Page 2 of My Vigilante Valentine

Surely this wasn’t happening.

Surely, I hadn’t just been stressing about a dumb post on social media only to land in the middle of an actual bank robbery.

Then my body caught up, and my stomach dropped like I’d just gone over the first hill of a rollercoaster. My fingers clenched around the deposit bag as icy dread froze me in place.

Chris was on top of it though, yanking me down behind the nearest desk. His hands pressed against my shoulders as we dropped to the ground, shoving me behind the bulk of his body like some kind of human shield.

“What are you doing?” I hissed.

Chris turned his head just enough to give me a fullWhat do you think I’m doing?look.

I exhaled sharply through my nose, swallowing down the panic that was clawing its way up my throat. “I’m just saying, statistically, men are way more likely to get shot in these situations. So maybe I should be in front of you.”

Chris rolled his eyes, and then another voice barked out orders from across the room, sharp and demanding.

Okay. This is real.

The tension in the room thickened to suffocating levels, pressing down like a weighted blanket I hadn’t asked for. The air was suddenly too hot and cold at the same time.

Did they have to lock us in?

Was this what it felt like to be claustrophobic? I was actually a big fan of cozy nooks, but suddenly this wide, expansive bank felt like a coffin.

Chris exhaled slowly through his nose. “You good?” he whispered, barely audible over the blood rushing in my ears.

Could he hear it? The frantic drumbeat of my heart?

“Yeah,” I murmured back. “Just… thinking about how annoying it’s gonna be if I die before finding out what that post was about.”

His lips twitched before he shot me a glare. Exasperation and worry were at war in his eyes.

But I couldn’t help myself.

“What? If this is the end, I have questions.”

Chris pinched the bridge of his nose. “You do not have the correct priorities right now.”

A shuffle of movement came from the front of the bank. The sound of someone pacing, their heavy footsteps echoing on the tile.

Then, a new voice—agitated and impatient. “Hurry it up!”

I swallowed hard, forcing my voice lower. “You wanna talk about priorities? How about the fact that if I don’t make it out of here, my staff is gonna have to go work for the mean caffeine fiend?”

Chris dragged a hand down his face, his fingers shaking slightly.

But I saw it—the flicker of amusement he was trying to hide. The way his lips had twitched at my ridiculousness despite the gravity of our situation.

Before I could whisper something else (because, at this point, it was a coping mechanism to keep my panic at bay), a loud crash sounded from the front of the bank.

It felt like the gunshot at the start of a race—except instead of sprinting forward, I went completely still.

Then—movement.

Fast.Too fast.

Several people gasped as a blur of black cut through the chaos, moving with silent, terrifying precision.

Chris and I were still crouched behind the desk, watching in wide-eyed horror, but now, we weren’t just watching the robbers.

---