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“What the fu—”
Blake didn’t wait for the gunman to figure out what had happened. As quick as the Flash, he grabbed the gun and with a swift twist of the man’s wrist found himself in possession of the firearm, pointing it directly at the other man’s chest.
“Toss the bag this way and get on the ground with your hands behind your back.” Blake kept sight of Hannah out of the corner his eye, the sick feeling in his stomach easing the farther away she got from danger.
The man’s hands flew up, sweat trickling down his temples. “I wasn’t going to hurt her, I swear—”
“On the ground or I will hurt you,” Blake snapped.
The sound of sirens drew closer as the man did what Blake said. Blake kept his attention solely on him, even as he spoke to Hannah.
“Are you all right?” he asked gruffly.
“Y . . . Yes. I’m fine.”
He nodded curtly, the last of the worry for her draining out of him. “Take the bag inside, and let everyone know it’s okay. I’ll stay with him.”
Hannah picked up the bag from where he’d thrown it, and Blake sensed her hesitation, then felt her hand briefly touch his arm.
“Thank you.”
This time, he couldn’t stop himself from looking at her, taking in her wide eyes, her brown hair around her shoulder in loose, thick waves. Her lips . . .
Snapping his gaze away from her, he practically growled, “Go inside.”
He couldn’t let his emotions distract
him, although they had played a large part in his response to the robbery. He hadn’t been able to leave Hannah at the hands of the gunman, not after she’d put herself in the midst of the danger.
To protect me. She did it so that the gunman would take his sights off me.
Two cruisers pulled up, and when the officers got out, their weapons drawn, Blake held his hands up.
“Drop your weapon!” a tall officer with a shiny bald head shouted.
“Yes, sir!” Blake slowly tossed the gun away from him and the man on the ground and called out, “My name is Sergeant Blake Kline with the United States Army. This man attempted to rob Dale’s Diner and take a hostage before I disarmed him.”
“That is quite a story, Kline. Don’t shoot him, guys; he’s probably telling the truth.” Officer Zack Dalton came out from behind the open squad car door with a wide grin on his face, holstering his weapon while his shiny-headed partner kept his gun on Blake. Dalton had been hired at Alpha Dog Training Program several months ago to assist with training the police dogs, and everyone at Alpha Dog respected the young officer with the wicked sense of humor.
Blake kept his hands up in case the other officers didn’t take Dalton at his word. “There are witnesses inside, including the girl this man held at gunpoint. Her name is Hannah, and the rest of the customers will vouch for me.”
Dalton walked past him and knelt next to the hooded man, securing handcuffs on his wrists behind his back. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you . . . ”
“Can you please put your hands behind your back, sir?” Blake hadn’t even heard the officer come up but did as he requested. “I am going to secure you with handcuffs as a precaution until we get a witness to corroborate your story.”
Blake complied, letting the officer secure the steel cuffs on his wrists.
“Hey, what are you doing?”
Blake and the officer turned at the sound of Hannah’s outraged cry. She was racing down the steps with an angry scowl on her face.
“Ma’am, you need to go back inside—”
Hannah ignored the officer and stopped a few feet away, her hands on her hips. “And you need to let him go right now!”
A surprise laugh escaped Blake even as the officer behind him stiffened and Blake thought he heard something unsnap. Was he actually going to pull his gun on Hannah?
“Ma’am, you are interfering with a police investigation, and if you don’t step back inside, I will be slapping a set of cuffs on you, too.”
