Chapter 1
SOLAE
“Have a great day, Mr. Peterson,” I said with my best customer service smile as I slid his receipt across the counter. As soon as he walked off, I called, “Next!”
And that’s when I saw Priest.
I instantly felt butterflies in my stomach.
My fingers started instinctively smoothing my pixie-cut blonde hair.
I could feel my pulse in my ears. This man had no business looking that good.
He was tall with broad shoulders that stretched the sleeves of a hoodie.
His tan skin caught the light and his colorful tattoos peeked up from his collar.
That perfectly groomed beard framed a face so fine, I wanted it to be my permanent seat.
And that slow, confident walk full of swag gave big dick energy in motion.
Priest came to the bank too often for my heart to take it. And because I usually handled his transactions, I knew exactly what was sitting pretty in his accounts. He was self-employed, according to his files. But he was a street nigga, according to my common sense.
“What’s up, beautiful?” His deep voice rolled over me like honey as he stepped up to my window, leaning in just enough to close the space between us. As he slid his withdraw slip through the window, his lips curved into that sinful smile that always ruined my concentration.
I tried so hard not to blush. “Hello, Priest. What can I do for you today?”
“You could give me your number. Or…” He grinned wider as his eyes raked over me in a way that made my thighs press together on the other side of the counter. “…you could finally say yes to me seeing you outside of this bank.”
I bit back a giggle while I processed his withdrawal. “You never quit, do you?”
“Not when it comes to you.” He was so smooth and cocky, like he already knew I’d fold one day.
“I told you that I have a man.”
“And I already told you that it’s something about you that makes me not care about that nigga.”
Blushing, I counted out his cash with the money counter and then slid it across the counter.
“Well, I care about him,” I told Priest, while reminding myself why I couldn’t fold. As fine as Priest was, I was committed to Rah and had no reason to fall victim to Priest’s beauty.
Still, when his fingertips brushed mine as he took the bills, as much as they could through the window, a shiver danced up my arm.
“Thank you,” he said, dragging his gaze over me one last time. “Are you sure I can’t feed you?”
I rolled my eyes, trying not to smile as I motioned toward the long line behind him. “Go, Priest. People have been waiting a long time.”
A smile slowly spread to each ear, teasing me with those perfect white teeth. “Alright, Solae. But I’ll see you soon.”
Thankfully, he backed away, so I could breathe again, but he kept throwing me those lingering stares and licking his lips like he knew damn well what he was doing to me.
I took a deep breath, forced myself to focus and called the next customer.
There was always an afternoon rush at the bank on a Friday afternoon.
It was always swarming with customers who’d just gotten paid and needed to make their transactions before the weekend.
But this rush was especially hectic because it was only three weeks before Christmas.
“Welcome to Chase. How may I help you?”
I didn’t even look up as I closed out the previous transaction while the new customer approached the teller window.
I was exhausted. I had worked six days straight.
I had been juggling my role as a bank customer service manager while also stepping in as a teller because of the constant staffing issues.
The holiday rush only made it worse. There had been endless lines, impatient customers, and no real break to breathe.
Rah, my fiancé, had been busy with his hustle and in the studio.
He hadn’t been able to help much around the house with the kids lately.
Rah and I had two kids. Essence and Elijah were thirteen and ten years old and were a complete handful. One would think that since I was only twenty–seven that I would have the energy to keep up with them. Yet, the holiday hours and running around with the kids had me beat.
Not to mention, on top of all of that, I was about eight weeks pregnant.
When the customer was taking too long to respond, I discreetly drew in a heavy breath and looked up, staring down the barrel of a nine-millimeter.
I gasped but remained still. Though there was a teller window between us, the gunman had stuck his slim arm through the circular opening, pointing the gun at middle of my forehead.
Too scared to move, my eyes darted from left to right.
A few of the bankers were still working on transactions, oblivious to what was happening.
A few of the customers had noticed, however.
It felt like minutes, but it was only seconds before screams began to fill the air of the small bank on 35th and King Drive.
“Nobody move!” The voice was coming from near the front entrance.
My eyes darted in that direction. Carl, the security guard, was being held in a headlock by a tall, heavy-set guy.
Like the guy in front of me, his head was covered with a hood.
