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She held out her wrists for him to cut her ties, her face bright pink. Both relief at seeing him alive, followed by anger, flared in her eyes. “Were you out of your mind? What happened?”
Sweat rolled down the back of his neck as adrenaline still flowed inside him, and he sliced through her zip tie. “They’re safely shut in the vault.”
She sagged against the wall and blew out her breath. “Thank God.” Then she narrowed her gaze. “You could have gotten killed. Hell, you could have gotten any one of us killed.”
He studied her expression, which told him how upset she was. “Everything’s fine, Haylee. Let me cut everyone’s ties.”
She snapped her teeth shut and looked at her hands. He moved to each person, sliced through their bonds, and slid his knife into his pocket.
As the last person’s ties were cut, the police rushed through the glass doors to the sides of the revolving door on the floor, still wet from the rain dripping off their clothing.
The officers shouted for everyone to raise their hands, guns drawn. Tyson put his hands up, the others following his lead.
The place was filled with the sound of crackling radios and shouts from police as they surveyed the scene.
A lieutenant named George Valdez spotted then beckoned to Tyson. He’d gone to school with George, and he lowered his hands and got to his feet to meet his old friend in the middle of the lobby.
Tyson spelled out all the details, and Lieutenant Valdez told three of his officers to check the vault and that the two suspects secured inside were armed.
As Valdez walked away to process the scene, the weight of the events of the last few minutes washed over him. Haylee thought he had acted recklessly, but he’d been an MP in the service, so he had training. He couldn’t sit back and do nothing while people’s lives were in danger.
An officer marched the robber that Tyson had decked toward the front door. The man’s stocking had been removed from his head. Recognition stunned Tyson. Clint Taylor bowed his head as he shuffled past.
Tyson’s gut tightened when he spotted Haylee in the lobby, where the hostages were being processed. She could have been killed, and he would never have forgiven himself for letting her get hurt.
Had she recognized Taylor? Was that why she hadn’t seemed more concerned about her safety?
The police officers came out of the back, leading the two robbers away in handcuffs, the stockings removed from their heads. He recognized one of the men who had been in the back of the truck that had almost mowed down the older man in the parking lot at the barn dance. Taylor had gotten caught up with some real bad guys.
As the commotion died, Tyson hurried toward Haylee, dodging officers and equipment. She still sat on the floor, her drying hair falling across her cheeks, her eyes brimming with emotions he couldn’t identify.
He crouched in front of her. “I know you think I should have stayed back and waited it out.” He added quietly, “I couldn’t do that. I couldn’t let them hurt you.”
“You probably saved all our lives, so we owe you our thanks.” Tears rolled down her cheeks as she spoke. “But you could have been killed.”
Her throat worked and she went on before he could say anything. “I can’t be with someone who plays hero and puts his life at risk.” Her eyes now looked distant, like he had already lost her. “No, not again. Never again.”
“Haylee, wait.” His gut clenched as she got to her feet. She ignored the hand he offered her.
She brushed off the seat of her jeans, giving him one last sad look through her tears. “Goodbye, Tyson.”
He touched her arm. “Please, wait.”
She hesitated, not looking back at him. “Never again,” she said quietly, then walked away.
He stared after her, feeling helpless. How had it all gone so terribly wrong?
15
Haylee’s eyes burned as she walked away from Tyson. She gripped her hands at her sides as she fought to hold back more tears. Her mouth had gone dry.
The disorder around the bank lobby didn’t compare to the tumult that churned inside of her. How could Tyson take such chances with his life? What made him so reckless that he could have gotten himself killed?
Was that thrill what drove him? She shook her head, her thoughts rattling around her skull. Being honest with herself, she knew he did it out of a sense of right and wrong and genuinely caring about her and others.
But he could have been killed. That made it three times that he’d put himself in danger—two times where he’d ended up at the wrong end of a gun. How many more times would he do the same? Her heart couldn’t take it if he got killed.
Like Danny. He had risked his life to save others, and he had died because of it.
