Once again, Dave squeezes my hand. His features are like stone. “I promise,” he says quietly, a calm determination lacing his tone, “It’s going to be okay.”
CHAPTER 3
DAVE
She doesn’t look as if she believes me.
Not in her words—Hollis still hasn’t responded to my confident claim—but in the frightened look in her eyes and worried V of her brows. Her hand clutches mine to the verge of pain, hanging on as tightly as if she were clinging to the last life raft of a sinking ship.
I can’t say I blame her, based on what she knows.
In the brief time we’ve known each other, we haven’t yet ventured into our backgrounds—old jobs, past relationships, and memories we’d prefer to leave buried.
So she only knows me as firefighter Dave. A guy who runs into burning buildings but doesn’t have the skills or training to take on an armed robber.
Or is he here for something more sinister?
With his hood pulled up like it is, it’s impossible to get a good look at his face. So there’s no way of knowing if this is random or if he intentionally targeted this place.
If he targeted one ofus.
I can’t help but wonder if this is the man who hit Hollis earlier, still angry, now drunk, and here for revenge.
Or…
Could my own past possibly be back to haunt me?
“Dave.” It’s a hissed whisper as Hollis catches my gaze. “What are you talking about? He has agun.”
Fear flickers through her eyes. Her nails dig into my palm.
“It’s okay,” I reply quietly. I cast a quick glance at the armed intruder, who’s now pointing his gun at the waitress and shouting at her to throw her phone on the floor. Satisfied his attention isn’t on me, I add, “I promise. I can handle this. But when I tell you to get down, I need you to do it right away.”
“What?”Her eyes go wide. “Dave. You can’t. We just need to… I don’t know. Give him our money. Try to get to our phones.Something.”
“Hollis.” I give her hand a little squeeze. Still speaking in an undertone, I lean forward slightly so she can hear me. “I’m not just a firefighter. Back when I used to live here, I was a cop. So I’m trained in situations like this. I know we haven’t known each other long, but I’m going to ask you to trust me.”
“You were a—” She clamps her lips shut, no doubt realizing that’s thelastthing we want this asshole to know. After a steadying breath, she whispers, “What do you need me to do?”
Damn.
I knew Hollis was something special. But this?
Most women would fire questions at me, no matter the circumstances. Or they’d freak out, putting us in more danger than we are already. Not Hollis. Instead of panicking, her instinct is to ask how she can help.
When we get out of this—and wewillget out of here safely—I’m asking her out on a date. It doesn’t matter that I haven’t known her long or that we live across the state from each other. In my gut, I know if I let her go, I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.
“I’ll need to get him close,” I tell her. “Once he’s within striking distance, I can disarm him. But that’ll be when it’s mostdangerous for you. So, when I give you the signal, I need you to drop down and hide under the table. Okay?”
She stares at me, unhappiness clouding her expression. “So I’m just supposed to hide while you’re facing off against a guy with a gun? What if…” Trailing off, she pauses to think. “What if I distract him? Then you can disarm him while he’s not looking. It would be safer…”
Oh.
My throat goes unexpectedly thick.
I dated Jane for over a year, and I know damn well she would never have put herself in danger for me. But after less than half an hour, Hollis is offering without hesitation.
Though it’s the most incongruous time, some of the bitterness I’ve held on to for the last six years falls away.
