Chapter 14
Rain pounded the roof of Haylee’s truck as she drove through town, her windshield wipers furiously going back and forth, back and forth. The water came down so thick it was like milk and sounded like a drumbeat on her truck cab.
She’d picked a hell of a day to go to the bank.
She smiled. The rain could come down even harder, and she wouldn’t mind. Happiness welled inside her as she thought about the amazing weekend she and Tyson had just shared.
The gold hunting trip where they’d found the prospector’s ancient tintypes and letter, the night at the BBQ place and laying under the stars. Their day in Tombstone had been filled with shootouts, shopping, getting their pictures taken, and a ghostly evening.
Heat rushed over her as she thought of the best thing of all—making love with Tyson.
What filled her with warmth and wonder was that she was in love. She loved Tyson Donovan.
Did he feel the same way? He cared for her, she knew that much. It might take time for him to fall in love with her. She could wait.
Haylee pulled her truck into Arizona Savings Bank’s paved lot, the rain so hard she could barely see the lines to make sure she parked straight.
Damn it, she’d forgotten to put an umbrella in the truck. She hurried out of the vehicle and locked the door with the fob as she jogged to the bank entrance. Icy rain soaked her hair and clothing almost instantly. The rain smelled of water and life, and she caught the scent of earth from the mud beneath her feet.
She reached the revolving door, pushed through it, and stepped onto the bank lobby’s marble tile. Water dripped into a pool around her feet, and she winced at the mess she was making.
Lank, wet hair hung around her cheeks, and she pushed it away from her face. She tasted the rain on her lips.
Behind her, chill air flooded the lobby, along with the sound of the downpour and the sweet scent of the rain. She glanced over her shoulder and smiled at the sight of Tyson coming through the revolving door, water dripping off his western hat, and she faced him.
His firm lips curved into a grin. “Fancy meeting you here, hon.” He swept her into his arms, rain-drenched and all, and kissed her firmly.
She laughed as they parted. “You’d think we hadn’t just seen each other last night.” He’d dropped her off close to midnight when they’d returned from Tombstone.
He leaned in, his lips close to her ear, his tone rough like gravel in a box. “I can’t get enough of you.”
His lips met hers again, and she felt swept away in the rush of emotion and desire.
He pulled away and smiled down at her. “Either we stop or take this back to my ranch?”
She blinked, her mind muddled. “What?”
“Probably not a good idea in a bank lobby,” he said with sexy grin.
Heat crept up her neck. “I think you have a point.”
They walked past the blood-red upholstered chairs to the teller’s window. The teller, Helen, whom Haylee had known since she was a kid, cashed Haylee’s check, counted out the bills, and slid it to her with a smile.
Haylee took deep, even breaths to try to cool down, yet her body remained heated, and she wished she was alone with Tyson. Their time this weekend hadn’t been nearly enough.
Haylee stepped away as Tyson took his turn with the teller, and she caught the smell of the bank’s industrial cleaners. She looked out the big picture window as she waited for him. A van had pulled up in front of the bank’s door, and she heard the sound of the vehicle’s door sliding open.
“All done here.” A big hand rested on her shoulder, and she looked up at Tyson and smiled as air rushed in again from the revolving door, chilling her skin.
“I’m ready.” She tipped her head to the side. “What do you say to?—”
“Everyone down on the floor,” a male voice shouted behind them.
Her heart jumped into her throat as Tyson took her to the floor, his arm draped protectively over her.
Haylee’s mind stuttered, not fully able to process what was happening. A bank robbery? Here?
Footsteps echoed on the marble, and her pulse throbbed faster. Tyson held her tighter, and she knew at that moment that he would put himself in danger to protect her. Icy cold spread over her skin at that thought.
A man stepped in front of them, a gun pointed at her head. Haylee swallowed hard and shuddered as she took in his menacing frame. He was stout and muscular, and the stocking over his face couldn’t disguise his thick beard. His jeans were rumpled and dirty.
Haylee stiffened—she’d never been so scared in her life. She didn’t know what any of these men were capable of, but if they were willing to risk anything for this heist, they might be okay with murder, too.
He waved the gun in their faces, and she smelled his bad body odor as he shouted like a snarling wolf. “Get over there and put your backs against the wall.”
