Chapter 3 #2
In the moment it takes for me to recognize him, Simmons realizes he’s given himself away. He hisses out a low curse, then turns the gun on me. His shadowed eyes narrow. “So you figured it out, huh?”
“This is a bad idea,” I tell him calmly, trying to ignore the jumping nerves in my stomach.
A random attacker was one thing. But one who has a vendetta against me is different. More dangerous. And if he thinks Hollis is my date, that she’s important to me… in his screwed up mind, he might think that hurting her—killing her—might settle the score.
Shit.
There’s no time to wait.
“Hah!” he chortles. “Kind of ironic, isn’t it?
You send me to jail for disciplining my girlfriend, and now I see you’ve done the same?
Realized smacking your woman around is the only way to control her, huh?
” He takes another step closer, his gun still pointed at Hollis.
“Little late now, isn’t it? Considering you already fucked with my life. ”
Hollis sucks in a sharp breath. Her skin pales. But she holds herself still.
Shit. I need to get the gun on me. I can’t risk it going off when it’s still aimed at her.
“Imagine my luck,” he continues. “I’m leaving the bar, and there you are.
The douchebag cop who sent me to jail and tricked Ellen into leaving me.
I wasn’t sure what I was going to do about it until I remembered my buddy’s gun.
Unregistered, of course.” He smirks. “I’m not as stupid as you think I am. ”
“I don’t think you’re stupid,” I reply. “But you know what I do think?”
His brow furrows. “What?”
“I think you have that pointed at the wrong person. I’m the one you have a beef with. Not her.”
There’s a brief pause. Then Simmons bares his teeth in a rictus of a grin. “No. I think this is perfect. Random robbery goes bad, ex-cop and his girlfriend are killed, and the rest of the customers have no idea who did it. Plus. I’ll get to walk away with some cash. Sounds like a great plan to me.”
It does?
“Hey!” he abruptly shouts. “I can hear you guys moving. Don’t think you’re going anywhere! Just sit your asses down. If you do what I say, you might make it out alive.”
“Shoot me first, then,” I say, holding his gaze. “Be a man about it. Shooting a woman first is the cowardly thing to do.”
Shooting a woman at all is cowardly, really. But semantics don’t really matter right now.
“You calling me a coward?” Simmons snarls. “You fucking last seven years in prison and then you can talk to me about being a fucking coward.”
And then, just as I hoped, the barrel of his gun drifts towards me.
“A fucking coward?” he repeats. “That’s some fucking nerve. You’re the coward!”
In some things, I was.
I was a coward when I fled Utica.
I was a coward when it came to relationships.
And for a long time, I was afraid to trust anyone.
Now?
There’s nothing I won’t do to keep Hollis safe.
“You look like a coward to me,” I tell him. “Threatening two innocent women? An old man? Because you have some screwed up grudge against me? What else can you call yourself?”
Under the table, I tap Hollis’s leg with my foot. A second later, she does the same.
Some of the pressure on my chest eases.
She understands what to do.
“How dare you?” Simmons roars. “I’m not a fucking coward!”
His finger tightens on the trigger.
It’s time.
Very intentionally, I look over his shoulder. I arrange my face into a mask of surprise.
His face clouds with confusion. Worry. Fear.
There’s nothing there, really. Just a line of empty booths set with rolls of silverware.
But he doesn’t know that.
And what I hoped for happens.
Simmons turns his head as he follows my gaze.
His gun is still aimed at me, but his attention isn’t all there.
Then.
I move.
My thoughts shift aside as muscle memory and training kick in.
First, I grab his wrist and twist it hard, angling his gun to the floor.
A second later, I jump up from my seat. My leg snaps out in a sweeping motion, hitting Simmons just below the knees.
With a tremendous wrench, I yank the gun from his hand.
Something pops in his wrist, and he yowls in pain.
His knees buckle.
Then I’m on him, pinning his hands behind his back, using my weight to help subdue him.
But it’s not over yet.
Simmons is still spitting curses and wriggling beneath me, and with the gun in one hand, it’ll be hard to restrain him.
“Here.” A fabric apron appears beside me. And holding it, Hollis, who’s very much not under the table. “You can use this,” she says. “The strings are really long. So if you wrap them around enough times…”
Then she does something even braver.
With only a small hesitation, she asks, “Do you want me to tie him up? So you can keep the gun on him?”
“I can help.” It’s the owner, hovering above me. Guilt is etched into his features. “I’m so sorry I didn’t help before. But my grandkids…” He grimaces. “I used to hunt. Deer, mostly. But I can handle a handgun. If you want me to hold it for you.”
While I’m loath to hand it over to anyone, I can see the value in his offer. And while I don’t doubt Hollis would pull the trigger if she had to, I don’t want to put that on her. So I hold out the gun to the owner as I say, “Thanks. And if we could get someone to call the police?”
“I’m doing it now,” the waitress replies. Her voice is still thick with tears. She’s kneeling on the floor by her discarded phone, attempting to make the call with shaking hands.
As I’m tying Simmons up, Hollis darts away, returning a few seconds later with another apron. “For his feet,” she offers. “So you can be sure he won’t get away.”
It feels like a giant hand is inside my chest, squeezing.
Surviving an attempted robbery slash murder attempt should not be romantic.
But somehow, it is.
