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Mo did a quick look around the room. Gertie looked stunned, Ida Belle looked mad, and Fortune? She looked detached, but her eyes moved around the room, rapidly assessing every detail.
"I'll go get it," Mo said. "Where is it, Gertie?"
The man with the gun protested. "No, she gets it, right Gramma?"
Mo stood and snapped, "What's wrong with you? Didn't you just hear our conversation? Without her glasses, she's likely to hand you a piece of her Cadillac. I know what my own car interior looks like. Besides, she has a sprained ankle." Gertie held up one foot so he could see the compression sock.
Mo repeated, "Gertie, where is it?"
Gertie bit her lip. "I put it in the spare bedroom upstairs, the one at the back of the house."
Mo faced off against the man who'd made her life hell for the last day-and-a-half. "Do you want to get it, or shall I?"
He motioned the women to the living room at the front of Gertie's house, then he unlocked the front door. Another man slid through the opening and closed the door before waving his pistol at them.
"I'm taking the fat one upstairs to get our merchandise," the first one said. "You keep an eye on the others."
Fat? He just called me fat. Mo's eye twitched and it didn't take much to work up her anger as she stomped to the stairs and marched up them with purpose. She trembled when she got to the bedroom door and put her hand on the doorknob. Her shaking hand prevented her from opening the door.
"What's wrong with you? Are you having a seizure or something, fat ass?" The angry man prodded her with his finger.
Mo turned his way and slipped on the loose rug Gertie placed on her hardwood floor. She went down with a crash and heard a yell from below. "What's going on up there?"
"She's either drunk or clumsy because she can't keep her balance," her gunman laughed. "Now get up," he commanded Mo. She used the wall to help get off the floor.
"Everything okay?" came the voice from below.
Then the intruder made his mistake. Assuming Mo was a scared, shaking blob of jello, he turned his attention from her for a second to call down the stairs, "Yeah, almost done." He turned back and took the blunt force of Mo's knuckles straight to his Adam's apple. His eyes bulged as he grabbed his throat in surprise, and his gun clattered to the floor.
"Hey what's going on? I'm coming up," the other gunman yelled.
By then Mo grabbed her guy's head with both hands and gouged her thumbs into his eyes. She gave them a few twists for good measure. His hands went from his throat to his eyes. Then he dropped because Mo used her knee quite effectively. Apparently criminals don't come with a standard issue cup. She turned, desperately searching for the gun, as criminal number two was on the stairs... or was he? It was quiet except for the wheezing and groaning coming from the floor. She glared and tee'd off on his family jewels again.
"Shut up!" she snapped. He lay in a fetal position, and then he puked on the floor. She finally spotted the gun and grabbed it, aiming it at him with shaking hands. She'd never shot anyone, but there had to be a first time for everyone, right? And if ever anyone deserved it, it was this piece of trash who lived off other people's misery and addiction.
Mo saw movement on the stairs and pointed the gun in that direction. It was Fortune, who held out her hand. "It's okay, Mo. We've subdued the one downstairs."
She aimed her gun at the guy on the floor. "This piece of crap destroys people and lives on the profits," she said to Fortune, who crept closer.
"Mo, you don't want to shoot him." she warned. "Once you do that, you can never take it back."
Mo turned wild eyes to Fortune. "Why not? He deserves to be tortured and killed, for all the pain and misery he's caused."
"He'll be taken care of, I promise you. Now give me the gun, Mo." Fortune moved her hand closer to Mo. Heavy footsteps on the stairs alerted Fortune that Carter and Tony were heading up. Ida Belle and Gertie wouldn't have let anyone else pass. Fortune gestured wildly behind her back, and the footsteps stilled.
Mo didn't even notice the sound. Tears freely ran down her face. "They ruin families." She wiped away angry tears with her free hand.
When the man on the floor stirred, Fortune moved her foot to a delicate pressure point and used just the right amount of force to keep him silent. "Was it your mother?" Fortune asked.
Mo nodded. "She broke Grannie's heart and didn't even care. Once she started using, all she cared about was herself." Her hand shook when she lowered the gun and said, "At the lawyer's office, all I could see were the track marks on her arms." She finally looked Fortune in the eyes. "And she didn't even care that I saw. She didn't want me- not ever. She only wanted money and drugs."
Fortune removed the gun from her hand, and the men moved up the stairs. Fortune handed the weapon to Tony while Carter took care of the man on the floor.
Mo slid down the wall to the floor, crying her heart out, and Fortune gave Tony a look of desperation. Tears made her uncomfortable and broken families... Fortune had to get down those stairs and outside for some fresh air. Carter wasn't far behind with his prisoner, and Gertie passed him on her way up.
"Ida Belle has the other gun," she told Carter, as she rushed by him, worried about Mo. Even though Tony was doing a very good job of letting Mo use his shirt as a towel, Gertie sat down with them and hugged them both.
"Group therapy?" Tony asked her with a smile.
Gertie nodded and handed Mo a few tissues, keeping one for herself to dab her own eyes once or twice. She and Ida Belle knew about Annie's pain all these years, but they didn't realize Mo also knew. Gertie shooed Tony with her hand. "I know you have official business to take care of. I'll handle the mop up duty," she said as she wiped a tear off Mo.