No More Games
Chapter Six
Shannon's hands were shaking violently as their captor's eyes bored into her. An icy chill ran up and down her spine so viciously that her entire body trembled with fear and she had to clutch at the counter with her free hand as she continued to fill the bag with money.
Tears that she tried to blink away were painfully stinging her eyes and her breaths were coming out in a raspy rhythm. She felt lightheaded and nauseous, not to mention terrified beyond belief.
And seeing the man in the black jacket climbing to his feet made it even worse.
Her breaths became shallower—she was on the verge of hyperventilating—though she didn't allow her eyes to turn away from her task. She knew that if her gaze so much as flickered in his direction that the crazed man holding them all here wouldn't hesitate to put a bullet through him.
"Keep filling," ordered the gunman, meanwhile the man in the black jacket held a single finger to his lips to urge her silence. She nodded her head to compliance of both commands and lowered her eyes back to what she was doing.
The bag quickly filled and the man in the sweatshirt leaned over the counter to study her closer. She caught the whiff of his bad cologne and tobacco on his breath. Her stomach gave an involuntary clench as she fought the urge to gag.
"I promise I won't hurt you, Shannon," he whispered to her, which caught her off guard.
Her eyes darted to his as she looked at him in wonder. "How do you know my name?" she asked, her words spoken barely above a whisper.
A confident little smile curled to his lips as she glanced over her shoulder. She followed his gaze with confusion as her eyes set upon the vase of beautiful white roses her brother had sent her the day before. At least, that's who she'd thought had sent them when she'd accepted the delivery. All the card had said was: 'With Love, B.'
"Oh, God." Her eyes suddenly widened in shock as she stared at him. It was him. He was the one who'd been sending her the gifts, the flowers… those letters. Ugh!
And while she was figuring it all out, he was just smiling back at her as if this was all just some sort of game.
"It's you," she gasped and backed away from the desk. Some of the packets of money spilled out onto the countertop and that was when the cold façade fell back over his features.
He raised his weapon back in her line of sight. He really didn't want to hurt her. She was far too beautiful to kill. "Pick them up," he commanded.
She shook her head as she backed up as far as the small space would allow. Her back touched the cool marble wall behind her, but it still wasn't far enough away from this crazed man; the same crazed man that had been stalking her.
He held the weapon tighter. "Don't make me ask you a second time."
She whimpered in fear as she stared down the barrel of the gun yet again. She still needed to stay strong. She couldn't let him have the upper hand. But for that the happen, she couldn't look straight ahead. Her eyes instinctively darted to the left and she only realized too late that he would notice.
He noticed the presence of someone standing behind him, disappointed in himself that he'd let his guard down long enough for some brave fool to try to fight back. And he knew just who that fool was.
Swinging around, he kicked high, knocking the gun out of Jack's hand and with his own weapon cradling in his hand, backhanded the other man across the face. Jack was knocked back and he fell to the ground, blood trickling freely from the corner of his mouth.
Jack shook his head to chase away the lights dancing before his eyes and searched for his gun. Seeing that it was just out of reach, he made to grab for it. It was almost in his grasp before a foot came down and shuffled it farther away from him.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you," the gunman growled coldly as he reached for the zipper of his sweatshirt. He pulled it carefully down and opened it, grinning widely as he watched the look of horror appear in the other man's eyes.
"Bobby!" Tara called after him. He was already halfway down the hall and she had to run to catch up with him. Even then he didn't stop for her. She let out a low, menacing growl. His attitude was becoming very annoying. "Bobby, stop," she urged as he reached out to grab his arm.
He did so reluctantly and turned to her with a pained expression on his face. "What is it now, Tara?"
She didn't know what to say to him that she hadn't already said. Sometimes it felt like they were still walking on eggshells around each other ever since their… incident… a couple of weeks ago, but she was still his friend and if he needed to talk, she would be there for him. Just like she knew he would be there for her. "I just… I wish you would tell me what's bothering you."
He shook his head, the expression in his eyes telling her to just drop it. "It's nothing."
She wasn't just going to drop this. "It's not nothing," she shot back, a little louder than was necessary. She blushed scarlet when eyes swiveled in their direction. "It's obviously something," she continued a bit softer a second later, "because you've been acting this way all afternoon." She huffed out a heavy breath and brushed her bangs out of her eyes as she waited for some sort of response. He didn't give one. "It has something to do with those letters you were looking at in the conference room, doesn't it?" Of that she was absolutely certain, but it was what they contained that had her curious.
His expression shifted before her eyes and she knew she'd hit the nail on the head.
"What's going on, Bobby?"
His head lowered and his shoulders sagged as if he they were carrying some huge weight. "It's hard to explain," was all he chose to tell her and he knew that she wouldn't back down because of it.
She just arched an eyebrow in frustration and crossed her arms over her chest as she waited. "Try me."
He rolled his eyes. "Why is this so important for you to know?"
That question hurt her. If he believed that she wouldn't be there for him, despite everything that had happened between them, then she obviously didn't know him as well as she'd once believed. "Because it's important to you," she retorted and then added when she was certain her heart could bear the weight of the question; not to mention the pain of the answer, "Does this have anything to do with Darcy?"
He looked surprised as she brought up his former girlfriend—the woman he'd chosen over Tara. He bit back an angry curse. It wasn't directed at her, but at himself. He knew he'd hurt Tara a great deal when he'd told her that kissing her made him realize that he was in love with Darcy. He'd hurt himself as well. It was a stupid, idiotic mistake to make and he'd been regretting it ever since the words slipped out of his mouth and even more so when she'd chosen Stanley over him.
"No." There was a finality to his tone that stunned him. It had been the first time he'd been able to admit to both someone else and also himself that he and Darcy were actually over. "We broke up when she left for LA."
Tara was shocked by that information. She'd been convinced that the two of them would attempt a long-distance relationship. At least, that was the way it had seemed a few weeks ago. But if they had broken up, who did Bobby call at the end of almost every day? "So, then, what is this about?" she continued to prod after the shock wore off.
He silently weighed her question in his mind, his teeth gently nipping at the inside pocket of his lower lip. This was painful enough to think about, let alone talk about. Shannon was his sister—his little sister—and she'd gone to him for help, but he'd been too busy for her.
For weeks, she'd been getting strange gifts and letters from an admirer and she'd been terrified beyond reason. And what had he done? Merely brushed it off; said it was nothing she should worry about. Now, he would bet a year's salary that the crazed maniac holding up the bank she worked at was the same one who'd sent the letters.
An angry cursed slipped passed his lips and lifted his eyes to Tara's. She still stood there, waiting some sort of explanation. And he wanted to tell her, he really did, but how could he just come out and tell her that he was a drongo?
"Well?" she finally asked when he didn't respond. She'd waited patiently enough and now she wanted some answers.
His mouth opened like he was going to speak, but quickly turned when he heard Myles calling his name. Both turned in the Bostonian's direction, their conversation suddenly forgotten as they saw the alarmed expression he wore.
"There's a bomb."
That got their attention and Tara was the first to move. She walked around him, but he pulled her to a stop. "Later," he promised. He would tell her everything. About Shannon, her stalker, and even how that kiss had affected him. She merely nodded in response before heading back to the bullpen.