. The voice rang out again.

"Ronney Jimenez is required to stay in the store."

Shit! That was my name. There was no doubt anymore. A little boy walked by and asked his father, "Daddy, who is Ronney Jimenez?"

"Probably a woman who did something very, very bad. The police are going to arrest her."

A tingle ran down the back of my neck. I suddenly found it hard to breathe. There was no way that Ronney was me. It had to be someone else, or a mistake. I regained my composure, but before I could take another step, a male voice was heard through the speakers. The tone was different.

"Ronney with two 'ns'."

Fuck! I screamed in my heart. My blood rushed to my face. I was boiling with rage. He was here! I wanted to run, but Yeraz would catch me before I even got through the doors. Making a scene in the middle of the street wasn't my style.

The store had slowly emptied, giving way to silence. I felt like I was in one of those horror movies where the victim didn't make it out alive. I listened, but heard nothing. As the seconds passed, the dark clouds of terror invaded my mind. Then a low voice, light as a breath, came from behind me.

"I told you I would come for you."

I turned around slowly. My face went blank. His perfect features, with a vaguely arrogant expression, threw me off for a moment. Yeraz took off his dark glasses. He stood straight and raised his head defiantly while giving me one of his fake diplomatic smiles.

"Don't you have more important things to do than hunt me down like an animal and clear out an entire store just to talk to me?"

"Just? I asked you to do something last night: to be at work this morning. You're the one forcing me to kick people out. I'm glad to see you're walking around leisurely."

His voice was heavy with unspoken threats.

"Isaac is waiting for us outside."

"I'm not going anywhere with you!"

Stung, he replied curtly, "Actually, Ronney, I'm not leaving you any choice."

He walked towards me and grabbed my arm to force me to follow him. I managed to break free of his steel grip and grabbed a paint gun, which I emptied on him. The next thing I knew, his suit and face were covered in a hideous green. Yeraz stopped moving. With his arms spread wide, he lowered his head to assess the damage before raising his Grinch face at me. His eyes were popping out of their sockets. He couldn't contain his fury anymore.

Oh, no. Shit. Get the fuck out, Ronney. I gathered all my courage and started to run with all my might down the aisles, Yeraz chasing me. I knocked over the paint pots to slow him down. Suddenly, a thud forced me to turn around. He had slipped to the ground. I slowed down and held back my laughter. Unfortunately, the pause was short-lived. I had to start running again when he stood up with a scream of rage.

After several minutes of running madly through the aisles, out of breath, I glanced over my shoulder. Yeraz was gone. I stopped to catch my breath. Where had he gone? With my senses alert, I walked slowly. My heart was pounding in my chest.

Suddenly, a broom handle appeared from under the shelves and swept my legs, knocking me backward. Yeraz appeared a few seconds later above me, a pot of paint in his hand. I pushed up on my elbows to stand up, but he threw the contents of the container on me before I could get to my feet. I wiped my face with my hands and struggled to my feet. I was covered in yellow paint right down to my Converses.

"You're a jerk!" I ranted, out of my mind, stomping my feet.

Yeraz grabbed anotherpot and threw it at me, too. Without delay, I did the same. A hand-to-handfight ensued between us and we battled for a while. The containers fleweverywhere. The ground was a real paddling pool and we both fell to the groundseveral times.