by Susan Stoker
“Holy shit!” Kenny dropped to the floor, hissing a hushed, “Get down!”
Everyone but Lexi immediately ducked down, out of the intruder’s sights. As the owner, it was her duty to protect those in attendance.
The best way she knew to do that was to stay calm and not panic.
Easier said than done.
At least the cops would have loads of footage to go off of once this was all over. Last year, after her friend Charlie’s abusive ex vandalized a truck in the parking lot out back, Trevor had new cameras installed—both inside and out—as well as a silent alarm.
The problem was the panic button was located by the cash registers…on the opposite side of the room from where Lexi stood.
Trevor!
She wanted to call him. To hear his voice and know that everything was going to be okay.
Lexi glanced back up and saw one of the two men making his way back to the kitchen. Damn it. A phone call would be too risky.
In a split-second decision, she slid around to the far side of the large, metal shelf she was standing near. Trembling, she unzipped her purse and pulled out her phone.
Opening the messages icon, Lexi tapped Trevor’s name, and as quickly as her fingers would move, she typed out the message…
Being robbed. Two men with guns. I love you!
Lexi sent it, praying he’d see the text immediately.
“Hand over the phone!”
The deep voice coming from behind her startled her. She tried turning around, but froze when the cold, hard barrel of a gun was pressed roughly against the back of her head.
“Do it, now! Unless you want me to ruin that pretty dress of yours by covering it with your brains.”
Shit. She’d been so focused on sending the text, she hadn’t noticed another man had entered through the back door.
At least the message sent. Trev will get help. Just like last time.
Back when she and Trevor had just started dating, a crazed man from his past began stalking her. The guy blamed Trevor for something that wasn’t even his fault and ended up using her as bait to get back at him.
By the grace of God—and Trevor and the rest of R.I.S.C.’s Alpha Team—she’d survived the psychopath’s attack. A lot had changed since then, but the one constant Lexi knew she could always count on was Trevor’s love for her.
He’d see the text, and then he’d do whatever it took to save her and the others. Because that’s who her husband was.
A hero.
A warrior.
A man who had no idea he’s going to be a father.
“You’ve got two seconds, lady!” the man behind her warned.
Lexi’s chest tightened as she thought of the tiny baby growing inside her. Instinctively, she slid the palm of her free hand over her lower belly, wishing she could do more to protect him or her.
“H-here.” She held the phone out to the side. “Take it.”
“Smart girl.” He yanked it from her hand.
Smarter than you think, asshole.
“The rest of you,” the jerk addressed the kitchen staff. “On your feet slowly and…”
Her phone began to ring.
The masked man looked at the screen and then at her. “Who’s Trevor?”
“My husband.” Lexi swallowed. Praying she wasn’t making a horrible mistake, she looked him in his bloodshot eyes and said, “I sent him a text, so he knows you’re here. If you’re smart, you and your friends will leave before the cops show up.”
Her phone continued to ring.
“Nice try.” The guy started to put it away.
“Why would I lie about that?”
The ringing stopped.
Keeping his gun trained on her, he opened the last message she’d sent. Even from beneath the knitted ski mask, Lexi could see the muscles in his jaw flex as he read her typed words.
Dark, infuriated eyes swung back to hers. “You bitch!”
Before Lexi could react, his hand flew toward her face. Pain exploded in her cheek as his rough knuckles—and her phone—made contact. Stars burst before her eyes.
She cried out, the blow sending her flying off her feet. Her coat and purse fell away from her in opposite directions, but Lexi somehow managed to throw her hands out in front of her to break her fall.
Don’t hurt the baby. Please, don’t hurt my baby.
Having barely kept her midsection from slamming against the tiled floor, Lexi kept her head down and tried to regain her focus. Nausea rolled through her gut and a slow, warm trickle of blood began dripping down the side of her face.
“Hey!” Kenny shot to his feet and started for the man who’d hit her.
