Fear for Jason galvanized Emma into action. “Look, you can have my money. Please, just don’t hurt us.”
“Then get it. I don’t have all fucking night!”
“The register has been emptied already. It’s in the back, in my office.”
“If you’re messing with me, I’ll kill you.”
“I’m not, I swear.”
“Fine. Let’s all three take a little trip to the back.”
Jason took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze as he led the way around the counter.
“Faster, damn it!”
Together, they moved through the doorway, the gunman at their back. Emma could feel the barrel pressed into her spine. Her legs were shaking by the time she reached her office. Releasing Jason’s hand, Emma walked around the side of the desk. She looked up, her gaze connecting with the robber’s dark and sinister eyes. “The money bag is in my drawer. I’m just going to reach into my pocket to retrieve the key.”
“Fine, just fucking hurry!”
She reached into the pocket of her slacks and pulled out her keys. Her fingers shook so bad it took three tries to get the drawer unlocked. When she pulled out the large envelope and held it
out, the robber snatched it out of her hand and shoved it into the pocket of his hoodie. He started to back out of the room. “If you call the cops, I’ll come back here and kill you both.”
Jason began to slowly move, and Emma’s fear ratcheted up several notches. He winked as if in a bid for her silence and cooperation. Emma froze in place. As the robber reached the doorway, Jason sprang forward and grabbed the hand holding the gun. The stranger cursed and struggled, but his thin frame couldn’t match Jason’s muscular build. Within seconds Jason had wrestled the gun away, and the man was pinned beneath him on the floor.
“Call 911, baby,” Jason said in a controlled voice. Emma was anything but in control. Her nerves were shot as she reached across the desk for the phone. As she started to dial, Jason glanced over at her. “Are you okay?”
She nodded as she spoke to the dispatcher on the phone.
All the while, the man kicked and writhed, cursing a blue streak. Jason pulled on his arms a little harder. “Shut the hell up, damn it,” Jason bit out.
“Fuck you!” the guy shouted back. God, did the man have a death wish? Jason had about fifty pounds of muscle on the guy, not to mention he was in possession of the gun.
“The police are on their way,” she said, her voice quivering as fear raced through her bloodstream.
“Baby, why don’t you go out front and wait for the cops? This guy’s not going anywhere.”
Emma didn’t want to leave him there alone with the guy, subdued or not. When she heard sirens off in the distance, relief poured through her. “Go,” he urged. “I’ve got this, I promise.”
Emma sent up a silent prayer before carefully stepping around their flailing assailant. But when she was within a few feet of the man, he flung out his leg and knocked her off her feet. She hit her head on the corner of the desk, and everything went black.
Emma felt like she was making her way through a dense fog. She tried opening her eyes but flinched at the pain. The light was too bright, and it made her head hurt worse than it did already. She was lying down, and when she tried to sit up, a hand came to her shoulder, gently pushing her back down again. With more effort, she slowly blinked her eyes open. The light hurt, but it was bearable. She was staring at Jason, who sat in a chair at her bedside, and he looked so troubled. But why?
“Jason, what happened?”
“Just relax, baby,” he soothed “Everything is going to be okay.”
He took her hand in his and kissed it tenderly, stroking his thumb over her palm. Her confusion must have come through, because he asked, “Do you remember anything?”
“Uh, not really.” She tried to think, but her head was just so jumbled.
“Last night, your shop was robbed.” He quickly quieted her fears by adding, “But the asshole’s in jail. You’re safe.”
“Where he’ll stay for a good long time,” another male voice chimed in.
They both turned toward the door, Emma a little too quickly. She gasped at the pain the movement brought on. Jason got up out of his chair and bent over Emma as if to shield her physically from the pain. In three long strides, Jensen was at the other side of the bed, asking if she was okay.
She closed her eyes briefly, allowing the darkness to wash away the pain. Without opening her eyes again, she said, “I’d be better if someone would tell me what happened, where I am, and why my head hurts like someone took a sledgehammer to it.”