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Tucker and I are on our way to get your girl.
I look around the packed plane and squeeze my eyes closed. I could have hired a plane to take me to New York and back, I didn’t. I never want to get too comfortable with having the kind of money I have access to. I should have fucking got a plane. I open my eyes and flip over my wrist, we still have forty minutes before we’re scheduled to land, anything could happen in that time. My entire life could change by then.
Tell her I’m on my way
I write Miles back, then reaching above me, I press the button to get the stewardess attention then wait until she makes her way over to me.
“Is there any chance we’ll be landing sooner than planned?”
“I…” she starts and just then a ding sounds from the speaker above me.
“Hey ya folks, it looks like we’ll be landing about ten minutes ahead of schedule in Nashville.” The pilot says and the stewardess smiles as he starts to talk about the weather.
“Looks like the answer is yes.” She touches my shoulder before she walks off.
It seems to take forever for the plane to touch down and I feel like a caged animal as I listen to the sound of belt buckles being undone and people talking on the phone as we taxi across the tarmac.
As soon as I have a signal I press send on Willow’s number and listen to it ring. When her voicemail clicks on, I close my eyes then look down at my phone and dial Tucker.
“We’re outside the bank,” he answers. “A negotiator is on the phone with the guy holding her.”
“What the fuck happened?”
“The guy inside is an employee, we’re trying to figure out what set him off.”
“I’m going to kill him.”
“Good thing you’re forty thousand feet in the air.”
“We’re on the ground, just waiting to get off the plane.”
“Then let’s hope we can get this guy out before you get here,” he says and my jaw clenches.
“If he hurts her.”
“I know,” he says quietly.
“She has to be okay.” My throat gets tight with a feeling I haven’t felt in years.
“She will be. Nico just showed. I’m going to go fill him in,” he says before hanging up.
Tucking my phone into my back pocket I make my way to the front of the plane and the moment the doors open I push out.
Following the signs, I jog toward the exit then down to the carport with my bag in hand. When I make it to my Jeep, I swing open the door, toss my bag onto the seat next to mine and shove the key in the ignition.
It takes me thirty minutes to make it out of the airport and across town to the bank, each minute feeling like an hour. As I pull into the lot, I see dozens of police cars, a couple of news trucks and an ambulance parked out front. I park where there is an open spot then shove my door open. Before my boots even hit the ground Miles and Tucker join me at the side of my Jeep.
“What’s going on?”
“He’s been stalling,” Miles says. “Guy’s name is Troy. He works here. We asked to speak with Willow, but he’s refused to put her on the phone.”
“Does he have a weapon?”
“No, not one we’ve been able to see.”
“Then what the fuck is everyone doing out here?” I bark.
Miles presses closer. “We need to make sure that it’s safe to go in, and we don’t want to risk him getting scared and hurting Willow.”
My chest heaves while my hands ball into fists.
“I know you want to rush in there to her, but you need to keep your shit tight right now. There are too many people with eyes on this situation, you can’t go off half cocked.”
I jerk up my chin and he steps back then turns and watches a uniformed officer approaches.
“SWAT is on the way.”
“How far out?” Tucker asks.
“Twenty, maybe thirty minutes,” he says, before walking off.
“Hopefully this will be over soon,” Miles says.
My jaw shifts.
As they walk away to go talk to a group of officers, I stare at the bank and catch the shadow of the man inside moving past the door and a couple seconds later he passes by again. The man inside is obviously agitated and that emotion is only going to get stronger when he sees the SWAT team pull up. And not knowing what condition Willow is in, only that she has not been allowed to speak to anyone to confirm she is okay is sitting wrong in my gut.
Glancing around I check to see if anyone has eyes on me. No one does. Everyone is preoccupied. Walking around to the opposite side of my Jeep I open the back door then press a button that releases the bottom of the seat and shove it up. Taking my key out of my pocket I unlock the black box that runs the length of the seat and then look inside. It takes me just a second to decide on my M9, and to tuck it into the back of my jeans. Pulling my shirt over it, I grab my key set and slam the door. I do a scan of the parking lot then dart across the pavement to the bank and jog down the side of the building. If there is a front door, there is a back one and if his attention is on the parking lot where all the action is happening, he won’t be expecting me.
