Page 54 of Tossed into the Mob
Brock waltzed back and gave me a big kiss, saying I was the best husband ever.
“The only husband ever.” It was an effort to get the words out.
“The taller one is anxious to get out of here. I can smell his sweat.” He made a face.
I didn’t understand why the pair didn’t just take the money and go. I wanted this to be over.
My reaction was the opposite of Brock’s, and while my family had been in this business for decades, I’d lived apart from it. My folks had seen to that. Sure, there was always a frisson of danger and excitement if my cousins mentioned business at one of our Sunday dinners, but today was the real thing, and I wasn’t comfortable, especially with Brock being pregnant.
But we fought Riggs and you fired the gun. My beast couldn’t understand my reluctance to be here.
Yes, I was protecting our mate, with the thought that you and I had to give our lives to save him. Here I was useless, because if I brought my beast out, the city would go into lockdown and the world would be in an uproar.
“One of them is anticipating trouble.” Brock drained his soda.
There was tension in Adrian’s shoulders as the shorter guy pointed a finger at him, and he was sweating so much he wiped the back of his neck with a napkin and reached for a glass of water.
Brock gripped my hand, an exaggerated smile on his face. “Honey, don’t you just love that stained-glass window. I want one in our first house.”
I glanced in the direction he was pointing. Shit, the nervous one had a bulge under his jacket. “They’re armed,” I murmured into the mic.
It was Ranger who replied. “To be expected.”
Sure, of course. I knew that. Brock was concerned but not overly anxious.
Adrian reached for his phone, and the shorter guy snapped, “Slowly.” But the nervous one knocked it away and it slammed onto the floor which got the attention of other diners. He then placed his other hand on the gun at his hip.
“My guess is they’re asking for more money.” Brock took a bite of the bread stick, and I jumped as it snapped.
The shorter guy grabbed the other guy’s arm, probably trying to stop the situation from escalating, but other diners were paying attention and beginning to look anxious.
"All teams stand by," Hunter's voice crackled. This was beginning to remind me of TV dramas, especially when the situation imploded.
"We need to do something," Brock said, half rising from his chair
"Our orders are to observe.”
"Forget the orders." Brock was already standing. "Trust me."
Before I could stop him, he was striding toward the kidnappers' table.
"Excuse me," he said as he approached the three men. "I think this is yours."
He held up Adrian’s phone. I was so nervous I hadn’t noticed him picking it up.
The shorter kidnapper looked furious at the interruption, but he couldn't exactly tell Brock to go away without making an even bigger scene. Adrian gave him a grateful smile and took the phone.
"No problem at all!" Brock beamed. “Have a nice lunch. The food here is supposed to be incredible."
"That was brilliant," I told him as he sat down.
"I figured that might tamp down the situation.”
It seemed to have worked.
The kidnappers must have accepted whatever Adrian was saying, and they took the briefcase and left. Hunter and Ranger’s guys would make sure Daphne was released and claim the money.
Adrian waited ten minutes before leaving. Our job was done. Now it was up to the other teams. My mate scarfed his food, saying he’d worked up an appetite.
