And he reacted with clicking teeth, missed her hand by a few inches.

She spun, cracking an elbow to the back of his head.

He stumbled forward just a bit—groaned wetly.

The heel of her shoe cracked the back of one knee, then the other.

He fell, sending a tremor through the floor that ran up Lola’s legs and into her spine.

She jumped on him, pressed her knee to the pack of hotdogs that was the back of his neck, pushing with every ounce of strength she had to keep that mouth aimed at the floor. He tried to turn his head, but she kept him face-down, baring her teeth and grunting with exertion. She yanked the cuffs from her hip, snapped one end over his left wrist. Getting his arm far enough behind his back to reach the other wrist proved to be a task for two.

“Jennings…help.”

“Awe, fuck it.” He released the woman who went right for her plate. Blood leaked from her wounds at just slightly a slower pace than before.

Jennings, slowly and clumsily, got down on one knee and wrenched the man’s free arm behind his back toward the cuffs. With both Lola and Jennings pushing each arm toward the other, they just barely got them close enough to finish the cuff job.

Lola took lungfuls of air, soured by the scent of food and the sting of mace. Her chest heaved and she caught Jennings drinking in the up and down movement of her breasts. She was too exhausted to care.

“Not bad, kid. Now how do you suggest we get this fucker in the car, hmm?”

Lola had been thinking about just that at that moment. She couldn’t lift the son of a bitch up, and she didn’t want to risk getting bitten.

Then it hit her. She knew exactly what to do.

“Wait here.”

She jumped up, ran to the closest table, grabbed a plate full of food to the displeasure of the elderly woman eating it. The wrinkled flesh of the woman’s face jiggled as her gaze followed the plate in Lola’s hand.

“Let him up,” Lola said.

“You fuckin’ crazy? We need back up.” Jennings looked ready to pass out. His shirt was soaked in sweat, his hair pasted to his forehead.

“Just let him up.”

Jennings didn’t have a choice because the fat man caught a glimpse of what Lola carried just a few feet away from him and he tossed Jennings’s fat ass away like a winter coat. He hobbled to his feet, with arms behind his back, and followed Lola as she crept backward.

“Come and get it, you fat fucking slob.” She backed toward the door.

“Hey, what you doing?” The Chinese man shook his fist and peered at Lola with thin slits.

Once outside, Lola was thankful for the fresh air. The smell of that restaurant hit far too close to home for her. She backed toward the cruiser, taking quick glimpses over her shoulder to make sure she didn’t step off a curb, twist her ankle, and become this lard ass’s next meal.