All the Days After

by Carrie Thorne

  The sale was pretty fantastic. Two-for-one sleeping bags. A nice, extra-long navy blue one with a green zipper in Seahawks colors had his name written on it. As luck would have it, right next to it was a lighter blue one with a black zipper that could zip right up to it to make a big sleeping bag for two.

  Getting ahead of yourself? Yeah, probably. For a city girl, Sophie seemed to love the outdoors. Had she ever been camping? Not wanting to miss the sale, he picked up the pair of sleeping bags. Camping gear was a thoughtful birthday present, wasn’t it?

  On his way to the checkout, he accidently picked up a pink flashlight and gunmetal gray multipurpose tool for her. And that was it. And a gift card. She’d want some decent hiking boots. By the time he left, he had a nice amount of rewards points accumulated. Good investment, really.

  Tossing the massive load of gear into the backseat of the pickup, he tossed his jacket over the top to cover the pile of booty. Pleased with his purchases, hoping Sophie would be as thrilled with the gifts as he was, he checked his watch. Nice timing. Sophie should be finishing up at the bank soon.

  ***

  Sophie’s knee rattled at high speed as the banker finalized the last of the documents. Each click of his fingers on the keyboard hammered into her skull, a thundering doomsday countdown. Outside the cubicle walls, she could hear the chipper greeting of a teller to a customer depositing her paycheck. At the self-service counter, two other customers were clearly good friends, ragging each other about last week’s bingo tournament. All were happy and enjoying the marvelous afternoon. None were counting down the seconds until they were struck with a full-scale blackmail attack.

  When would Yvette start the harassment? Would she wait until morning? She’d never remembered Sophie’s birthday before, but something told Sophie she wouldn’t miss this one.

  “Miss Jones, your funds will be deposited directly into your savings account at 0800 tomorrow morning. If you choose to transfer any of it into a CD or mutual fund, I’ll be more than happy to help.” Around her age, maybe a year or two older, Kai Higgins, banker extraordinaire, extended his hand and shook hers in an easy handshake. He was incredibly handsome, with his rich olive skin, thick ebony hair, and dashing smile. Obviously feeling her out for a transition to a social conversation once their business was concluded.

  “Thanks, Kai. I’ll see you around.” She grinned back at him, hiding her anxiety about the whole funds transfer. Maybe if she automatically put a large chunk into a CD, she couldn’t get to it when Yvette asked, and she wouldn’t be able to give her anything, even if she wanted to.

  Smoothing his sapphire blue tie, he warmly added, “I’m sure we’ll have more than a few mutual customers. Don’t hesitate to call me if you need anything.”

  Sliding back in the chair, Sophie just rose to stand, her butt barely off the chair, when a deafening crack sliced through the air. The subsequent crash of debris from the ceiling left little doubt as to the cause of the noise.

  Instinctively ducking down, she and Kai both hit the ground in an instant.

  “Alright everybody, faces on the floor and hands behind your heads.” A hoarse voice bellowed over the whimpers and screams from the four other bank customers and the handful of employees.

  Subtly watching through the open cubicle doorway, Sophie did as she was told and stilled as four armed, masked figures spread out swiftly across the room. Each with a pistol in hand and another at the hip, they didn’t seem to be locals looking for drug money.

  Asher would be here any minute. Keeping her head low to the ground, not wanting to attract attention, she was only able to make out the bright sun shining into the tops of the windows. The cubicle wall blocked her from being able to see outside, and certainly there was no way to warn Asher to stay away.

  From his spot on the floor a few feet away, Kai inched toward her. Subtly, sternly, Sophie shook her head, not wanting to attract attention. He stilled and responded with a glimmer of a nod, recognizing she was right. With a subtle eyebrow raise, he angled his head and silently asked if she was okay.

  Nodding, she indicated that she was fine, appreciating the concern, even though he could clearly see she was unharmed and exhibiting no more panic than the others. Offering him a small, reassuring smile, she turned her head back to watch the chaos unfold.

