My Captivating Romance (with a serial killer)

o n e

September 24th, 7:56 am

I stood quietly in line, patiently waiting my turn. I did this every morning. Get up late, rush to get ready, struggle to finish my work, and still stop at Starbucks, thus making me even more late than I already was. Monday morning, my fifth week of school. I was going to need a gallon of espresso to get through the week, I could already tell. 

“Could I get a venti mocha? Extra whip.” 

“Sure, anything else?” The smiling electric blue-haired barista asked. 

“Oh, no. I think that’s it, thank you.” I said, returning the smile. 

“Alright. That’ll be $4.95.” 

I paid with my card before taking a few steps to the other side of the counter to wait for my order. I had forgotten my phone in the car so I stood and stared at the muffin and donut display, fantasizing about the hot coffee I would be enjoying in just a few minutes. I reached for my drink as the barista set it on the counter. 

A shot rang out and a large window shattered a few feet from me. I screamed and tried to duck down when an arm was wrapped around my throat. I struggled against it but I was no match for their strength. I could see two cops pointing their guns at me from just outside the coffee shop. 

“Let the girl go, Way. She’s got nothing to do with this!” The older cop yelled, holding his aim steady. 

“No way, pig. You’re not getting me that easy.” The man restraining me said. 

I felt the cold metal barrel press against my head. 

“Please, please let me go, please.” I whimpered. 

I just wanted coffee. I knew I should have used the drive-thru. Now I was reliving the last twenty years of my life in a montage. I never went to Paris. I never got married. I never had a baby. I did nothing and now I was going to die. 

“Pipe down, sugar. You’ll be fine.” The man brushed his lips against my ear, making me inadvertently shiver. 

“Drop her or we’ll shoot.” Said the younger cop. I assumed he was a rookie by the way his hands and voice shook. 

It’s strange what you notice when you’re in panic mode. Everything slows down around you. My mocha was dripping down the front of the counter, there was a red car with a ding on the passenger side mirror parked directly behind the cops, and the presumed rookie had missed a spot while shaving this morning. Time was going so slow it felt like this had been going on for hours. 

“You’ll shoot me while I’ve got a little girl in my arms? You’re willing to kill this kid? Wow, you guys are sick.” He chuckled. Great, he thinks I’m a child. He wouldn’t kill an innocent kid, right? “Now, I’ll tell you what’s gonna happen. I’m gonna take my new pal here, and leave.”

“We can’t let that happen, Way. You know that.” The older cop said, his voice firm and controlled.  

“You can and you will or I’ll splatter this kid’s brains all over the goddamn donut case!” He screamed, pressing the gun harder against my temple. I whimpered weakly.

“Alright! Alright. Lower your weapon, McMullen.” He said to the rookie. They both slowly brought their weapons down to hip level. 

“I appreciate the cooperation, boys.” 

“Can I please go now? Please?” I begged. 

“No, sugar. You’re gonna come with me for a while. At least until I can get out of here safely.” He whispered. “Now, boys, my lady friend and I will be on our way. Got it? No funny business or I’ll kill her.”