A deafening boom echoed off the walls, causing Lexi’s ears to immediately start ringing. Muffled screams broke through the high-pitched sound, and with blurred and teary eyes, she saw Kenny’s body fly backward against the sink.
Bright, crimson blood began to seep into the white material covering his left shoulder.
Oh, God!
“Kenny!” Lexi tried standing, but the man pointed his gun back in her direction.
“One more move, and you’re next.”
“What the fuck?” The man she’d been watching earlier came barreling through the set of swinging doors. He took in the scene, his angry eyes landing on a grimacing Kenny. “You shot him? Jesus, Shawn.”
“Don’t say my name, Goddamnit! We agreed, no names.”
“Yeah? Well, I also said no shooting!”
“It’s this bitch’s fault!” The one called Shawn jutted his gun at her. “She sent a text to her fucking husband. Told him about us.”
Lexi pushed herself into a sitting position and leaned against the cool, metal shelf behind her.
“That’s right.” She put a hand to her cheek and winced. “You should leave now. Go out that door”—she pointed to the back entrance—“and run through the trees. There’s still plenty of time for you to get away.”
Shawn looked at his buddy intently. “You heard her, man. The cops are coming. Let’s go.”
“It’s not the cops you have to worry about.” Lexi forced her shoulders back and her chin up. “If my husband gets to you first, you’re all as good as dead.”
Lexi knew that with every fiber of her being.
“I’d listen…to her.” Kenny spoke through his pain. “Guy’s a total…badass. Part of some… black ops…team. Works with…Homeland…Security.”
Shawn snorted. “Bullshit.”
Lexi hadn’t planned on sharing that little tidbit with these idiots. But with her options as limited as they were, she decided to roll with it.
“It’s true.” She nodded. “My husband and his team are also very close with Dallas P.D. I guarantee you he alerted authorities the second he saw that text. The police are on their way here as we speak.”
“Fuck!” Shawn yelled loudly.
The guy was antsy as all get out and clearly wanted to leave. But the other man…the one who seemed to be in charge…acted as if the cops showing up wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.
Squatting down in front of her, his grey eyes stared directly into hers. “You’re her.” He lifted a gloved hand toward her injured face. “The one from the gas station.”
Gas station?
Lexi recoiled as far as the shelf would allow, determined not to let the asshole lay a finger on her.
“I saw you there earlier today. Heard you on the phone, bragging about how busy this place was going to be. You were right.” He looked over toward the large, open cutout separating the kitchen from the dining area. “I guess I should thank you.”
All of the air escaped from Lexi’s lungs. They were doing this because of her?
Forcing down the rush of bile threatening to bubble its way into her throat, she schooled her expression and jutted her chin. “You can thank me by taking your friends and getting the hell out of my restaurant.”
The man’s smile sent a shiver down her spine. His hand shot out, a fiery pain fillin
g her scalp when he grabbed hold of her hair and pulled her face to his.
“You’re either very brave or very stupid.” He began running the end of his pistol up her thigh, sliding it beneath the hem of her dress. “Since you’ve got a pussy between your legs, I’m gonna go for stupid.”
The guy obviously had a problem with women. No huge shock, there.
Sirens blared from somewhere nearby.
“Shit. Seriously, Bryan.” Shawn paced back and forth. “They’re coming. Let’s go!”
Apparently, the no-name rule doesn’t matter anymore.
Inside Lexi felt as though she was falling apart, but as scared as she was, she refused to cower down to these assholes. She had to stay strong.
For her staff.
For Trevor.
And for the new family they’d created together.
“He’s right, Bryan,” she told the man still holding onto her. “Time’s running out.”
“You guy’s hear that?” The third man came running to the serving window. With his head on a swivel in order to keep an eye on the other hostages, he said, “The cops are almost here. I got all the wallets and phones.” He held up a lumpy, weighted pillowcase. “What the hell are we waiting for?”
