Chapter 14 #2
Seeing he was early, Truck put his car in park and picked up his phone. He called Ghost.
“Hey, Truck. How’re you?”
“Good. I have a question.”
“Shoot.”
“Was the French diplomat’s daughter okay? And the other girls?”
There was silence on the other end of the line for a second before Ghost said, “You remember.”
“Not all of it. Just bits and pieces. I do remember we were specifically looking for that little girl, but that there were lots of others who needed rescuing too.”
“There were. She’s okay.”
“How many did we lose?” Truck asked.
“Three.”
“Damn.”
“What else do you remember?” Ghost asked.
“Most of it is a big jumble in my brain at the moment,” Truck admitted. “Flashes here and there that don’t make much sense, but I’m confident it’s just a matter of time before it all comes back.”
“Thank fuck,” Ghost said.
“Yeah. So…you guys were all pissed at me for marrying Mary, huh?”
“You remember that?”
“Not the being pissed part, but the marriage, yes.” It was a little lie. Truck didn’t actually remember the ceremony yet, and he’d had to find out about it from Mary’s journal, but that didn’t matter.
“That’s awesome. You call the doc yet?”
“No, but I will after lunch. I’m here at the bank with Mary. Ghost, I hope like hell you’re all really okay with my marriage to Mary, because I love her. I’m not giving her up. She’s going to be in my life for a really fucking long time, and you all need to be okay with that.”
“We’re more than okay with it,” Ghost reassured him immediately.
“Good.”
“She know you remember?” Ghost asked tentatively.
“No. But I’m gonna remedy that as soon as I can. I want to talk to the doctor first and hear what he says. Then I’ll have a chat with my wife tonight when she gets off work.”
“You do that,” Ghost said, and Truck could almost hear the grin in his tone. “Good to have you back, Truck.”
“Not all the way back yet,” Truck warned.
“But you will be.”
“Yeah. I understand Fletch wants to have a thing at his house this weekend?”
“Yup. He’s bringing Emily and their baby home on Thursday. Emily insisted on having a small get-together—her words—on Saturday so they could share what they named their son.”
“What’s wrong with a text?” Truck grumbled.
Ghost chuckled. “What Emily wants, Emily gets,” he quipped.
Truck could totally understand that. He’d give Mary the world if she asked. “Okay, I need to get inside. Mary only has thirty minutes for lunch. Oh, and she’s gonna need to find another job.”
“Why?”
“The bank is reorganizing. Getting rid of tellers and going to machines.”
“That’s stupid.”
“Agreed. Anyway, I’d appreciate it if you kept your ears open for something that she might be interested in.”
“Will do. Can I tell Rayne?”
Truck hesitated, then said, “Maybe not yet. I’m sure Mary will tell her, but I’d rather she not have something else to be pissed at me about.”
Ghost laughed. “She’s always pissed at you, Trucker, adding one more thing won’t matter.”
Truck snorted. “Ain’t that the truth. But she’s so fun to piss off. She doesn’t act like most women, she gets right in my face and tells me off. Weirdly enough, I like it.”
“Obviously.”
“Seriously, I always know exactly what she’s thinking. It’s refreshing. She’s not scared of me at all. Which, because of my size and looks, is a fucking miracle as far as I’m concerned.”
“I can see how that could be a good thing.”
“It is. Of course, I’d never do anything to hurt her…and she knows it. Makes it hard to get her to do what I want and need her to do, to keep her safe. And now I really need to go. I don’t want to miss a minute of our lunchtime.”
“You’ll call after you talk to the doctor?”
“Yup. Later, Ghost.”
“Later, Truck.”
Truck clicked off his phone and stuck it in his back pocket. Then he grabbed the two lunch bags he’d packed back at his apartment and climbed out of his car and headed for the entrance.
He opened the door and stepped inside the bank—right into the middle of complete chaos.
The second the five men came into the lobby of the bank, Mary knew they were in trouble. All her warnings had gone unheeded by Jennifer and now it was time to pay the price.
The men were dressed in jeans and T-shirts and none had coverings over their faces, which didn’t bode well in Mary’s mind.
They should’ve been worried about concealing their identities.
The fact that they weren’t was a bad sign.
She recognized three of the men from giving them tours of the vault, but the other two were strangers.
All five men were white, and she could see they had tattoos up and down their arms.
She should’ve been freaking out, but Mary was strangely calm. She and the other employees had trained for situations like this, and while she was scared, Mary wasn’t about to do anything that would put her life, or anyone else’s life, in danger.
