“Like you don’t swear,” Hurst snapped back. “Just this morning, you told me to—” he stopped talking at whatever expression was on his wife’s face.
“Anyway, he’s in there and says he’s got grenades and dynamite on him. I managed to get through to Naomi, who’s in the panic room, and she said she could see through the cameras that he’s got extended magazines in his guns and more under his coat.”
The news made me feel sick.
“The S.W.A.T. team has tried to make contact with him, but Bailey isn’t interested in their shit, so Judd’s trying to get through to him now.”
Linda turned to look out of the window again and gasped. “Oh, shit. They’re sending him in.”
All of us pushed up against the glass—yes, it was a stupid thing to do—to see better.
Unfortunately, all we were in time to see was the door swinging shut behind him.
Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I sent a text with the words in it that I wish I’d had the guts to say way before now.
Me: I love you.
Then I sent another one.
Me: Come home safely tonight, or I’ll put the wax all over your legs while you’re sleeping.
The wax was marketed on a lie—pain free wax. It wasn’t pain free, not even for us who were used to having bits waxed. In fact, it was one of the most painful waxing experiences of my life.
And because the men had laughed at us while we’d tested it, we’d made them hold out an arm so we could show them why it wasn't funny. Poor Cody had even had to try it after he’d found both the men and women’s pain hilarious.
Needless to say, none of them laughed after that, and now it was my go to threat when I needed it to be.
It wasn’t a threat this time, though. It was a promise.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Alex
My joints weren’t made to be squatting down behind a desk for any length of time, but it made me feel better seeing the discomfort on some of the others’ faces for the same reason.
“My feet are dead,” Raoul mouthed at me, cringing when he shifted slightly. I’m sure he said fuck me after it, but his head was tipped back, so I couldn’t see his mouth properly.
On the other side of me were DB and Carter, who’d been talking by the desk they were now crouched behind when Terry Bailey had stormed in and started shooting. My son looked like he wanted to throttle Bailey, bring him back to life, then do it all over again.
The only thing keeping Carter from losing his shit was that Naomi was nowhere to be seen, and we knew she’d have the good sense to go to the panic room, turn on the monitors, and feedback on what she was seeing to the team outside.
“You never shoulda looked,” Terry screamed, knocking something over with a crash. “Shoulda just kept on being pigs, doing pig things. Bacon got no business trying to get me. I only eat beef.”
A movement brought my attention back to DB, who mouthed, “That’s what she said.”
Fuck’s sake.
As Terry continued with his ‘original’ and ‘inventive’ shit hurling at police in general, I tried to find a comfier position to squat in and about died when the pain radiated from my feet to my hips. How long had we even been like this for?
The problem was, we’d tried shooting back, but because we’d all dropped behind whatever furniture we could find for protection if we popped up to shoot, it was like a revolver version of whack-a-mole for the asshole. He was a good shot, and Alejandro and Raoul were proof of this. They were also proof that our vests did a great job, though, so there was that. Hurst would be pleased.
Speaking of, it was also just as well Carter wasn’t wearing that bodysuit anymore. I could only imagine how fierce his wedgie would be right now.
Hearing the phone ring again, I rolled my eyes. I understood the approach and tactics they had to situations like this, but the guy had already told the S.W.A.T. negotiator he wasn’t here for them and wasn’t interested in anything they said. All he was doing was picking the phone up and slamming it back down again whenever they rang, and it was ramping up his anger and hostility each time.
A new voice coming from farther down the building made my head snap up, and I exchanged an ‘oh, fuck!’ with the others.
Judd was here.
“Hey, Terry, put the weapon down a second. I’m coming in, and I’m not armed.”
“Fuck off!” he yelled back, sounding like he didn’t have a care in the world.
Judd, though, wasn’t a quitter, so he didn’t do as the man had asked him to.
“Can’t do that, I’m afraid. I already paid for my ticket, and it’s non-refundable.”