Or at least, everything about Hollis makes it that way.
And as I look up at her, taking in her determined expression and the stubborn jut of her chin, I just know she’s the perfect woman for me.
Brave. Smart. Caring. Unflappable. Incredible.
And did I mention beautiful, as well?
Once I have Simmons thoroughly restrained, I get back to my feet again.
Hollis rushes at me, flinging her arms around me and hugging me hard.
“Oh, Dave,” she whispers against my neck, for the first time since this all started sounding close to tears. “I was so worried he would shoot you.”
I stroke my hand down the length of her hair, finding it just as soft as I thought it would be. Without thinking, I press my lips to the top of her head, breathing in the faint scent of rose and vanilla. “It’s okay,” I croon. “Everything is going to be fine.”
Her head pops up, nearly smacking me in the chin. “I know it’s okay. Because you did something crazy. You pissed him off. Made him point the gun at you. He could have—”
“But he didn’t.”
And the unsaid part. Better me than you.
“Dave.” Hollis sighs. Her eyes close for a second. When they reopen, she looks at me with a depth of emotion. “I know we just met. But if anything had happened to you…”
“I know.” I hug her close to my chest. “I feel the same way.”
In the distance, blaring sirens approach. The waitress sniffs before announcing unnecessarily, “The police are on the way.”
I know in a matter of minutes, chaos is about to erupt again. The police will arrive with weapons drawn, and once Simmons is taken away, we’ll spend hours going over everything. The blissful moments of before—when it was just me and Hollis, exploring this intense connection between us—are over.
But.
Right now, there’s a weird sort of peace.
Hollis is safe in my arms. And holding her is even better than I could have imagined.
Though it’s probably the worst time to say it, I can’t seem to help myself. “Hollis. Will you go out with me?”
She blinks. “What?”
“Go on a date with me. I’ve got some vacation time coming, so I can stay in Utica for a few days longer. We could have dinner, see a movie, go hiking, whatever you want.”
As I wait for her answer, insecurity creeps in.
What if I’m so out of practice with relationships, I read this all wrong?
What if this connection is all one-sided?
What if I end up rejected again?
“Yes.” Hollis smiles at me, and my chest unclenches. “I would really like that. My boss told me to take a few days off, too. So we could—” A faint pink touches her cheeks. “Maybe we could go on a few dates? Instead of just one?”
I spare a quick glance at Simmons, who’s still hogtied and blessedly silent. A feat that might be helped by Carlo aiming the gun at him and intermittently growling, “You try to rob my restaurant? Threaten my customers? Just try me. I’ll be glad for a reason to shoot you.”
“A few dates would be amazing,” I tell her. “And I—”
But the police come swarming through the door, interrupting me.
In the flurry of activity that follows, I make sure to keep Hollis by my side. Not because I think anyone will hurt her—not once Simmons is securely cuffed and loaded into a patrol car—but because I can’t bear to be separated from her.
Is it crazy to feel this strongly about someone I just met?
Maybe.
Do I care?
Not in the least.
As the police approach us, notepads out and with questioning expressions, I catch the eye of Kyle, one of the few friendly faces I remember from my time on the force. “Just give us a minute,” I tell him with a lift of my chin. “I need to talk to Hollis for a second.”
He stares at me for a second, then gives me a quick nod. “Sure. We’ll start with the others.”
Once he moves on, I turn to Hollis. I take her hands in mine.
With a little smile, she says, “We can talk about the dates later. After these guys are gone.”
“I know.” Holding her gaze, I add, “But there’s something I need to do first. I hope you don’t mind.”
Interest lights her eyes. “What do you need to do?”
Cupping her nape with one hand, I gently pull her towards me.
As we come together, I keep my eyes on her face, memorizing everything.
Her gorgeous eyes, the shade of dark chocolate and caramel.
The sweet flush of her cheeks.
How her rosy lips part, almost in expectation.
And the most magical of all—how she looks at me like I’m the only man in the world for her. Like she might feel as strongly for me as I do for her.
On a soft breath, we kiss.
At first it’s slow. Tender. A cautious exploration.
I stroke my tongue along the seam of her lips, just teasing, but not yet dipping in.
Hollis clutches my neck, holding me to her.
Then she’s the one to take things deeper.
Our tongues move together, stroking and tasting. Our kiss shifts from gentle to passionate.
A low moan sounds in the back of her throat, and it’s the sexiest sound I’ve ever heard.
As Hollis clings to me, her nipples pebble into hard peaks, brushing temptingly against my chest.
Desire surges. I feel myself hardening, jutting insistently into her belly.
The logical part of my brain scolds, Stop. This is not the place.
But my heart tells me the opposite.
That I could have lost Hollis tonight. That I might never have found out if she’s the one, like my friends have found.
So I keep kissing her, reveling in a connection like nothing I’ve felt before.
We only break apart when our lungs are bursting, and I mentally curse my need to breathe.
Hollis stares up at me with sparkling eyes and kiss-swollen lips. Her pulse flutters at the base of her jaw. “Dave.”
“I know it’s the wrong time,” I start. “But I just… I had to. I hope that’s okay.”
Like the sun rising, her smile brightens her face. “Oh, Dave. It was perfect. And once we get out of here, I can’t wait to do it again.”
“Hollis.” Just one word, but it means everything. “Neither can I.”