“Fuck this, I’m out.” Shawn turned for the back door.
Bryan let her go and pointed his gun at his partner. “Take another step and I blow a hole through your spine.”
Shawn turned back around. “Really? What are you gonna do? Shoot me for trying to keep my ass from getting arrested?”
“It’s too late.” Bryan pointed to the air and tilted his head. “Hear that? They’re already on us.”
Shawn began to panic even more. With his hands holding the sides of his head, he began pacing back and forth like a wild man.
“Shit… Fuck… Shit!” The shelf behind Lexi shook from the force of Shawn’s hand smacking against it.
“Dude, chill,” Bryan muttered. “It’s going to be fine.”
“Fine?” The man’s voice rose an octave. His eyes widened as they slid to something behind Bryan. “Look outside, asshole. We’re about as far from fucking fine as you can get.”
The third guy, who was still at the window, turned around to see whatever it was Shawn was talking about. “Ah, hell. There are so many lights it’s like freaking Christmas!”
“What do we do now?” Shawn looked to Bryan for direction.
The police are here.
It was a wonderful thing…and a horrible thing.
If the cops were present, then they for sure knew of the situation. But they most likely had the place surrounded, which meant these guys would either have to surrender or…
Bryan doesn’t seem like the surrendering type.
Lexi let out a slow breath. Damn it. Why didn’t the idiots leave when they had the chance?
This is your fault. If you hadn’t texted Trevor, they’d probably be gone by now. Kenny wouldn’t have been shot, and you wouldn’t be sitting here with a throbbing headache from getting clocked with your own phone.
No. She couldn’t allow herself to believe that. Texting Trevor was the exact right thing to do.
This was her restaurant. These people were her responsibility. And after what she went through a couple of years ago, Lexi had promised herself she’d never be a victim again.
It’s why she’d stood up to Shawn the way she had. She thought maybe if the jerks knew about the text, they’d get scared and leave.
Instead, she’d put her staff at even more risk. She’d put herself and her baby at risk. Kenny had been shot, and now they were all stuck here with these three maniacs.
I’m sorry, Trev. I’m so, so sorry.
“Bry!” Shawn shoved at Bryan’s shoulder. “Are you even listening to me, man?”
Slowly, Bryan stood. Using his teeth, he removed one of his gloves.
“Give me the phone.” He let the glove drop and held out his hand.
Shawn handed Bryan her phone. “What’s the plan?”
“We’re going to make a list. After that, we’re gonna make a phone call.”
“A phone call?”
Bryan nodded. “If this bitch’s husband is who they say he is, then he’s got enough connections to get us a shit ton more money than what’s in those wallets. He can also arrange for a ride out of here.”
Shawn looked back at his partner in disbelief. “Do you even hear yourself? Jesus!”
“He’s right, Bry,” the man at the window sided with Shawn. “Maybe we should just—”
“Maybe you two should shut your mouths and do what I say!” Bryan bellowed. “I’m in charge, remember? This whole plan was mine, so unless you want to give up your cuts, I suggest you stop your whining and get back to watching the hostages. And pick two of them to close the blinds on all the windows so the cops can’t see inside.”
Lexi sucked in a silent breath. She wondered if the guy even realized what he’d just said.
Bryan had just confessed to planning the robbery. She heard it, the kitchen staff heard it, and the cameras most likely picked it up, too.
If the dumbass makes it out of this thing alive, he’s going to be so screwed.
Bryan and the other guy began discussing demands. They argued back and forth for what felt like hours before coming up with ones they both agreed on. When they were finally finished, he used the notes app on her phone to type out a list of demands.
With his cold, arrogant eyes locked with hers, Bryan held the phone up so she could see he’d found Trevor’s number in her contacts. His lips curled into an eerie smile.
“Time to call your hubby.”
3
Trevor’s eyes were glued to Lexi’s building. Utterly helpless, he watched while two women—presumably hostages—dropped the blinds on all of the windows.
