Page 94 of Rescuing Mary

“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.

“Good. Come on.” Deuce walked sideways, never loosening his grasp on Mary’s arm, keeping Truck in his line of sight. He hauled her to the vault that held all the safety-deposit boxes. Once inside, he grabbed the key ring out of her hand then flung her to the side of the space. “Sit over there and don’t fucking move or say a word,” he ordered.

Without hesitation, Mary lowered herself to the floor in front of a set of the boxes in the vault and hugged her knees to her chest. Her arm was throbbing, but she silently massaged it, trying not to bring any more attention to herself than she’d already received.

“You, go over there,” Deuce ordered Truck, pointing to the other side of the room. “Snake, let the others in when they get here. Should be two more minutes.”

Mary bit her lip even as the pit in her stomach got bigger. The others? Shit, how many more? This was getting worse and worse by the minute.

“Bet you’re wondering what we’ve got planned,” Deuce said to Mary.

“Yeah, I am.”

“The Ladbrook Boys don’t take kindly to not gettin’ what they want. And last time two of my boys were here, they most certainly didn’t get what they wanted. So we’re here to make sure everyone knows not to fuck with us and that we always get what’s comin’ to us.”

Mary blinked. Did this guy know how stupid he sounded? They were going to get what was coming to them for sure. Didn’t they realize that lunchtime was one of the busiest times for a bank? That there were going to be plenty of people who knew the bank wasn’t supposed to be closed at lunch and would call the cops? They’d never get out of the bank alive.