  Two of the bandits walked behind the teller counter, demanding to be taken to the vault. A third announced as he watched the few customers and bank employees on the floor, “We’re thirty seconds behind already. Let’s move it along. I won’t hesitate to shoot anyone who slows us down.”

  The fourth watched the door, standing over the downed security guard. His gun drawn, eyes constantly on the move, the sentinel didn’t miss anything.

  Studying the guard through the wide cubicle doorway, Sophie searched for signs of blood or awkward positioning of his body. He looked to be okay. Yeah, he was okay. His chest was rising and falling slowly under the bandit’s foot.

  ***

  Whistling a cheery tune, Asher almost missed the unmistakable sound of a single gunshot echoing from the bank. Years of training and instincts flowed through him like a rapid rush of stimulants. The few pedestrians nearby looked around for the backfire of an engine and otherwise went about their day.

  Sprinting along the wall until he reached the bank door, Asher listened intently without getting close enough to the window that he might be seen. A few whimpers and squeals, but otherwise the bank had gone silent.

  Lacking a mirror, Asher turned on the camera on his phone and angled it so he could see in the glass bank door without giving away his position. One just inside the door, a security guard at his feet. In the distance, another one near the tellers, filling a bag with cash from their drawers. Where was Sophie?

  Through the front door, open only a slight crack, he heard a disdainful voice announce, “We’re thirty seconds behind already. Let’s move it along. I won’t hesitate to shoot anyone who slows us down.” Judging by the matching uniforms and discreet, but very effective, twenty-twos, one in the holster and one in hand, they weren’t amateurs.

  If he were to try to make a move, someone would get hurt, maybe killed. They likely didn’t want to add murder to their list of crimes. An organized unit, you’d think they’d hit bigger banks in bigger cities. Unless this was part of the gig; hit the unsuspecting small-town banks where they’d meet less resistance.

  Sophie was in there somewhere. She was smart; she wouldn’t do anything to put herself in danger. Unless it was to protect others. Anxiously, he scanned the room to find her.

  “Asher, how the hell are you?” Jonah Larson, a few years ahead of him in school, stood at his side. Dressed in a black police uniform, shiny badge and all.

  Crisply, succinctly, Asher whispered, “Bank robbery. I see two, but likely at least one or two more at the vault from what I can tell.”

  Larson immediately backed against the wall next to him. “It’s payday. Armored truck would have been by an hour ago. I can get in the back door.”

  “If we interrupt, someone’s much more likely to get killed.”

  “Fair point. I’m good with holding here.”

  From inside, a scream echoed. Panning his camera, he saw a woman being dragged by her hair across the room. “Never mind. Guess we’re not that lucky. It’s getting ugly, hostage. Why don’t you head to the back? I’ll take these two in front.”

  Larson didn’t hesitate. Despite this being his territory, he didn’t seem to question words of experience. Asher appreciated his lack of ego; ego usually ended up getting everyone else killed.

  “Ninety fucking seconds. You’re all slow.” The asshole holding the woman by the hair shouted at the crowd. Trying to frighten? Play with them? Or would he kill her just for fun?

  Asher didn’t have time to wait for Larson to take position. The gunmen aimed his weapon at the hostage he’d taken.

  As if a normal, happy customer, Asher strolled right in through the front door. Surprised, the gunman
at the door spun to aim at him, but Asher closed the distance between them in a blink.

  Interrupting the momentum, moving swiftly and methodically, Asher grabbed the gun with his far hand, pointing the barrel at the floor as he took control, and with his opposite elbow, he clocked the guy in the Adam’s apple.

  Coughing, clutching his throat, the door guard was temporarily out of commission. The asshole in the middle of the room turned and hesitated, assessing the sudden southward turn in the situation.

  Big mistake. Asher took advantage of the pause and fired a single shot with the borrowed gun and nailed the guy in the shoulder.

  Risky move with a weapon he’d never fired himself, but the shot was clear and no one behind in case he missed. Not that he ever missed. If he’d waited another second, the hostage would have been between him and the robber.

