Bear said under his breath. I turned my head toward him. My eyes followed the speckled countertop then lifted to meet his. He shook his head, straightened his back and lifted his hands over his head. I looked over my shoulder. Two men dressed in jeans and button up shirts stood ten feet back and aimed their handguns at us. “I said don’t move a damn muscle,” one said. “Eyes forward. Arms up.” I reluctantly placed my coffee, of which I still hadn’t had a sip, on the counter, and then I raised my hands. The lady behind the counter stood motionless, mouth open, arms held out to her side. Our eyes met. A tear rolled down her ebony cheek. I gave her a halfhearted smile. She looked away. Two men closed in from the side. They were dressed the same as their partners. They approached us slowly and cautiously, guns drawn. “Nice and easy,” one said as he approached me from behind. “One arm behind your back.” I lowered my arm. He grabbed it. “Now the other,” he said. I did as he said.