His insides shook, and he felt like he was going to puke while he waited for the police to decide on their next move.
It had been over half an hour since he’d gotten the text alerting him of the robbery, and he hadn’t been able to take a full breath since.
Please don’t take her from me.
There was only one other time in his life when he’d felt this same, soul-consuming fear. Two years ago, when Lexi had been kidnapped and nearly killed.
Thankfully he and his team found her just in time. They’d saved her, and as a bonus, Trevor had taken out the man who’d dared to touch what was his. That shit still gave him nightmares.
He’d vowed that day to never let that sort of danger come near her again. Yet here he was, standing with his thumb up his ass while his wife—his life—was inside with those bastards.
“Let me go in.” He turned to the man standing to his right. “My team should be on their way, and you know we don’t travel light.”
Meaning they all carried weapons and other tactical gear in their personal vehicles. You never knew when the occasion may arise where it was needed.
This sure as hell qualifies.
Looking official in his black slacks, white button-up, and DPD ballistics vest, Detective Eric West was the twin brother to Derek West, one of Trevor’s teammates.
He was also a friend.
“You know I can’t do that.” Eric stared back at him, his expression a mixture of frustration and pity.
“Bullshit.” Trevor growled. “You’re the detective in charge.”
With his hands on his hips, Eric shifted his body to face him more directly. “That’s right. I am in charge, which means I have to follow department procedure. That means I can’t allow a civilian to voluntarily walk into a hostage situation.”
“I’m not a civilian!” Trevor shouted. Okay, so technically he was, but fuck. “My team and I have more training and experience with hostage rescue missions than any HRT the Dallas PD has on their payroll.”
The department’s Hostage Rescue Team was probably damn good at its job, but this was his wife they were talking about. Still, Eric didn’t back down.
“You alre
ady told me the place was going to be packed tonight, which means there are a helluva lot of lives resting in my hands right now. If I let you and your team go in and something goes sideways, that shit’s on me.” Eric ran a hand over the stubble covering his jaw. “I’m sorry, Trev, but until we know more about what we’re dealing with, I can’t send anyone in.”
Pinpricks of fear and frustration stabbed at every last nerve in Trevor’s body.
“We know exactly what’s going on in there.” He held up his phone so Eric could see the text again. “Lexi told us. Two HT’s. Two, Eric. You know Alpha Team can take ’em. Hell, I could take them myself.”
“But at what cost?” Riley, Eric’s partner, walked toward them. The attractive woman’s long, dark hair was slicked back in a flawless ponytail that swished from side to side as she moved. “You take one hostage-taker out, the other could start shooting innocent civilians. We could lose a lot of lives before you’re able to put one of your bullets in the bastard.”
On the verge of losing his temper completely, Trevor kept his voice steady, but firm. “I won’t give him the chance to shoot.”
Riley seemed to be considering this, but the same pity he’d seen in Eric’s eyes a minute before reflected back at him through hers.
“You’re too close to this thing, Trevor.” She held onto the upper straps of her vest. “If you weren’t, you’d know we’re doing everything we can to make sure everyone, including Lexi, gets out of this thing unscathed.”
They’re not fucking listening!
“What if it was Charlie in there?” Trevor turned back to Eric. “You really going to stand there and tell me you’d be sitting around, waiting for the HT’s to make their move if that was your sister-in-law in there?”
“Fuck no, he wouldn’t.”
Speak of the devil.
All eyes turned to see Derek and Charlie—the sister-in-law in question—approaching the yellow barricade the police had erected to keep the public back. He pointed to the tape and waited for his brother to give them permission to cross under and join them.
Though he looked more like a West Coast surfer, Derek was a former SEAL and Alpha Team’s genius tech wizard. He was also the group’s class clown.
The guy was always wearing dumbass t-shirts and cracking jokes but not tonight. Tonight he was dressed in a suit and tie, and his usual playful attitude was nowhere to be seen.