  With breathing now calming but not yet stable, the front door man struggled to stand and threw a desperate punch at Asher’s jaw.

  Ducking, Asher used the guy’s momentum against him and threw him onto the ground, his own feet rock steady.

  With a swift jab to the head, he clocked the guy’s skull against the tile floor and knocked him out.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Asher could see movement from the back.

  “Status?” One of the robber’s demanded as she peered into the main area.

  A quick rapport of two shots could be heard from the back room. Front area secure, Asher sprinted across the floor and leaped over the teller counter, sliding over the faux granite on his hip.

  One of the robbers limped on a bleeding thigh towards him. Way to go Larson. Still armed, however.

  Aiming at Asher with a shaking hand, the asshole tried to steady himself, furious and barely walking. Not a very good plan, adding murder to one’s charge of armed robbery.

  Easily containable, Asher ducked and rolled, swiping his leg and grabbing the gun from the flailing arm before it could fire.

  Larson appeared from the back room, weapon drawn as he scanned the scene. Whipping his head around, Asher checked the room again to ensure any threats were still neutralized.

  Sirens blared as backup arrived. Two more cops came rushing in and secured the scene. Pretty well trained for a small town.

  Customers and employees of the bank started to rise, most speechless and taking in the chaos. It had taken less than a minute for Asher and Larson to come in and take down the robbers. His eyes wandered the crowd, searching out the reason he was here.

  Stepping out from the far cubicle, Sophie’s frazzled but smiling face melted him immediately. Closing the distance between them in an instant, he pulled her against him and held on until he was convinced she was safe.

  Nuzzling against his neck, her breathing was calm and steady. Unlike his. In the moment, he’d been the machine he’d been trained to be.

  Now, holding her, realizing how close he’d come to losing her, he knew she was never going to be just a friend. If she’d been hurt…

  “Asher?” Larson interrupted, voice calm, steady, and barely above a whisper.

  Tucking Sophie at his side, he turned towards Larson. Realizing he was still clutching the robber’s gun, he double checked the safety and handed it to the officer next to Larson for processing. “All good?”

  Larson nodded. “Nice work. You have some time to come over to the station to chat for a bit?”

  Shit. Never good when a cop asks you that. His eyes strayed downward to the badge, noting that Larson wasn’t just a cop, he was the chief. “Of course.”

  Turning to Sophie, he raised his eyebrows in question, “You want to see if Jane can give you a lift home?”

  She shook her head. “I can wait. I’ll come with you. I could use some time to cool down before heading home anyway.”

  Larson nodded, “Why don’t I meet you both at the station? The others will be taking statements from everyone in the bank anyway, and it’s going to take a while for everyone here to be cleared. Might actually be faster this way.”

  “Thanks, Chief Larson. We’ll head right over.” Sophie leaned against Asher as she gave the chief a tired smile.

  “Chief Larson was my father. It’s Jonah. See you in a few.” He winked and left to check in with the cops on scene that had already started their questioning.

  Heading out the front door, Asher couldn’t seem to let go of Sophie. Not caring who they ran into or what anyone thought, he clutched her hand and wasn’t letting go.

  Jane stood outside the bank with a small crowd, anxiously wringing her hands until she saw the two of them come out. “Are you okay? I heard the shots and came out as soon as I saw the police arrive.” Checking her nephew and her new partner for any sign of injury, she looked them up and down. Satisfied neither were hurt, she threw her arms around the pair.

  Not one to be rattled easily, Jane stepped back, took a steadying breath, and put her hands on her hips. “Well. I’m just glad you’re both okay.” Noting they were holding hands, she added with a smile, gesturing, “I was going to hint to Denise that you two would make a nice couple. I see you beat me to the punch.”

  Shit. Sophie didn’t deny it. Very matter-of-factly, she agreed, “I’m really glad you think so. We like each other.”

  Wincing, Asher pleaded, “Mind not saying anything just yet? Pippa would kill us both.”

