“Of course, I’m not going to report you to the university. I am going to insist that you talk to a professional.”
“I’m perfectly fine if no one jumps out at me. Those kids… They popped out of nowhere,” she pointed out.
“Life happens at its own pace, Saylor. People are going to rush around. You can’t operate on adrenaline all the time. Being on edge like that puts pressure on your heart and nerves. Stressing all the time will eventually make you sick.”
“I know. I hate overreacting. What if I’d actually sprayed them with mace instead of dropping my keys? I’m sure the university would consider assaulting an innocent student a fire-able offense.”
Max wrapped his hand around her shoulder and squeezed slightly. “Let’s not worry about what could have happened. You didn’t spray them. We are going to talk about some self-defense training.”
The sight of his powerful hand on her body made Saylor realize where she was. She scrambled off his lap, whispering, “Oh, my God! I’m worrying about being fired for almost dousing someone with mace while I’m sitting on a student’s lap in his home! I need to get out of here before someone sees me.”
“Your car is locked in my garage. No one will see it. This neighborhood is for military personnel and their families only. No one is going to report you to the university. And if they did, I’m over eighteen.” Max spoke calmly and quietly.
“Thank goodness for that. I am screwing everything up all over the place.”
“Tell me about the bank.” Max’s firm tone and direct gaze made it hard for her to refuse.
“It was a Tuesday morning. I ran into the bank to deposit a check. I can’t ever remember my PIN to run through the ATM, so I dashed inside. Bank tellers manned the first two windows. I got in Janice’s lane and waited my turn.”
When she paused, Max covered her hand where it twisted on the sofa between them. Without thinking she turned her wrist and linked her fingers with his. Instantly, she felt better. His presence reassured her.
“I had just greeted Janice when they burst in. Distracted by our chitchat, I missed the sudden quiet that fell over the bank. One of the gunmen shot a bullet across the employee area to get everyone’s attention. It thudded into the drive-thru glasswindow or whatever it’s made of. It didn’t shatter, but a web of cracks appeared from a center impact point.” That visual image had stuck in her mind. A representation of the violence and lack of control of the robbers.
“Come here, little girl. I need to hold you. No one’s here but you and me.”
Max lifted her from the couch and set her on his lap. He wrapped his body around her, physically shielding her. Saylor didn’t fight. She leaned against one of his thick arms, feeling safe for the first time in a very long time.
“One man kept yelling something, but I was too scared to understand. Janice looked at me and told me to get down. That unfroze me. As I dropped to the floor, he shot his gun again toward where I had stood. I heard a grunt of pain and then a wailing sound—like a wounded animal. They’d shot Janice for warning me.”
“Oh, little girl. I’m so sorry.” Max didn’t ask questions—just held her and allowed her to talk on her terms, in her time.
“I could hear the sirens. They got closer and closer to the bank until the noise battered at me. I had my head buried in my hands, my nose pressed to the gritty floor.”
Saylor stopped and forced herself to swallow. She didn’t want to go back there, to relive the terror again. Meeting Max’s gaze, she crumpled at the concern in his eyes. Tears coursed down her cheeks.
He wiped them away with his rough fingertips. The brushing sensation grounded her, proving to Saylor that she had survived. “Tell me how it ended.”
“The men grabbed what they could and ran out the back entrance to a waiting car. They must have had several cars stashed because the police followed them on cameras set up around town afterward.”
“Were they eventually caught?”
“No. They’re still out there. I think that’s what scares me the most,” she confessed.
“That’s completely understandable. How’s Janice?”
A triumphant smile spread across Saylor’s lips. “She’s okay. I mean now. Doctors rushed Janice into surgery, but she made it. She retired from the bank and moved away. I wonder sometimes if I should leave as well.”
“Do you want to do that?” he asked. His voice was even.
Saylor struggled to answer. The question had whirled around in her mind since the robbery. Would leaving change the memories in her head? Probably not. Would being in a new place scare her even more because she wouldn’t know anyone who could warn her like Janice had? The debate always resulted in the same decision.
She shook her head. “No. I love this town. It’s my home.”
“Then you don’t leave, and we help you deal with the trauma.”
“It’s not that easy. And we?”
“I plan on sticking around.”
