John began to pace, his agitation rising. Hannah, still seated with her hands tied in front of her, twisted her chair around and looked upward. “John,” she began softly, “you’ll still have me. Let’s get Gary out of here, and you still have some bargaining power. That will make it so much better for you.”
“I’m not letting anyone come in here to get him!”
“I’m sure Mr. Toombs will help us figure this out.” Hannah turned back to the phone. “Mr. Toombs? Were you able to hear that?”
“Please, call me Martin, and yes, I could hear that. Let’s come up with a plan, John. We can have someone stay out in the hall, and Hannah can push him through the door just enough so that someone can get their hands on them. That would be a perfect way to get Gary the help he needs and lets us get a little closer to resolving the issue.”
Resolving the issue? Hearing Martin so calmly refer to Hannah being held against her will sent shakes throughout Dylan’s body. His mind told him it was going the way it needed to, but his heart was beating out of his chest. It took all of his willpower to keep from rushing into the room, even without a weapon, and tearing John apart. One way or the other, if anyone was going to get close to Hannah, it was going to be him.
27
Hannah stared at John, her gaze assessing. She remembered from his driver’s license that he was twenty-three years old and yet had to admit he looked older. A dark scruff already covered his hard jaw. He was athletic, and while not overly large, she could see that he worked out. His face was interesting, with a slightly off-center nose, probably from previous breaks, and a scar that cut through his left eyebrow.
His short-sleeved shirt gave evidence to the mish-mash of tattoos covering his arms and hands. They appeared to be signs and symbols with no apparent connection of the markings and probably done at different times.
She thought back to the little bit of information she’d gathered from Alex and had no problem imagining that John was either born into the gang lifestyle or his early years had made the gang seem like family. And since he was high enough in the organization to be a transporter, she knew he was clean, and that meant he was smart. Smart enough to know what he needed to do to get what he wanted.
Turning her assessment inward, the initial adrenaline of her situation was wearing off, and she expected a shaky weakness to follow soon. Calling upon all her training and reserves, she remained calm and focused on steadying her breathing as well as her heartbeat.
“You don’t use.” The words slipped from her lips easily, and as soon as they were out, she wondered what his response would be.
He stopped pacing, his gaze now boring straight into her. “No. Users are weak.” Snorting, he shook his head. “What I do, I do for money. I do for respect. I do for my brothers.”
She nodded slowly. “I get that.” Seeing his sneer, she explained. “The brotherhood, I mean. We all want to belong somewhere.”
“Is that why you put on a fuckin’ ugly uniform every day? For the brothers in blue?”
Refusing to give in to his needling, she nodded. “Pretty much, yeah. Like I said, everyone wants to belong somewhere.”
He held her gaze for a long time and then turned to stare off into space. “I’m trusted. Out there. Last night was a fuck up that should never have happened.” He glanced back down at her and shook his head slowly, his lips curving down. “Couldn’t fuckin’ believe it when you jumped into the water. The pack was weighted. Never thought you had a chance gettin’ to it.”
He was no longer showing heightened anxiety, and uncertain if she should try to keep him talking or leave all the negotiations to Martin, she watched as John leaned against the counter.
Deciding to keep him talking, she said, “John, when we leave here, you can’t take Gary with us. So if he’s going to be left here anyway, then it would make sense for us to go ahead and let him get help.”
He stopped pacing and looked at her, indecision working behind his eyes as sweat dotted his brow.
She looked down at the unconscious guard, a pool of blood covering the floor. Pressing forward, she continued. “I’m tied up, and you can be right with me. We could just open the door, and I can kneel on the floor near Gary and push him out just enough so that someone else can get in.”
“It sounds like Hannah has a good plan,” Martin interjected. “John, do you think we can do that?”
“I don’t want any funny shit happening,” John bit out.