Tyson took Haylee by her arm and led her to the wall. Her knees buckled from fear, Tyson barely keeping her from falling. He helped her sit and settled next to her. He focused on the three men robbing the bank with a hard glint in his eyes.
Haylee watched in horror, and her stomach cramped as the robber ordered the other man and three women against the wall.
A second robber, who wasn’t as burly as the first, marched the three tellers into the lobby and pushed them against the wall, yelling at them to sit down.
He turned back to the first robber and spoke in a strange tone, like he was trying to disguise his voice. “He’s got the manager opening the safe.”
The first robber told the second one, “Tie them up. We’re going to get into the safe.”
The second robber gave a nod, and an odd feeling passed through Haylee as the man reached them. Something about how he moved, and his solid, athletic build seemed familiar. Even with the stocking over his face, she was certain she knew him, but she wasn’t sure of exactly who he was.
He tossed a pair of zip ties to Haylee, and she caught them before they could hit her in the face. He spoke deeper, like he was trying even harder to keep them from knowing who he was.
The robber gestured to Tyson with his gun. “Cuff him and then yourself.”
The moment he’d spoken again, even though he’d tried to keep her from recognizing him, she knew exactly who it was—Clint Taylor.
She wasn’t sure if she should be afraid or just pissed. On the one hand, she didn’t think he was the murdering type, but on the other, he might want to shoot Tyson out of jealousy and kill her to keep his identity a secret.
“Hurry up,” Clint said in an angry but still disguised tone. “I’ll kill you both if you don’t do what I say.” Even from where she sat, she caught his reek of stale cigarettes and beer that made her want to gag. He must have spent the night drinking and smoking.
In the past, Haylee had wondered what she’d ever seen in Clint. Now, she had no idea how she had missed an element of the man willing to do something so vile.
She turned to Tyson, her hands shaking from adrenaline. Her body was cold from her soaked clothing as well as fear.
Tyson mouthed, “It will be okay.”
In that instant, she knew what he was really saying. “I willmake everything okay.”
Fear iced her veins, and she could taste the fear on her tongue. She shook her head. “No,” she whispered. He would play hero again and might get himself killed.
“Hurry up.” Clint prodded her backside with his boot and pressed the barrel of his gun to the back of her head.
Haylee froze at the feel of the cold steel, and a shiver ran through her.
She bound Tyson’s wrists as tight as she could to keep him from doing something stupid, then turned her back to the wall again and put her wrists out for Clint to bind.
She sat and glared up at Clint as he cuffed her, biting her tongue to keep from saying anything and revealing she knew who he was.
Clint moved on to the following four people and the three tellers, his boots hitting the floor with dull thuds, zip ties hanging out of his back pocket.
He pulled out some and tossed them to one of the women and had her bind the others. One woman whimpered, and the man begged for their lives.
Clint growled low in his throat and stood menacingly over them, his back to Haylee and Tyson. “Shut the hell up.”
In the background, Haylee heard the other two robbers shouting at each other, their voices muffled, like they came from a different room.
Haylee turned to Tyson, and to her horror, he held his hands at his abdomen, jerked his wrists apart, and snapped the zip tie.
A flash of the night when she had been told of Danny’s death flashed through her mind. God, she couldn’t lose Tyson to danger like she’d lost Danny.
She shook her head violently and mouthed, “No. Don’t.”
He looked away and eased to his feet.
Tyson clenched his jaw, scenarios running through his mind. Adrenaline pumped through his veins as he crept slowly and moved behind the robber who had been holding them at gunpoint. He was close enough to smell the stink of the man’s sweat, sour like a wet dog kept in a car.
With a lunge, Tyson tackled the bastard and drove him to the floor.
The man’s chin struck the marble hard, stunning him, and the handgun fell out of his grasp. The weapon clattered on the tile and spun away.
Gripping the robber’s collar, Tyson jerked the man around and slammed his fist into his jaw.
The robber went slack and dropped. His head bounced on the marble floor that reflected the fluorescent lights of the ceiling. Tyson jerked a zip tie from the man’s back pocket and quickly bound his wrists. The robber’s skin was slick with sweat.
Tyson turned to the other hostages and put his finger to his lips, meeting their gazes, including Haylee. The man and the women, still looking terrified, nodded.
Haylee’s gaze reflected anger and fear. He knew she was upset with him for risking his life, but he couldn’t sit back and do nothing. He had to protect her.
