Chapter 2
Misty had hoped she could find a moment to hit the emergency button under the counter. The gunman didn’t ask the tellers to empty their drawers, during which time one of them could have tripped the silent alarm or at least slipped a dye pack in with the money.
They were going after the bigger haul. The vault. And it sounded as if they knew what they were doing.
As the manager, security guard, and Gabe were marched into the teller area, Misty hoped a customer would come up the steps, see what was going on, and call the cops. She listened carefully, but all she heard were the sounds of traffic and her coworker’s sniffles. She glanced over at Betsy, a young mother of two, and hoped nothing would happen to her. To any of them. Even her slimy manager, Adam.
Gabe caught her eye and gave her a pointed look. She gave him a slight headshake. She didn’t want him trying to be a hero. She couldn’t believe her lousy luck. After all this time, finally moving back to the city as an independent woman, the last thing she needed was for her childhood crush to feel like he had to rescue her—like a surrogate big brother.
If he lived through this, he’d tell Parker. If he didn’t live through this, she’d die. She’d adored Gabe during their years growing up in the South End. Their brownstone was three doors down from the Fierros, and when they were young, it wasn’t easy to find kids in the neighborhood to play with. But the Fierros’ door was always open to her, and Gabe had always treated her kindly. Of course, it was probably just because she was Parker’s little sister, but she had hoped there was more to it. To say she liked him would be tantamount to saying bears liked picnic baskets.
She had hoped they’d run into each other at some point and was secretly thrilled to see him here today. Although she would have preferred they’d met at a different time and place.
“On the floor!”
The robber’s harsh voice jolted her out of her musing.
The security guard and manager lay face down, but Gabe walked around them and went down on his knees in front of Misty. She was the only one standing, and to be honest, she was leaning against the vault to keep her knees from shaking. She was dizzy and felt like she might faint.
Gabe’s reassuring presence calmed her somewhat. He gave her a quick smile then lay down with his hands braced on the floor next to his shoulders.
“Okay, lady. Face the lock.”
As soon as she turned around, the criminal whistled. “Ha. I knew she’d have a spectacular ass. That’s why I asked you to do this, sweetheart.”
She wanted to argue with the guy, tell him she wasn’t his sweetheart and refuse to cooperate, but he’d probably call it “being mouthy,” and that wouldn’t help right now.
Adam was giving directions to her, but she barely heard him.
“What?” she said with a tremor.
“Tell her again.” The gunman kicked the manager’s leg.
“I said turn the lock to the left four times all the way around. Then stop at zero, and turn it to the right three times. Stop at twenty-one.”
Misty did as he said, spinning the dial left four times.
“Not like that. It’s very sensitive—and old. Turn it slowly and carefully.”
Misty took a deep breath and let it out, trying to relax. She had already forgotten if she had gone around three times or four. Her hand shook. “I don’t think I can do this. Can my manager take over, please?”
The gunman placed his foot on the manager’s ass. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” He chuckled. “Sometimes there’s a code the manager can dial in, but I’m betting you don’t know that either, sweetheart. So you’re my choice for doing this. Pull yourself together.”
“I’ll do it,” Gabe said.
The gunman rolled his eyes. “The customer wants to be a hero again. Fine. I don’t like the way you look like you’re ready to spring, anyway. But understand, I have my gun trained on your girlfriend.”
“Shit,” Gabe muttered.
“I can do it,” Misty said. “Seriously. I was just nervous, but I can do this.”
“Awww… Isn’t that sweet? They’re both trying to protect each other. Well, forget it. There are two of us and two of you. And we have weapons. We win.” He scanned the others across the floor and asked, “Does anyone else want to be a hero?”
The other tellers either shook their heads or murmured, “No, sir.”
“Good.” He waved his partner over. “Keep an eye on this one.” He nodded toward Gabe. Then with a nasty smirk on his face, he said, “I’ll keep my eye on his girlfriend.”
Gabe narrowed his eyes, and his lips compressed into a thin line, but he got up and moved to the lock.