Hannah nodded her agreement. He’s giving in a little bit. “I just want to get Gary out of here.” John didn’t disagree, and not wanting to lose momentum, she pushed. “Martin? I think John agrees. Can you let us know how this will happen?”
She could hear the phone connection clicking and knew they’d taken her off speaker while they were deciding what they wanted to do.
“John, I think you and Hannah already have an excellent plan,” Martin said, coming back on.
Hannah had to admit she was impressed with Martin’s negotiating skills. His voice was calm, he continually called them by name, and now made it sound like the idea to get Gary to safety was part of John’s idea. Not wanting to seem overeager, she settled her expression as she waited to see what Martin would say and how John would react.
“Hannah is too small to be able to push Gary all the way into the hall—”
“I’m not letting her go out!” John shouted.
“I understand, John,” Martin said. “But she can open the door and push Gary enough that someone nearby will be able to grab his shoulders and pull him the rest of the way out.”
After a moment of quiet thinking, he declared, “I’ll be right next to her. My blade will be right next to her neck. I didn’t strike that shithead guard to kill him, but I’m good with a blade. And if anything happens that I don’t like, she’s dead.”
“We understand. You’re going to stay close to Hannah. Now, John, I want you to stay calm. Several things are going to be happening all at once and we want you calm because we don’t want anything untoward to happen to anybody, and that includes you. We want everyone coming out of this alive and well.”
As she eased off her chair and knelt onto the floor, she glanced at the gauze wrappings around her wrist and the knot Luke had tied. Shifting on her knees toward the unconscious Gary, she said, “John, I want to check on him.” She reached out and placed her fingertips on his pulse, glad that it was steady, albeit weak. “Okay, I’m going to maneuver him close to the door. Then I’ll reach up to the knob and open it. I’ll push Gary along on the floor, sliding until enough of him is in the hall that someone can pull him the rest of the way out.”
She never looked toward the camera in the corner of the ceiling, knowing they were being watched, but instead, spoke loudly. “Martin? I’m on the floor near Gary. He’s still bleeding some but not as much. His eyes are closed, but he has a pulse.”
“That’s good, Hannah. When you open the door, start pushing him out, and I’ll have one person nearby to grab him.”
“Only one!” John ordered.
“Agreed,” Martin said. “Only one.”
Now that John was once again nearby with the blade close to her throat, Hannah swallowed deeply, focusing on the task at hand and the task that needed to be accomplished. John wasn’t going to offer any assistance with his entire focus on the blade at her neck, so she heaved Gary’s heavy body close to the door, leaving a red trail along the tiled floor. It was difficult with her hands bound together and her knees sliding in Gary’s blood. When she finally managed to push the top of his head to the door, she stopped. She wiped her bloody hands on her pants in a misguided effort to get them clean and glanced up toward John.
He appeared twitchy again, but she carefully studied his position, wanting to know exactly where he was each second. Lifting her bound hands up, she turned the doorknob, feeling sweat trickle from underneath her arm and run down her side.
“Slowly. Do it slowly.”
Obeying the order that came d
irectly from the side of her, she inched the door open. Still on her hands and knees, she peered through the opening, uncertain what she would see. The hard tile floor gave little comfort but made it easier to slide the heavy burden of the unconscious body toward the doorway.
“Stop right there.”
Continuing to obey the order from behind, feeling the blade still against her neck, she managed to maneuver Gary’s head out slightly. There was no movement in the hallway. It was as though the world had gone completely still, her heartbeat the only sound and her chest heaving the only movement. She looked down at Gary’s face, his eyes blinking open in confusion, reminding her that time was of the essence. “I’ve got to move him out enough so they can get to him.” Not waiting on a reply, she moved to Gary’s shoulders and continued to push his prone body forward several more inches until the head was now in the hall.
With the knife now held against her lower back near her kidneys, she was still in danger. Keeping her hands out of John’s sight, she twisted her wrists and grabbed the end of the gauze knot, giving it a tug. The knot gave way, and still pushing Gary’s body on the floor, she wiggled her wrists enough to keep the gauze in sight while allowing her hands to have free movement.