He retrieved the robber’s gun, the grip rough and warm from being held by the robber. He raised the bar between the teller area and the door to the back room.
Tyson eased around the doorframe, just enough to see the open vault to the left and the manager bound hand and foot on the floor on the right. Her eyes widened when she saw Tyson, but he put his fingers to his lips again, and she nodded.
The robbers were in the vault, talking to each other. “Hurry up,” one of the men growled. “The police will be here soon.”
Tyson moved into the room, the air smelling of dust and lingering coffee. He kept his back against the wall, easing his way to the massive safe door.
With all his strength, he flung himself at the heavy door. He slammed it shut with a solid thunk and spun the dial. He glanced at the manager, who went slack with relief. He used his pocketknife to cut her bonds, then slid the knife back into his pocket.
Police sirens were deafening outside, and tires squealed as they skidded in the street.
With the manager walking wobbly beside him, Tyson returned to the lobby. He set the handgun onto a teller’s window so that he wouldn’t be holding a weapon when the police charged in.
Tyson returned to Haylee, sat beside her, and pulled out his pocketknife.
She held out her wrists for him to cut her ties, her face bright pink. Both relief at seeing him alive, followed by anger, flared in her eyes. “Were you out of your mind? What happened?”
Sweat rolled down the back of his neck as adrenaline still flowed inside him, and he sliced through her zip tie. “They’re safely shut in the vault.”
She sagged against the wall and blew out her breath. “Thank God.” Then she narrowed her gaze. “You could have gotten killed. Hell, you could have gotten any one of us killed.”
He studied her expression, which told him how upset she was. “Everything’s fine, Haylee. Let me cut everyone’s ties.”
She snapped her teeth shut and looked at her hands. He moved to each person, sliced through their bonds, and slid his knife into his pocket.
As the last person’s ties were cut, the police rushed through the glass doors to the sides of the revolving door on the floor, still wet from the rain dripping off their clothing.
The officers shouted for everyone to raise their hands, guns drawn. Tyson put his hands up, the others following his lead.
The place was filled with the sound of crackling radios and shouts from police as they surveyed the scene.
A lieutenant named George Valdez spotted then beckoned to Tyson. He’d gone to school with George, and he lowered his hands and got to his feet to meet his old friend in the middle of the lobby.
Tyson spelled out all the details, and Lieutenant Valdez told three of his officers to check the vault and that the two suspects secured inside were armed.
As Valdez walked away to process the scene, the weight of the events of the last few minutes washed over him. Haylee thought he had acted recklessly, but he’d been an MP in the service, so he had training. He couldn’t sit back and do nothing while people’s lives were in danger.
An officer marched the robber that Tyson had decked toward the front door. The man’s stocking had been removed from his head. Recognition stunned Tyson. Clint Taylor bowed his head as he shuffled past.
Tyson’s gut tightened when he spotted Haylee in the lobby, where the hostages were being processed. She could have been killed, and he would never have forgiven himself for letting her get hurt.
Had she recognized Taylor? Was that why she hadn’t seemed more concerned about her safety?
The police officers came out of the back, leading the two robbers away in handcuffs, the stockings removed from their heads. He recognized one of the men who had been in the back of the truck that had almost mowed down the older man in the parking lot at the barn dance. Taylor had gotten caught up with some real bad guys.
As the commotion died, Tyson hurried toward Haylee, dodging officers and equipment. She still sat on the floor, her drying hair falling across her cheeks, her eyes brimming with emotions he couldn’t identify.
He crouched in front of her. “I know you think I should have stayed back and waited it out.” He added quietly, “I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t let them hurt you.”
“You probably saved all our lives, so we owe you our thanks.” Tears rolled down her cheeks as she spoke. “But you could have been killed.”
Her throat worked and she went on before he could say anything. “I can’t be with someone who plays hero and puts his life at risk.” Her eyes now looked distant, like he had already lost her. “No, not again. Never again.”
“Haylee, wait.” His gut clenched as she got to her feet. She ignored the hand he offered her.
She brushed off the seat of her jeans, giving him one last sad look through her tears. “Goodbye, Tyson.”
He touched her arm. “Please, wait.”
She hesitated, not looking back at him. “Never again,” she said quietly, then walked away.
He stared after her, feeling helpless. How had it all gone so terribly wrong?