Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 82077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82077 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 410(@200wpm)___ 328(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
I did as he asked, and went to the parking lot and was back in minutes. When I returned, Sam was still down on one knee, having used the guy’s belt as a tourniquet to stop the bleeding, and the guy, whose name was Tate, was on his back now. Sam hadn’t hit an artery—he normally hit what he was shooting at, and marshals had to be certified every three months—so the guy would live. When I passed him a zip tie, having brought more but giving him only one, Sam immediately got his wrists secured just as we all heard sirens.
He stood and checked me over then, doing what he always did and making sure I was blood and bruise-free. I got the tight hug after that and a kiss, just so I knew I was loved and I’d worried him but everything was going to be all right. As though I didn’t know that already. As if I had been scared even for a moment.
“Ohmygod,” Abbey—it was Abbey, I saw the name tag under her sweater on her shirt then—cried out, trembling hard as she moved out of her husband’s arms and staggered over to Sam. “I was so scared and you were so amazing and”—she began sobbing—“thank you.”
He took her in his arms, gave her several gentle pats on the back, bent, and whispered in her ear, and we all watched her nod.
“He’s good at this part,” I told Jillian.
“I can’t imagine what would have happened if the two of you weren’t here.” She turned then and faced me. “I was terrified, so was everyone else…but not you.”
I shook my head. “Nothing bad can happen to me when my husband’s with me.”
She nodded, and I saw uniformed policemen surge into the large room, rushing over to Sam, who was still comforting Abbey. He spoke to the officers as he continued to pat Abbey, rub slow circles on her back, and thanked another woman who rushed up with a pack of tissues.
Another man walked up, reaching for Sam’s hand. He took it, and then they both turned, and Sam pointed to where the gun that he’d kicked away from Tate still lay. They got it into an evidence bag moments later.
Chris Becker, Sam’s supervisory deputy, was there a few minutes later, along with Eli Kohn and two others from the team I didn’t know. They had to document Sam handing over his weapon to Chris so they could do the ballistics checks to have it corroborate with the statement he gave. It was interesting that when they took a gun, they gave him one back. As a federal agent, he could not be unarmed, even in the time it took him to go from where we were to home.
He had to go with Eli and Chris to the police station to give his statement, as did Abbey and Luke, as they had been the ones that Sam saved.
“You take the car home, and I’ll be there as soon as I can,” he promised, kissing me on the forehead before hugging me tight.
Dylan and Chris were too shaken to even suggest having dinner anymore, and Sam hugged both of them before he left. I knew it would be a zoo at the police station; it always was when Sam was in the news. What was helpful was that now he had Eli to help him navigate the press, and since that time, even knowing the truth, everything always sounded nicer and less touch-and-go when Eli explained it. He had a gift for downplaying Sam’s brushes with death. This one, though, had been well documented. Apparently, there was already video of the whole thing popping up online.
To make sure my kids weren’t blindsided, as soon as I got home, I got on FaceTime and talked to them both.
“What’s wrong?” Hannah asked frantically.
“Are you fine? Is Dad fine?” Kola wanted to know.
I had to explain about the hiccup at the meeting. This, of course, was not the concern.
“Why are you guys going to marriage counseling?” Kola snapped at me. “And you,” he addressed Hannah. “You’re supposed to tell me if anything goes wonky with them.”
“Nothing has gone wonky with them,” Hannah growled at her brother. “They’re fine—or at least they were when I saw them two days ago. I have no idea what they were doing there.”
I had to explain about Dylan and Chris, and then swore them to secrecy since Dylan’s kids and mine were close.
“Does Micah know?” Hannah asked me. “Because he’s getting ready to get married himself, and if his parents get a divorce—I mean, that’s going to mess with his whole vibe.”
I shook my head at her.
“What? She’s right,” Kola defended his sister. “Does he know his parents are getting divorced?”
“His parents aren’t––” I huffed out a frustrated breath. “––they’re fine, and after tonight, I think they’re going to be even better. No one’s getting divorced.”