Jim heard the roar and the sounds of chaos behind him after the shot. Looking at the second football player, he spoke calmly.
"You got any more questions, shit for brains. Step back or you go the same way."
The man, faced with what he thought was a stark raving lunatic, stepped to one side. Jim carefully stepped over the body and then down the hall. He kept a watch over his shoulder. At the door, he pushed it open and stepped out into the parking lot. From his right, he heard an engine and looked to see an expensive European sports car accelerating toward him. Jim knew that the personal defense rounds in his pistol would probably not penetrate the safety glass of the windshield. Backing into the corridor, he held the door open and waited for the car to pass. He calmly put two rounds in the front tire and two in the back tire on the side closest to him.
The car veered toward the building on the side of the now flat tires, bouncing over the curb and sliding along the brick veneer. Jim could hear LaValliere cursing. It took the big man several seconds to pry open the bent door and work his way out through the narrow opening. Jim watched as the football player shook himself like a big dog. Blood was running down LaValliere's face, probably from an impact with the steering wheel. The big man growled and took two steps toward Jim. He most likely never recognized the double report from the Glock, nor felt the impact of the two rounds into the center of his chest. His eyes immediately lost focus, and he crumpled to the ground.
Jim heard Linda screaming in terror. She had exited the vehicle through the passenger door and stood in the parking lot screaming. Jim looked at her, then raised the pistol. Something in his mind clicked and he stopped. He lowered the pistol and heard his own voice.
"You cheating skank. I would put you in the ground, except for our kids. They will need a mother. I hope you are a better at that than you are as a wife."
He turned and walked back into the restaurant. In the distance, he heard the wail of sirens coming toward his location. Inside, the restaurant and club was in chaos. People were scrambling toward the exits. When they saw Jim walk in carrying the pistol, the screams intensified and people broke and moved away from him like there was some invisible force field preceding him. He walked back to the table where he started.
"LaValliere won't be breaking up any more marriages."
Dee looked terrified. Dave spoke from his chair, unwilling to make any more movements than necessary.
"What have you done? Is Linda ok?"
"I put an end to LaValliere's reign of terror. Linda is fine, but she may have soiled herself."
"What happens now?"
"I suspect in just a few seconds, a whole host of police are going to show up. If I were you, I wouldn't be anywhere in the vicinity."
The six other people took a few seconds to register Jim's words and then, as if all were working in unison, they stood, grabbed their things, and headed toward the far end of the room and an exit. Jim watched them go. He heard the commotion at the front door and turned to see a half dozen policemen, all pointing weapons at him and yelling. He thought it asinine that they were all yelling, making it almost impossible to understand what they were saying. Smiling, he raised the pistol. Before he got it above his waist, the first of 27 bullets impacted his body. His last thought was he hoped he met LaVallierre in hell so he could continue to kick his ass.