Every time he moved frantically, wildly waving a gun at the crowd with his other arm, I could vaguely see his eyes.
My own darted towards the baritone voice behind the beady discolored eyes of the guy pointing death right at me.
The guy at the door barked, “Hit the mothafuckin’ floor!”
And everyone did. Like robots, approximately fifteen men, women, and children hit the floor in the lobby, as well as the tellers next to me.
The guy pointing the gun at me started shouting orders at me, “Gimme everything!”
I couldn’t believe this was happening.
“Now, bitch!”
When I saw his finger become much more intimate with that trigger, I moved like a cheetah. I didn’t think twice. I wasn’t about to lose my life trying to save somebody else’s money. This motherfucker could have had whatever he wanted.
“Everything! The other drawers too.” He fussed orders at me, but he didn’t have to tell me twice. I went from drawer to drawer, opening them and grabbing cash.
By this time, his partner had forced the security guard, Carl, to enter the necessary code to let him into the back with the tellers. Carl was sixty-three years young; too old to fight off a 6’4” oversized, aggressive man holding a Glock.
Everything moved so fast, but I did whatever they told me to. All of the customers were able to run out of the bank since both of the robbers were in the back with us.
Three minutes went by slowly like three years. Yet, by that time, the gunmen were running out of the security door and back into the lobby, with a garbage bag full of cash.
As I watched them sprint toward the exit, relief left my body with such force that I leaned against the counter and held my head in my hands.
I forced myself to shake off the shock, but my fingers trembled as I slammed my palm against the alarm button mounted beside my window.
Just as I felt relief, a gunshot pierced the air.
We all screamed, and I hit the floor just as two more shots rang out.
Then I could hear the burglars barging out of the bank.
My heart was in my throat.
Suddenly, more gunshots rang out, but they sounded like they were outside. Still, me and the other tellers took cover while screaming and praying.
Then… nothing.
An eerie, suffocating silence filled the room, the kind that made your skin crawl.
Then I heard someone coming back into the bank. There were hurried footsteps. And then a deep, familiar voice called my name.
It was Priest.
“Priest!” I shrieked as I let out a relieved breath.
Though we knew that the gunmen were gone, we all cautiously stood to our feet to make sure.
We ran from behind the counter but froze when we saw Priest kneeling beside Carl. Moans of a dying man pierced through the silence. The only noise heard in the bank was that of Carl, gurgling moans and gasping for air as blood seeped from his chest.
We all panicked.
“Oh my God!”
“Jesus!”
“Carl!!”
I ran over and knelt beside Priest. I noticed the gun in his hand and the way his chest rose and fell with hard, heavy breaths.
I knew he’d been shooting at the robbers outside.
And that did something to me. A wave of heat curled in my belly.
It was completely inappropriate in the middle of this chaos.
I forced myself to shove the feeling down and focused on Carl.
He lay on the ground with his gun still in his hand.
He had two shots to the chest. Blood flowed through his brown uniform.
Slowly, the other banking staff began to casually emerge from behind closed doors and cubicles.
We were all losing our minds as we closed in on Carl.
We were people of different ages and backgrounds, but none of us were capable of saving Carl.
We kneeled next to him, holding his hand.
Priest put pressure on the wound. Carl moaned, groaned, and coughed up blood before he began to slowly lose consciousness.
“No, Carl! C’mon! Don’t you die on us,” Mrs. Johnson said to him as she started to pray.
Unfortunately, it was all to no avail. We watched him take his last breath just as we heard sirens approaching.
“I know you’ve been through a lot. But as soon as we ask you some questions, you can leave. Just please be patient with us,” the officer told us.
I inwardly blew a frustrated breath as I turned away from him and right into Priest’s watchful gaze.
“You don’t have to stay,” I told him. “I’m fine now.”
He cocked his head slightly, with that idle grin on his lips. “You don’t look fine to me.”
“I mean… I’ll be okay. You can go.”
Priest’s eyes swept over me before coming back to mine. “Nah, I’m not leaving you here. Not after what just happened. I’m staying ‘til I know for sure you’re good.”
Something about the way he said it, like it wasn’t a suggestion, sent a scolding shiver down my spine.