Three of the men branched off and immediately began to corral the customers and employees. The other two came up to the counter where she and Rebecca were sitting and pointed pistols right in their faces.
“Up, bitches,” one said.
Mary immediately held her hands in the air, making sure both men could clearly see them.
She scooted off the chair she’d been sitting on and stood.
While one man held them at gunpoint, the other leaped over the counter, knocking off the odds and ends that had been on the surface.
Mary could hear Rebecca sniffing as if she was crying, but she didn’t take her eyes from the man in front of her.
“We meet again,” he sneered as he stared at her.
Mary’s chin went up. She wasn’t going to cower to anyone. She’d already faced down death twice and won. No punk-ass kid was going to make her break now.
Mary knew she’d have to work really hard to hold her tongue and not antagonize the men though. She might be able to harangue and be a bitch to Truck and his friends, but that was only because she knew they wouldn’t hurt her…because they were honorable, good men.
These guys? She instinctively knew they wouldn’t hesitate to put a bullet into her. She’d seen a lot of men and boys just like them growing up. They’d been taught to think women were beneath them, and any attempts to show them they were wrong were met with swift and immediate retribution.
“Get the keys to the vault, bitch,” the one boy sneered.
Mary didn’t think he was much older than eighteen, if that. She nodded to a drawer at the end of the counter. “They’re in there,” she told him.
“Then get them,” he spat impatiently.
“I didn’t want you to think I was reaching for a weapon or a secret panic button,” Mary said calmly, even though inside she was anything but calm.
“I don’t care if you do or not, I’ll blow your ass away before you can try anything. Now hurry the fuck up,” he growled.
Mary shivered, but hurried to do what he wanted.
She vaguely heard others around her crying and the thugs yelling, but she was focused on her task.
Once she had the keys in her hand, the man grabbed her arm and forced her toward the back.
The other herded Rebecca into an office with the other hostages.
Mary didn’t like that she was separated from everyone, but she tried to keep herself calm.
Just as they were about to go into the vault, the last place she wanted to be alone with a gun-wielding gang member, the door to the bank opened.
She turned to see who had entered—and stared in shock as Truck walked into the bank.
She glanced at the clock. Eleven twenty-six. He was right on time for their lunch together. Dammit.
“Truck.” His name came out involuntarily, and the second it did, she winced.
“Get your hands up!” one of the gang members yelled, and Truck immediately did as ordered. Two brown paper bags dropped at his feet as he complied.
“Who the fuck didn’t lock the door?” one of the men yelled.
“Snake was supposed to.”
“Shut the fuck up, Grass,” snarled the man Mary guessed was Snake.
“Both of you shut the fuck up!” the man holding Mary’s arm yelled. Then he turned and shouted, “Jennifer, lock the door!”
Mary stiffened. Jennifer? He knew her?
Before she could fully process the implications, the man holding her arm asked, “You know him?”
Mary was afraid to say yes, so she said nothing at all. That was apparently the wrong thing to do, because the man wrenched her arm up behind her back, and Mary couldn’t help the yelp that escaped. The pain was intense, and she went up on her tiptoes to try to take the pressure off her arm.
“I asked you a question, bitch.”
“He’s a customer,” she gasped.
“I don’t believe you,” the man holding her sneered, and tightened his hold on her arm. The pain was so intense, Mary couldn’t help but blurt out the truth. “Yes, I know him! He’s my boyfriend.”
“Nice,” the man drawled. “You, get your ass over here!” he yelled at Truck.
“Not sure that’s a good idea, Deuce.”
“Did I ask you, Fez? No.”
Mary tried to memorize the names the men were using, but it was hard to concentrate with her arm wrenched behind her like it was and with Truck’s pissed-off vibe hitting her.
“I’m here,” Truck said. “Let her go.”
“You shagging this bitch?” Deuce asked, yanking up on her arm as he asked.
Truck nodded once.
“You want to keep shagging this bitch?” he asked.
Truck nodded again.
“Good. You look strong. I’m gonna need you. But if you do anything I don’t like, I’m gonna put a bullet in her knee. Then her other knee. Then her fucking head. Got me?”
“Got you,” Truck said evenly.
Mary glanced up at his face and didn’t see one ounce of emotion. His lips were pressed together tightly and he didn’t so much as glance in her direction. All his attention was focused on the man holding her.