With Daniel’s attention off of us, Ryan touches my leg again. In a tone so low it’s almost inaudible, he says, “It’s going to be okay, Willow. I promise.”
CHAPTER 2
RYAN
Why did I say that?
It’s going to be okay. I promise.
How can I promise such a thing?
We’re being held hostage in a store by an armed and unstable man.
It’s been six hours and the police still haven’t convinced him to let us go.
We still don’t know what Daniel wants, so there’s no way to even offer it to him.
I don’t have a weapon to fight back. I don’t think anyone in the store does. Or if they do, they’re too scared to use it, which I can hardly blame them for.
So, yeah, things aren’t looking great.
I should have just bought my brother-in-law a six-pack of beer from the Hop-less Horseman, like I did last year. Then I would have been in and out in minutes and free to move on to the rest of my day. I’d be home by now, wrapping presents and listening to classic Christmas music and snacking on the cookies my pharmacy tech, Kelly, gave me as a gift yesterday.
I wouldn’t be a hostage, that’s for sure. And my life wouldn’t be flashing before my eyes, filled with what-ifs and if-onlys and thoughts of the things I wish I’d done differently.
Like manning up and asking Willow out, for one.
The possibility of death makes you reconsider your choices, I’ve heard. I have friends who’ve been in life or death situations, and they’ve said it threw everything into perspective. Like my buddy, Ben, who volunteers at the Ambulance Corps with me and Willow. When his now-wife, Thea, was in danger, it made him realize that theirjust-friendsrelationship wasn’t enough.
“I didn’t think I wanted a relationship,”he admitted.“After everything with my ex, I thought it was a complication I didn’t need. But when I saw Thea hurt, when I realized I could have lost her… I knew I had to give things with her a shot.”
Not that I haven’t thought about asking Willow out before. I have. Plenty of times. But there’s always been a reason not to. I was busy with work and didn’t have time to date. My dad broke his hip and I needed to spend my weekends driving to Rhinebeck to help around the house. I overheard Willow talking about going on a date. What if I asked her out and she wasn’t interested, and it made things between us weird?
The excuses made sense at the time.
But now? Shit. I wish I’d taken the chance.
After all, what’s the worst that would have happened? Things didn’t work out and we realized we were better off as friends? We’d suffer through some awkward shifts at the Corps together? I’d feel weird and itchy when I inevitably saw Willow out on a date with someone else?
Those are all things I could survive.
But if Daniel hurts Willow…
Just because he hasn’t shot anyone yet doesn’t mean he won’t.
And just because I’m a paramedic and pharmacist doesn’t mean I can save her life.
Shit.
I turn my attention away from Daniel to glance at Willow again. She looks scared, of course—pale, her freckles standing out in stark contrast, and her green-gold eyes wide with fear. Her caramel hair is falling free from her ponytail, and I’m struck with the oddest urge to pull it away from her face and gather it back for her.
She looks small and vulnerable, all hunched up with her arms wrapped tightly around her knees. Every so often, a slight shudder shakes her body. The tiny hairs around her forehead are damp with perspiration, which I first chalked up to nerves, but now I’m worried it’s an indication of something more serious.
Protectiveness surges, swift and intense.
And with it, a certainty that I made the right choice by coming here.
If I’d stuck with the beer, Willow would be facing this alone.