  Laughing uproariously, pleasantly shattering the doom and gloom that hung over the crowd, Jane nodded in agreement. “I won’t say a thing. I nearly forgot about… you know. All that fuss she threw. As much as I love my niece, sort of serves her right. Her first friend worth keeping around happens to be such a good match for you.”

  Neither knew quite what to say. What did she mean by ‘her first friend worth keeping around?’ Well, Asher supposed she really hadn’t had a genuinely good friend since they were in grade school. What kind of friend snuck into her friend’s brother’s bedroom in the middle of the night? Ouch, Pippa was going to kill them both.

  Jane watched his struggle to understand her comments and winked. “You’ll figure it out. Just take good care of each other. I’m glad you’re okay.” Flitting back into Foothills Accounting, Jane laughed the entire way.

  Adrenaline crashing, Asher leaned gently on Sophie, absorbing some of her strength.

  ***

  Larson had been talking to him for an hour now. It had taken about thirty seconds to get her statement, then she’d been politely kicked out. She knew she could call Jane or even Pippa to come get her, but she didn’t want to. This must have added to his stress level. She needed to stay, in case he needed anything.

  The Foothills police station was actually pretty nice. From the plaque she read above the set of chairs she was planted in, it had been built over a hundred years ago and was one of the first in the area. Classically constructed with woodwork everywhere, wooden stairs and railing to a mysterious upper story, creaky hardwood floors, thick wooden doors. She could almost smell the timber under the scent of the receptionist’s spaghetti.

  Leaning back in the minimally cushioned waiting chair, she tried to stimulate circulation to her low back again. After her butt had formed a likely permanent indent in the flimsy foam and fake leather, she’d given up the effort to attempt to find a comfortable position. The receptionist gave her another sweet smile, but still had no updates for her.

  Her knee was going a mile a minute. Glancing at her phone, she remembered she’d run the battery down to about nothing. Tempted to bite her nails, she sat on her hands to prevent a relapse. Well, another relapse. There wasn’t much left to chew anyway.

  Finally, the door at the far end of the office opened, and she could see Chief Larson standing in the open doorway. Jonah. He couldn’t be more than four or five years older than Asher. A bit shorter, hair neatly trimmed, full beard. Fit but stalky. Gentle eyes; that was a nice thing to see in a police chief.

  He shook Asher’s hand firmly. Both men smiled. “Think about it. I’ll look forward to your email.”

 
; In a typical military-efficient walk, Asher motioned for her to follow him out of the building, but didn’t pause until they reached the passenger door to his truck. He was quiet, biting his lip to hide a smile as he opened her door for her, then dashed around the front of the truck and hopped in the driver’s side. The suspense was driving her crazy.

  ***

  “Well? What was that all about?” She demanded as she buckled her seatbelt, bouncing slightly on the spring-loaded seat.

  Finally, he fired up the engine. After three tries, it cooperated. “He offered me a job. Well, sort of. I have to formally apply and send him my resumé, then he’ll check references and cover all the official bases.”

  “That’s fantastic. I guess Old Chief Larson retired, huh?”

  “About three years back. Young Larson, Jonah, took his place. Good guy. Nothing like his father. He was a few years older than me in school. We got along well.” He put his hand on the gear shifter to get them moving towards home, but he paused, considering for a moment.

  Pulling his hand back, he turned to Sophie. Leaning across the truck, the chest strap of her seatbelt following, she met him halfway. Cradling her face with his hands, he kissed her deeply, intensely, packed with emotion. He rested his forehead against hers, ran his tongue over the crease of his lips, enjoying the taste of her on his lips.

  Satisfied grin pasted to his face, he sat back up and shifted into first gear and pulled into traffic. “That scared the hell out of me, knowing you were in there in the middle of all that. I don’t know what the hell is going on with me, but I know it has everything to do with you. This friend thing… not going to work. I’m already way too far gone for you.”

  He chuckled mirthlessly, “I’m usually a quick fuck and done sort of guy. I did promise to not have sex with you, but… it’s been rough.” He managed to keep his gaze directed steady out the front windshield but couldn’t suppress the hungry growl in his voice.