Rescued by the SEAL by Davenport, Fiona (readera ebook reader TXT) 📗

they’d taken “one of the tellers” to the back with the manager.

“I’ll unlock the front so you can begin helping the hostages, but your men better be fucking silent because if they alert one of the other robbers and that teller is killed, I’ll have their careers and their heads.”

She started to say something else, her tone indignant, and I growled, “You can send your best man to go with me, but I will go after those hostages.” I hung up while she sputtered, then crept over to the front door and quietly flipped the lock. Two men in bulletproof vests and police uniforms came in and went right to the group of scared patrons. A third walked in and nodded to me, his vest indicating he was FBI. From the way he carried himself, his haircut, and the belt perfectly straight with the gig line, this guy was active or former military.

I cocked my head toward the back, and he nodded, drawing his weapon. He silently followed me as I headed for the door to the teller area. There was a small bank of televisions, and I glanced over them all until I spotted the three men at the vault. One was holding the manager, and the other had an arm wrapped around my girl.

That motherfucker wouldn’t be carrying that limb around for long.

We crept down the hallway, listening carefully. When we were around the corner from the vault, someone spoke. “We don't need two.”

“Better leverage,” another grunted.

“Maybe,” the first guy muttered. “As long as I get to be in charge of this tasty piece of ass, you can do whatever the fuck you want.”

The agent with me must have seen the rage and murderous intention on my face because he grabbed my arm in an iron grip and shook his head. I took two long, deep breaths and mentally shouted at myself to remember my training. I’d never allowed myself to be distracted during a mission, but apparently, when it involved Cora, all of my skills went out the fucking window.

“We’re about done,” a third voice—I was pretty sure it was the brick house—grunted. “Larry, lock the hostages in the break room and head back here.”

Silence…

“Larry?”

Silence…

“Want me to check on him?”

“No, we need to get the fuck out of here before the police storm the building. Something has happened to him, or he’s not paying attention. Either way, I’m leaving.”

The agent and I suddenly rounded the corner, guns aimed at the heads of the two men who weren’t holding Cora.

“Let them go,” I warned in a deadly tone. I gave myself one brief glance at her to make sure she wasn’t harmed before focusing on the two bastards threatening her.

The man holding the bank manager started to put a gun to his head, but I put a bullet between his eyes before he’d even lifted his arm halfway.

The manager fell to his knees, and tears streamed down his pudgy face as he scrambled into a corner, curling up to make himself as little as possible. Pussy.

“Make another move, and I’ll kill her,” the brick house responded flatly—obviously not bothered one bit by the fact that I’d just killed his crewmate.

“You wouldn’t make it a single step before I took you down,” I snarled.

“Maybe, but I’ll take her with me.” He gestured to his last conspirator. “Grab the bag.”

The other man picked up a small sack. They left everything else as they backed down a hallway to the rear exit. “Tell them to let us through, or she’s dead.”

The agent spoke into the radio on his vest before nodding. “You’re clear.”

When I finally let myself meet Cora’s eyes, they were filled with terror. But she wasn’t falling apart, not even a glimmer of tears in her eyes. I was so fucking proud of her, and her show of strength just hammered home the fact that I’d been shortchanging her. She was right. The decision to be together wasn’t mine alone. “You’re going to be all right, gingersnap.”

“I know,” she said softly, her voice steady as she looked at me with faith in her expression. Letting her down wasn’t a fucking option. Now that I’d finally given in to my need for Cora, I wasn’t about to lose her.

“Once we’re somewhere safe, we’ll call the bank and tell you where to pick her up.”

“If she so much as breaks a fingernail,” I growled, “I’ll make you bleed before I end your life.”

My gaze never wavered from the dead man holding my girl as he exited the building. I looked for an opportunity to take him out, but I wasn’t going to risk it unless I was certain there was no chance of Cora being hurt.

The agent and I followed them outside, and the man holding the bag jumped into the driver’s side of a nondescript white van. The other carefully maneuvered into the back, basically using Cora as a human shield.

Police cars raced after the vehicle, but ten minutes later, they radioed to say they'd lost it when at least five matching vans entered the highway, clearly there to give the robbers cover.

I was being debriefed by the FBI agent in charge when they called it in. My hands balled into fists, and I counted to ten so I wouldn’t put a dent in the car next to me.

“We’re done,” I announced and stalked away, pulling out my phone and hitting a number as soon as I knew I wouldn’t be overheard.

“Reed?” Cash answered after one ring.

“I need your help.”

3 Cora

I’d kept my eyes on Huntley the entire time the robber dragged me out of the bank. He was my lifeline, keeping me calm right up until the moment when the door to the white van slammed shut. I felt as though all of the air was knocked out of my lungs when I was shoved down and the van sped forward, but not because of how hard I landed. The loss of Huntley’s steady gaze was what