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You have never been robbed before. A feat you are relatively proud of given the gang activity around your town. The O’Driscolls have left you alone so far, not glancing twice at your shop, but you have growing suspicions about a couple of men standing outside. They’re lingering far too much for your comfort, looking around like they’re searching for something specific. You have a shotgun, most shop owners do. It’s a trusty short range weapon that makes for a good defense in close quarters like a shop. You’ve never really shot it at someone, but there is a first time for everything.
Your boss comes in, boxes in hand, and drops them on the counter. He’s an old man that’s owned this shop longer than anyone else has owned anything in this town. He smiles and asks you to put the inventory away while he visits the doctor. His back has been bothering him, so you’ve been taking care of the shop more and more. Half of you hopes he’ll just give you the shop, the other half is content with the pay increases and lack of stress. You turn your focus to the new inventory, taking stock with the catalog and making note of any defective product.
Then the bell on the door dings and you’re very upset with yourself for not being close enough to grab that shotgun. Two men enter, both masked. One has a piercing look and scars peeking out from under his mask, the other has red hair and a more relaxed gaze. You freeze as they aim their guns, knowing there’s not much you can do from your position.
“You’re gonna stay here.” The scarred man orders. “I’ll be in the back.”
His partner nods to him and he disappears into the store room where you know the old man keeps a stash of money.
“Hand over the money, love.” The redhead says with an obvious Irish accent. “I’d hate ta shoot a handsome lad like you.”
You step over to one of the boxes you’d been going through and grab the money. The robber holds his gun loosely, barley pointed at you. He’s more focused on looking you over as you gather the cash for him. When you hand him the money he lingers, letting his fingers brush over yours.
“Good man!” He says, glancing to the storage door. “If I’d known you was such a pretty face, I wouldn’t a’ introduced myself like this.”
He chuckles, eyes fixing on yours. With his distinctive features you wonder how no one has caught him yet. There aren’t a lot of redheads in general, there are even less that are immigrants, and substantially less that act the way he does. It’s a small town, people will recognise him if he sticks around for long. The mask doesn’t hide nearly enough.
“What’s takin’ so long, Marston?” He calls to his friend.
“Still lookin’!”
He sighs. “Could ya show us where the stash is, love?”
“The old man’s savings for his surgery?” You ask. “No.”
“Hey,” The robber laughs. “It’s the old man’s fault fer talkin’about it.”
“And you’re fine with an old man dying because you took his money for surgery?”
He groans. “That ain’t fair! We’re just makin’ a livin’, love.”
“I’m making a living.” You say, pointing to yourself. “You’re robbing an innocent old man.”
The robber rolls his eyes. “He can sell the shop, huh? Still be able to get his surgery.”
“And be bankrupt after? How thoughtful of you.”
“You’re startin’ ta get on my nerves, handsome.”
That is the point. The old man doesn’t even need surgery, not yet anyway. You just felt the need to annoy the cocky robber once he started flirting with you. His partner comes out from the back, a frustrated look on the half of his face you can see.
“I can’t find it.” He says.
The redhead looks at you. “Come one now, love. You show us the stash and I’ll let ya keep some of it.”
You pretend to think. You have no idea where the stash is, just that it’s back there somewhere. “Can’t do that.”
The redhead laughs. “I like ya love. Can we keep him, Marston? Please?”
The scarred robber draws his gun and aims it at you, much more solidly than his friend. “Where’s the money?”
You raise your hands. “Old man might have taken it to the doctor already. It’s not my shop, I don’t know.”
He lowers the gun. “Damn it.”
“Oh, it’s not a total loss, Marston.” The redhead laughs. “The handsome bloke here gave us a good amount. And he’s pretty easy on the eyes compared ta what I’m usually stuck with.”
“Let’s go.” The scarred man huffs, walking to the door.
“It’s been fun love.” The redhead holsters his weapon and winks at you. “Maybe I’ll see ya again, under more friendly circumstances.”
The robbers depart and you move over to the window. You can see them walking down the street, masks now removed to not draw suspicion. You make note of their faces as best you can to tell the Sheriff later. Cute or not, the bastard robbed you.