Jason twirled the gun around, two, three times then let it fly.
Mark watched in dismay as a piece of the ivory pistol grip broke away when the gun hit the sidewalk.
The two men entered Granny’s Cafe, Eric walking backward, grinning, pointing his fingers at Mark as though they were pistols.
Mark climbed to his feet, his butt ached and one hand was scraped up. Thru the cafe window he saw the two men standing at the counter talking to Cookie. He knelt down and picked up his pistols, sticking one in it’s holster, and examining the broken grip on the other. He cast his eyes about until he spotted the shard of ivory. Maybe he could super glue it back in place.
Mark glanced over at the cafe when he heard the bell over the door jingle. The two guys were coming out. The one that had broken his gun was counting some bills, the other guy was doing a little sideways dance, talking fast as they reached the car.
Beneath the shadow of his hat Marks eyes narrowed and his teeth clenched as they drove away.