— “Fine. Let’s go.” As the police led them out, Bill turned to Eleanor and whispered: — “You got lucky today. But what about next time?” Eleanor looked him in the eye and said: — “There won’t be a next time.” Bill smirked: — “That’s not up to you.”
The officer shoved Bill toward the car: — “Move it!” Bill and his crew were loaded into the cruisers. The diner went quiet. Mike walked over to Eleanor: — “Are you sure you’re okay?” Eleanor touched her side and winced: — “I’ll be fine.”
Mike looked at her with newfound respect: — “Eleanor, where did you learn to fight like that? Those weren’t just ‘moves.'” Eleanor hesitated, then said quietly: — “I spent some time in the service.” Mike nodded: “I figured as much. But that wasn’t just basic training.” Eleanor just smiled, and Mike didn’t push it.
At the station, Bill sat in an interrogation room. He was cool as a cucumber. The detective asked: — “Mr. Vance, care to explain the damage to Mike’s Diner?” Bill shrugged: — “Just a disagreement. We went to leave, a table got knocked over. No big deal.” The detective frowned: — “The place was trashed.”
Bill leaned back: — “Accidents happen. We didn’t hit anyone.” In the next room, Eleanor was talking to another officer: — “Ma’am, did they strike you?” Eleanor shook her head: — “No direct hits.” The officer was confused: — “Then the bruising?” Eleanor said: — “I tripped during the commotion.” The officer sighed: — “We need you to be honest if we’re going to help you.”
Eleanor paused: — “Honestly, I’m fine. It was just a scuffle.” The officer threw up his hands: — “If the victim won’t press charges, our hands are tied.” An hour later, Bill and his men were released. Rick was fuming: — “Boss, she made us look like amateurs!”
Danny agreed: — “We can’t let this slide.” Bill lit a cigarette outside the station: — “Slide? Not a chance.” Rick grinned: — “So what’s the plan?” Bill exhaled a cloud of smoke: — “Today was a fluke because of the cops. Next time, we pick the ground.”
Danny nodded: — “We need to find out where she’s staying.” Bill smirked: — “Already ahead of you.” Rick was surprised: — “How?” Bill pulled out his phone: — “I saw her car in the lot. I had a buddy at the DMV run the plates.” Danny laughed: — “That’s why you’re the Boss.”
Bill made a call: — “Yeah, it’s me. Give me the address on that plate I sent you.” Meanwhile, Eleanor left the station and got into her SUV. She gripped the wheel and took a deep breath. She checked her side—it was going to be a nasty bruise. She’d been out of the game for a while, and she was feeling it.
As she pulled out, she noticed a black sedan following a few cars back. She drove slowly, watching her mirrors. They were tailing her. She purposefully turned into a side street, and the sedan followed. She slammed on the brakes and looked back; the sedan stopped instantly. *Confirmed.*
Eleanor got out of her car and walked toward them. The driver of the sedan panicked and threw the car into reverse, peeling out and disappearing around the corner. Eleanor memorized the plate. *Vance’s boys.* She got back in her car, her jaw set. This wasn’t going to end quietly. She knew the type—bullies like Bill Vance never let go until they were broken.
On the way home, Eleanor stayed alert. She parked in her driveway and scanned the neighborhood. Clear for now. she went inside, turned on the lights, and looked at herself in the hallway mirror. She had a small cut on her cheek and a bruised rib. She grabbed her first-aid kit and started cleaning up. — “What’s next, Bill?” she muttered to herself.
That night, Bill gathered his crew in his office. Rick laid out a map: — “Boss, we found her place. It’s a quiet house on the edge of town.” Bill looked at the map and smiled: — “Perfect. We’ll pay her a visit tomorrow.” Danny asked: — “Are we going in hot?”
Bill nodded: — “Absolutely. This time, she doesn’t get a chance to call the cops.” Rick was pumped: — “I’m going to pay her back for my arm.” Bill put out his cigarette: — “We go at dawn. Be ready.” His men nodded: — “You got it, Boss.” The storm was gathering.
The next morning, Eleanor was covering the bruise on her face with some makeup. The doorbell rang. She looked through the peephole and saw Mike, the diner owner. She opened the door, and Mike was standing there with a brown paper bag: —
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