It feels like four thousand years pass while Rob empties the register, opens the safe, and hands all the money over to the guy with the pistol aimed at him, but in reality, it probably happens in under two minutes. Sweat is pouring down my back and my heart rate is more jacked up than the last time I went to Zumba.
After Rob has all the money on the counter, the guy holding the gun to my head tells him to count it. “Five hundred and twenty-nine dollars, plus the change from the drawer,” he says.
The robbers start cursing.
“It’s bullshit that you’ve only got five hundred fuckin’ dollars on hand,” the guy at the register snarls. “What the fuck, man! Where’s all the money?”
“I went to the bank earlier,” Rob answers.
I wince when the man with the gun to my head angrily jabs it into me. “What about you? How much money do you have?”
“I…” Swallowing, I try again. “I only had two dollars with me. I spent it on hot chocolate and candy.”
“Stupid bitch,” he spits.
He abruptly shoves me away from him, and I lose my balance and fall into the end cap of snacks, my arms knocking bags of chips to the floor as I struggle to right myself. As I do, the door chimes. No longer falling, I turn and watch as the two men race from the store, climb into an old-looking minivan at the curb, and peel off.
“Ashley!”
I blink dazedly as Rob jumps over the counter and runs to me. “Are you okay?”
I look from him and back to the door again. I don’t know what I am right now. Still, I nod, because I’m alive and that’s the most important thing. “I think I’m okay.”
“Are you sure?”
After a few seconds, I nod again before I turn my attention back to him. “What about you? Are you okay?”
His jaw clenches as he nods. “I’m fine—it’s you I’m worried about. The police should be here any minute. I pressed the panic button on the side of the safe when I went to take the money out.”
I forgot his dad had a button installed on the side of the safe. It’s unobtrusive and unnoticeable so it can be pressed without detection. It’s been in place for the last six years, and in that time, it’s been used three times. Because the events that led to the button being pushed happened late at night, Rob’s dad changed the store hours so it closes at nine on weeknights and eleven on weekends. After he put those changes into place, there were no incidents.
Until now.
“Hey,” Rob says in a soothing tone, “you need something sweet to drink. I think you’re in shock.” He puts an arm around my shoulders and walks me to the stool behind the counter. “I’ll go grab you a Gatorade. Is red okay?”
“Um, sure.”
All I can think about right now is that two minutes ago there was a gun pointed at my head. I could’ve been seriously hurt or, well, worse. I could have been killed. I’m full body shaking when Rob comes back and hands me the bottle of Gatorade. He took the cap off for me, but I’m trembling so badly that it spills out onto my hand. It’s a light red, but it makes me think of blood. As everything around me starts to go gray, Rob takes the drink from me and orders me to put my head between my legs.
I don’t pass out, but it’s close.
_______________
KAREN SHOWED UP while we were giving our statements to the police, so she came up and sat with me for a bit. She only left after I assured her I was fine for the fiftieth time. I’m anything but, though. There’s no doubt in my mind that Karen knew that, but she also understood I need to be alone.
I feel like I’m trapped in a dream and I’m having trouble wrapping my mind around the fact that just a few hours ago I was as close to death as I’ve ever been. If things had gone differently, I wouldn’t be sitting on this sofa right now.
Realizing I’m working myself up—again—I push up off the couch and head for my bedroom. Along the way, I strip out of my shorts and T-shirt, dropping them on the floor without bothering to pick them up. After plugging my phone in, putting it on silent, and setting it down on the nightstand, I get into bed, pull the covers over my head, and close my eyes. As I do, I assure myself that a good night’s sleep will get me back on track.
_______________
I’D HOPED THAT maybe I’d pass out and sleep hard. Instead, I had one nightmare after another. The first few were about what happened in the store, but as the night wore on, it was other things too. The common theme in all the dreams centered on my being trapped. If that isn’t a loud, blaring siren about the state of my life, I don’t know what is.