Page 2 of Dreaming of Us

“And the customers get crankier. See you soon.”

“Have a nice lunch, Shelly.”

I knew Shelly was right. The longer a customer had to wait, the crankier they seemed to get, but I desperately needed a distraction from my thoughts.

Chapter Two

BRAYLIN

That saying ‘Be careful what you wish for’has never been more accurate. Not even an entire minute after Shelly walked out the door, the first customer came in and walked straight to my window. From there, it was a steady stream. It was rather nice, though, keeping busy. Unfortunately, the line started backing up once Mrs. Arbuckle arrived to make a cash deposit.

I watched as her frail fingers shook while she sorted her money. Each bill was separately smoothed and turned to face the same direction, which I appreciated. However, inwardly, I cringed as I eyed the growing line. Outwardly, I had my customer service smile on.

I knew better than to offer to count her money. Mrs. Arbuckle was a very independent woman who was set in her ways. Instead, I filled out a deposit slip and eyed her petite body. She was already a short woman, but with age and frailty, her height had diminished to barely being able to comfortably reach the counter at my window.

A huff of irritation sounded from the front of the line, making me jerk my head up with a glare fixed on my face. The construction worker wearing dirty jeans and a dusty shirt had the good grace to look abashed at my silent admonishment. He broke eye contact, choosing to stare at his stained work boots instead.

“Here you go, Braylin. All nice and neat for you.” Mrs. Arbuckle smiled up at me as she slid the stack of twenty-dollar bills over the polished wood.

“You did a fabulous job, Mrs. Arbuckle. Just let me get this logged into your account, and you’ll be all set!” I gave her my brightest smile as she patted my hand with hers.

“You’re such a good girl. When are you going to settle down with a beau? When I was your age, I was expecting my second child. You would make someone such a good wife.” I held back my wince at her words. I knew she meant well. I just couldn’t help the rush of overwhelming sadness they caused. The only man I had ever been able to imagine being married to had been in love with another woman for as long as I’ve known him. It had been a while since the familiar feelings had managed to fill me, but seeing Colton today had obviously cracked the wall I erected years ago.

“I appreciate that, Mrs. Arbuckle. Here’s your receipt. You be careful heading home, okay?”

She started to respond when a crash at the front door had every head in the place turning to see what the commotion was. My brain went numb before I could comprehend what I was seeing.

“Everybody, hands in the air!”

Two men with full balaclavas rushed through the doors, both armed with handguns and carrying what looked to be reusable canvas shopping bags. When a gun swiveled in my direction, pointing straight at me, I jolted and shot my hands straight up.I had to remember how to breathe as the air seemed to get stuck in my lungs, and every cell in my body went cold with dread.

“Get over here, bitch. Keep your hands up, and don’t even think about pushing your fucking panic button,” he snarled in a deep voice I didn’t recognize. I nodded my head frantically and shuffled my feet before stepping back from the counter, deliberately showing both him and his partner that I was cooperating with their demands. “Over here, now!”

I moved around the row of teller stations to the swinging gate that would take me into the lobby, where all the patrons were gathered. The first guy was gesturing to everyone to huddle while the second guy stepped through the gate.

“Is the manager in the back?” The question was demanded of me, a threatening tone promising retribution if I lied. I couldn’t make my throat work to answer, so I just swallowed thickly and nodded again. “Go check the back,” he told his partner, who was already heading to the offices. “The rest of you, on the floor. Now!” He bellowed the last word, making everyone jump to obey.

People all around me were dropping to their knees and lying down. I heard whimpers, and someone was crying, though I wasn’t sure who it was. I started to kneel as well when I caught sight of Mrs. Arbuckle. She was pale and shaking, looking down at the floor.

“Mrs. Arbuckle,” I called out to her quietly, fervently wishing for her to just do what the armed bank robber wanted. She lifted her head at me, her eyes wide with fright.

“I—I can’t. My knees…”

The gunman stormed over to where she was standing, shaking like a leaf in the wind. I could see fury in his dark eyes and knew that he wasn’t going to take it easy on the elderly woman. I jumped to my feet as he lifted his gun back and ran in front of her.

As his hand came down and the gun connected with my forehead, I gasped in pain and shock. Immediately, I could feel a tickling sensation where I knew he had split the skin open.

I held up my hands, ready to plead with him to save her life. If he’d hit her instead, she wouldn’t have survived it. “Please,” I begged, a sob breaking through before I could swallow it back. “Let her sit in a chair. If you hurt her, she could die. You can’t kill anyone on top of robbing a bank!”

I hoped it would snap some sense into his brain, and I held my breath as I watched him fuming. He glanced from me to Mrs. Arbuckle, who was barely able to stand as she cried silently.

“Please let me get her a chair,” I pleaded again.

Just then, the manager was shoved through the doorway, his hands in the air. The other gunman had his weapon pointed at the back of his head, occasionally digging it into his scalp. The first guy looked back at me.

“No chair,” he snarled. “She can stand where she is. But you, get on the floor.”

I wasn’t going to argue anymore. I sank to the floor and lay down on the cold marble, turning my head to keep an eye on the elderly woman who looked as if she would collapse at any moment. I closed my eyes and silently begged the police to show up soon.

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