Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82186 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
“Not without a hostage, and I think I just picked her,” Andy snarled at Kola, reaching for Hannah, who went from sitting to standing so quickly that he took several steps back from her in surprise and, it was obvious from his face, fear.
“I’m ready,” Hannah rushed out so her voice wouldn’t quaver. She had absolute faith in her father, that he would arrive in time to protect and save her, but still, all three men had guns.
“Hey,” Jake chimed in, tipping his head at Hannah. “Could you give her phone back so she can record what happens? I want to see.”
“Oh yeah, me too,” Harper rushed out.
“Ditto that,” Kola crowed.
“The fuck are you talking about?” Andy yelled at Kola, stepping over in front of him.
“Should I sit?” Hannah asked, sounding exasperated.
He looked from her to Kola, who had both eyebrows raised, waiting, and then back to Hannah. “Why the hell aren’t you scared? Everyone else is fuckin’ pissing themselves, but not you all. The hell is going on?”
“My father,” Hannah stated, and the duh was implied.
“Who the fuck is your father?” he roared, charging back over to her and shoving the muzzle of the gun into her side.
Harper gasped. Loudly. His eyes were huge above his mask.
The guy now holding the case and the bag joined Andy in the middle of the circle and glared at Harper. “What the hell.”
Harper shook his head.
“Speak!” he ordered.
Taking a breath, Harper squinted as he looked up at them. “Their father,” he croaked out, pointing first at Kola and then at Hannah, “is a federal marshal. Actually, he’s the top marshal here in Chicago, and when he finds out that you threatened his daughter, I…” He glanced at Kola and then me and then back to Andy. “I think you die for that.”
“Marshals don’t kill people,” another man chimed in. “Marshals are the––”
“Oh please,” the man that told me to console Hannah scoffed, before he looked over at me. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea your husband was coming. I didn’t mean to tell you how to parent. That was very rude. Please forgive me.”
“No worries,” I assured him.
“My name’s Grant.”
“Jory,” I told him.
“What the hell,” Andy gasped, looking lost, gun lowered, letting me see how overwhelmed he truly was.
Grant turned to look at the man whose statement he’d countered. “It was rude to interrupt you as well, uh…”
“Todd.”
“Todd,” Grant repeated. “All I meant to allude to was the fact that anyone will go rogue if their family gets hurt.”
“That’s very true,” Todd agreed, nodding.
“Absolutely,” a woman next to Grant affirmed. “I’m a psychologist, Dr. Vera Rapone, and we’ve actually done studies on ex-law-enforcement officers who went far beyond the letter of the law in punishing those who had threatened or harmed their families.”
“Really?” another woman asked. “I’d love to read that.”
One more second and Andy would have lost all semblance of control, but he took that opportunity to shoot out a window to get everyone’s attention.
The silence was instantaneous.
Huffing out a breath, he walked over to me and crouched down. “I don’t believe in fairy tales, so please show me this super-scary federal marshal that you all belong to, because I think it’s a bunch of shit.”
There was no way in hell I was showing the man a picture of my husband, but the phone ringing on the wall to the left of the beverage station saved me from having to. The sound startled me as well, easily taking five years off my life.
“Jesus,” I gasped, and several people gave me some amens in solidarity.
It was one of those phones with multiple lines where you could put people on hold or speaker. By the fifth ring, everyone was annoyed, especially the guy who was guarding the double doors.
“For fuck’s sake, answer it,” he barked at the other two men, but when no one moved, he charged over and punched buttons, answering the phone himself but not picking up the handset. “Who the fuck is this?”
“This is Chief Anthony Reynolds of the Oak Park Police Department. We have the restaurant surrounded. Everyone has been cleared from the building but you three and the other people in the patio area. I urge you to come out now with your hands up.”
“Listen to me, we have hostages and––”
“No, you listen,” came the cold and deadly voice of the man I loved. “Andrew Pilsen, Evan Slater, and Josh Eakins, this is Chief Deputy Sam Kage of the Northern District of Illinois. We’re coming in.”
“No, you listen, I––”
Something slammed into the back door. It sounded like metal on metal.
“I’m going to the tunnel,” either Evan or Josh announced, I had no idea who was who, before he turned, bolted to the double glass doors, and unlocked and then threw them open before running from the enclosed patio.