Coffee & Criminals

7. A Very Wet Revenge

Brice was the first to break the stunned silence that followed. "Ooooh! Oh my God!" He squealed. His face displayed a mixture of shock and amusement, but mostly shock. I suppose not very many people had the courage to throw hot coffee into Wolfe Sterling's face. And yet, to make matters worse, Brice continued. "Florence! What've you done? Oh my God. Holy shit. Holy fuck. Holy mother of God. Hold on, I have to take a picture of this- oh, man! Jasper's gonna love this-"

Wolfe suddenly lunged towards me. I squawked with terror, thinking he was coming after me, and dashed out of the way. With a murderous look in his eyes, Wolfe snatched up the roll of paper towels I had been in front of and angrily ripped some out. "I'm going to kill you." He growled softly.

I didn't know whether he was talking to Brice or to me, but I was willing to bet it was me the threat was directed towards. Meanwhile, Brice was having the time of his life. He now had his phone out and was angling for the best shot of Wolfe drenched in coffee.

And what was I doing, you ask? What was I, the girl who just threw hot coffee into the face of one of the worst criminals in New York City, a well-known mobster, and the leader of a high-powered mafia that had Brooklyn on lockdown, the man behind the car chase that would go down in history, the one and only Wolfe Sterling, doing? Well, I was chewing on my bottom lip and trying to imagine what kind of coffin my parents would get for my upcoming funeral. Because, let's face it, I was going to die and I was going to die very soon.

As if this was not bad enough, some part of my brain decided to make it worse by talking. Nothing ever ended well when I opened my mouth. Not that this was going to end well either way, but whatever. I put down my now empty cup of coffee on the counter, took a deep breath, and said, "I'm sorry."

In the middle of wiping himself down, Wolfe paused just as the flash of a camera went off. Brice, still too amused by this whole situation to care, mumbled, "I'm going to put this on my Snapchat story." to himself. Wolfe glared at him but Brice had already ambled away, chuckling to himself. Now that Brice was gone, he turned his attention to me as I tried to fumble up an apology.

"Y'know-" I thought out loud. "-is was kind of your fault, Wolfe. If you really think about it. I mean, not the coffee part. I take full responsibility for that and I apologise. Actually, now that I think about it, it's not your fault. Sorry, I don't know where I'm going with this. You have a little-" I poked the collar of his shirt, which was staining from the coffee soaking in all over. "-something there-"

The look in Wolfe's eyes changed drastically from anger to even angrier anger. It was then I knew that I should take full advantage of my flight-or-fight instinct and get my sorry little butt out of there before Wolfe really did kill me.

Like an idiot, I darted out of the kitchen, nearly tripping over my own feet and panicking all at the same time. I was about to cry. "I'm sorry!" I squealed as the door swung shut. Not a moment later, it was pulled open as Wolfe ran after me, initiating a terrifying chase that I wanted no part of.

"Florence!" Wolfe growled. Footsteps followed almost immediately after mine. "You better fucking get back here before I-"

I didn't give him a chance to continue. Dashing madly around the tables and chairs like an idiot, I babbled on with my apologies. "I'm sorry, Wolfe! Really, what more do you want? I said I was sorry- ouch! I stubbed my toe! I stubbed my toe! Can we call like a time-out here or something? Oh, man-" I howled in pain, clutching my foot in one hand and hopping along with the other while still trying to get away from the big bad man chasing me. It was horrifying. There was nothing worse than being chased. And this was no ordinary fruitcake man either, this was an international serial killer.