The door opened further, and from the other side, hands moved forward, hooking under Gary’s armpits. His body slid further into the hall. Still on her hands and knees, Hannah lifted her gaze as a face appeared. Eyes bored into hers, so familiar. Lips that had so often been slightly turned upward in a smirk now pinched tight with anger. She wanted to lift her hand to cup his cheek in case she never got the opportunity to do so again. But the shifting stance of the man behind her stilled her hand. Instead, she hoped her eyes conveyed the depth of her love.
Another pair of hands appeared from the other side, and Gary was now completely dragged into the hallway. Hannah swallowed deeply, both in relief and in fear. She refused to look away from Dylan, not knowing if she would ever see his face again. Forcing her gaze to drop to her hands, she could tell when he realized they were no longer bound tightly.
As he held her eyes again, she stared as his mouth opened slightly and he mouthed, “You and me.” Knowing they had to work together, her lips curved ever so slightly.
With her hands still pressed together as though her wrists were bound, she scooted backward on her hands and knees.
“Close the door,” John ordered, moving away from her slightly as he stepped back into the room.
Shifting to a squat, she reached upward with both hands as though to reach for the doorknob, then whirled, her arms separating as the knot fell loose. She slammed her forearm against his. Unheeding the pain that radiated up her arm, she flipped to her back, sliding in the blood, and kicked out, catching him in the groin. He howled and dropped to his knees onto the floor next to her. She punched out again, knocking him backward.
Dylan launched into the room, flying over her body, tackling John. The men wrestled, but Dylan quickly landed on top as Hannah scrambled to her knees and yelled, “Clear!”
Suddenly the room was filled with guards, their weapons pointing at the men on the bloody floor. Hannah reached down to grab Dylan just as two of the guards rolled John over and cuffed him. Dylan stood, and ignoring the fact they were both in uniform, she rushed into his arms. He grabbed her shoulders and pushed her back slightly, his gaze scanning up and down.
“I’m okay. It’s not my blood.”
John was hauled upright, surrounded by guards. Colt walked in with the man whose voice she recognized as he greeted her.
“Martin?”
The barrel-chested man with the military haircut that screamed FBI smiled. “It’s good to meet you, Hannah. You did very well. You’re a credit to the uniform, Chief Freeman.”
“It’s nice to meet you, too. I know you know what you’re doing, sir, but I have to say that your voice calmed him down.” Chuckling, she added, “It also calmed me down.”
Colt looked at her and said, “Jesus, Hannah, you look like you’ve been in a slaughterhouse.”
She glanced down, seeing blood smeared all over her shirt, pants, hands, and arms. “It’s all Gary’s blood. I don’t know how badly he was hurt, but he bled a lot.”
“They’re taking him to the hospital. EMTs have already reported that he is awake and responding, so he should be okay.”
Frazier moved into the room and greeted her. “I’m going to need a full report from you, Chief Freeman. There will be an inquiry, and I need to know exactly what happened.”
Nodding she said, “I understand. I’m perfectly prepared to give it now, but I feel as though I need to clean up first. I only live ten minutes away. If you give me about forty-five minutes, I can be back here, and we can do the report then.”
“Are you sure? It can wait till tomorrow.”
“I’d rather do it today.”
He turned to Dylan and added, “Chief Hunt. Since you were in the room, I’ll need a report from you as well. Luke and Margaret are preparing theirs now.”
Dylan clung to her, and she had no complaints. Intense situations heighten awareness, and she wanted to be with him as much as he did her. They drove together to her bungalow, quickly showered together, and changed into clean clothes. True to her word, they were back at the jail within forty-five minutes. They separated, each going to a different room as they wrote their statements.
