Greg's jaw set, and he was dangerously still for a long second before he drew his hand back and pistol-whipped the bastard across the face, watching him crumple to the floor with a satisfying crunch of a cheekbone.
Resetting the gun, he stashed it in the back of his jeans, standing with a half-glance back to Ray before deciding against speaking, instead choosing to head down the hall, towards the girls.