Dylan’s was short, but it took Hannah longer. She knew her words would be corroborated with the phone log and security camera but wanted to make sure she was accurate. One of the questions asked about the mental state of the prisoner. She hesitated, thinking back to her conversation with John, and could not help but think of the future he now had. Sucking in a deep breath through her nose, she let it out slowly, then finished the report.
Exiting the room, she scanned the hall for Dylan, finding him near the doors, deep in conversation with Luke. As she approached, both men swung their gazes toward her. Uncertain if she was interrupting, she walked straight to Dylan, easily accepting his arm around her shoulder. Looking up, she offered a smile.
“I was asking Luke about the Seaside Harbor pier… seeing him on the video,” Dylan said.
Luke nodded. “Owen advertised for a night watchman, and I was over there talking to him and checking out the area. I thought it might be a good part-time job for me.” He shrugged, adding, “At least until my job here can become a full-time position.”
“Thank you for your help in there,” she said, reaching her hand out to his arm.
“Just glad you understood about the knots.”
Grinning, she said, “Me too!”
As she and Dylan walked out of the jail and settled into his SUV, they sat silent, neither moving. He kept his eyes straight ahead and said, “I was scared. Never been that scared.”
Another moment of silence passed before she spoke. “As soon as I saw you in the hall, I knew we’d be fine. You’d shield me, and I’d shield you.”
He let out a rueful chuckle as he turned toward her, his eyes boring straight into hers. “You and me, right? Shielding each other?”
Her lips curved. “Yeah… you and me.”
He finally started the vehicle and backed out of the parking spot. Her phone was blowing up with messages from their friends. She sent out a mass text that simply said she was fine, then turned her phone off. Dylan felt the same, and they drove back to her bungalow in silence, their hands linked as well as their hearts.
28
Dylan found sleep did not come easily that night. He and Hannah ate little, talked even less, but made love with whispered words, caresses, kisses. And when he finally rocked her body with his, her legs wrapped around his back, their combined releases shook him to the core. Hannah assured him that she was fine, but he feared that she would be plagued with nightmares.
Snuggled under the covers, arms around each other and legs tangled, she cupped his jaw. “All I need is you, Dylan. As long as I have you, I’m shielded from nightmares.”
She fell asleep in his arms, but he lay awake for hours, thinking of how much he wanted her in his life forever… and how quickly life could change. As the moonlight sifted through the blinds casting a light glow over them, he finally fell asleep.
It seemed as though he had just shut his eyes when a banging on the front door rousted them awake. Sitting up at the same time, they blinked their bleary eyes. She grumbled, pushing her hair out of her face. He glanced at the clock by her bed and saw that it was after 8 o’clock. The banging continued, so he shoved the covers back and pulled on a pair of sweatpants as she jerked a long sleep shirt over her head. Still belting her robe, she followed after him as they headed to the front door.
Not wanting her to answer the door without knowing who was there, he peeked out, jerked his head backward, then leaned forward and peaked out again. Feeling a poke in his side, he looked down as Hannah asked, “Who’s there?”
“You’re not gonna believe it, babe. But get ready.” He threw open the door and they both peered onto Hannah’s stoop. Standing in front of them were his parents and hers.
“Hannah! You were on the news, and I couldn’t get hold of you on the phone! We called and called and called!” Her mother moved past everyone and threw her arms around Hannah, pulling her tight.
She looked over her mother’s shoulder toward Dylan and asked, “On the news?”
Dylan’s mother walked in next and hugged her son. “It was all over the Virginia Beach newspaper and news shows this morning. There was even a picture of the two of you coming out of the jail!”
Hannah’s father moved in next, clapped Dylan on the back, and said, “It sounds like you two were heroes.” Then he turned to Hannah and embraced her as well. “I’m proud of you.” He swallowed deeply and added, “But I’m glad I didn’t know what was happening yesterday. I’m not sure I could’ve handled knowing my daughter was a hostage.”
Shielding You (Baytown Boys Book 13) Page 23
