Overwhelming Force

“No, I’ll talk to them—”

Laura flinched as one of the two men, the loud one, let out a loud string of obscenities. “Shut up over there!” he yelled, pacing more wildly.

Samantha looked up from her coloring. “He said a bad word,” she whispered to Laura.

He’d said a bunch of them. Laura wasn’t sure which one the girl meant.

“You’re not supposed to say shut up,” Samantha stated primly, then went back to her coloring.

Laura couldn’t help but smile. It was nice to meet a kid whose definition of foul language revolved around the words shut up.

She had to get Brooke and her two beautiful daughters out of here. She knew drawing the men’s attention to her by asking them to release Brooke and the girls could be dangerous. Laura had no idea what the men wanted. To be honest she wasn’t even sure these men knew exactly what they wanted.

The local police had tried calling the bank. The men had made the employees unplug all the phones and then had hit the assistant manager on the head with their gun. The man was conscious but still had blood oozing down the side of his face. They’d forced everyone to put their cell phones in a trash can and placed it in the middle of the room.

If the robbers decided to start killing hostages, Laura didn’t want to put herself at the front of the line. But she sure as hell wasn’t going to let Brooke do it. And now that there was no way the police could contact the men to see what they wanted, Laura didn’t know how the police could help.

She reached over and squeezed Brooke’s hand.

“Laura, wait, don’t—”

Laura was standing up when a knock on the bank’s front door suddenly drew everyone’s attention. She didn’t have a good angle to take in the whole scene but could see the upheld arms of a man standing there. She quickly sat back down.

The robbers went ballistic.

“Who are you? What do you want?” one screamed at the person at the door, voice shrill.

“We’ll kill everyone in here. Every last one of them. Get away!”

The man outside didn’t move except to gesture to them to unlock the door.

The two men began frantically talking between themselves. Laura couldn’t hear all of it, but knew one of the men at least understood that the man at the door was a hostage negotiator.

Hopefully the guy was a good one.

Finally the two men broke apart from their huddle. The negotiator was still standing arms upstretched by the entrance. Laura still couldn’t see his face.

“You.” One of the hostage-takers pointed over to the bank manager. “Get over here and open the door.”

The manager got shakily to his feet and walked to the door gathering a large ring of keys from his pocket. The robber got behind him, using the man as a human shield, and put the gun directly to the manager’s temple.

The baby started fussing and Laura reached over to hold her so Brooke could get out another bottle. Plus, if bullets started flying Brooke could grab Samantha and Laura could try to protect the baby.

“You better pray that this guy doesn’t try anything. Because you’ll be dead before you hit the floor if he does. Open it just a crack,” the man holding the manager said.

The manager nodded as he put the key in the door. Rivers of sweat rolled down his face. The room remained silent.

“P-please don’t do anything,” the manager said to the man outside. “He’ll kill me if you do anything.”

“Nah, no plans to do anything to make anybody nervous.” The negotiator’s voice was clear and friendly. And oddly familiar to Laura. “I swear to you all, I am unarmed and just here to talk. To see what we can work out. To find a solution where all of us get out of here without getting hurt.”

“How do I know you’re not armed?” the robber yelled from behind the manager, keeping his head down.

“I’m going to reach down now and lift up my shirt and turn around. You’ll see. No weapon at all. No earpiece. Nothing.”

She still couldn’t see his face, but Laura and the rest of the bank were treated to the sight of rock-solid abs as the man lifted his shirt and turned around slowly. Under any other circumstances Laura would’ve just enjoyed the view.

“You could have a gun in your pants,” the other man said. “An ankle holster or something. We’re not stupid.”

“No, you’re right. You’re smart to think of that. Most people wouldn’t.”

The negotiator was good. He’d already tuned in to what the robbers needed to hear: that they were smart, in control. The man ripped off his shirt and dropped it to the ground.

“I’m going to take off my jeans, okay? Not trying to give anyone a show, but you’re smart to check and make sure I really don’t have any weapons.”

Strong muscular legs came into view as the man kicked off his boots and socks and then took off his jeans. Black boxer briefs were all that was left on the negotiator. Laura sort of hoped the robbers would let him in, not only so he could negotiate them out of this mess, but so she could see his face. Would it be as impressive as the rest of him?

“Miss Laura—” Samantha giggled “—that man only has his underwear on.”

Laura smiled. “I know, sweetie. He’s silly.” She bounced the baby on her legs, thankful she wasn’t crying anymore.

“So as you can see,” the negotiator continued, “no weapons. Well, one, if you know what I mean. But I generally only bring that one out for the ladies.” Laura could hear the smile in his voice. “Do you mind if I come in and talk? It’s a nice day but still a little chilly out here in just my drawers.”

“Fine,” the guy behind the bank manager finally said. “Get in here. But if you do anything suspicious at all, I’ll start killing people.”

The guy grabbed his pile of clothes and quickly squeezed through the door. The manager relocked it and the bad guy got away from the danger of the door and pointed his gun at the negotiator.

Laura could feel her jaw literally drop when she got her first full look at him.

Standing there in his boxer briefs was Joe Matarazzo.

She never thought she would see him again. Had hoped she would never see him again. And now it looked like her life was in his hands.

Just went to prove that behind every worst-case scenario, there was a worse worst-case scenario.

* * *

JOE KNEW HE would never hear the end of this little striptease from his Omega colleagues. But he’d been certain he couldn’t get into the bank any other way. These two guys were paranoid, frantic. Joe knew immediately he needed to put himself in a position of seeming to be the beta. Let them feel like they were alpha.

Joe’s pride, his true feelings, his personality, didn’t matter. All that mattered was getting everyone out of the bank safely.

If they had asked him to take off his boxers, he would’ve done that, too. But he was glad they hadn’t.

Joe quickly assessed one half of the bank as he put his jeans back on. The bank manager seemed scared to death and had some bruising on the side of his face—probably took a punch—but otherwise appeared fine. An injured man, also a bank employee, sat propped up against the wall. Looked like he also had received a blow to the side of the face. Bloody, but not life-threatening.

All the bank employees being alive was a good sign. It meant these two guys probably didn’t want to hurt anyone. Probably had planned to rob the bank and things had escalated.

No one was dead yet, so that meant there was a very good chance that Joe could get everyone out unharmed.

“I’m Joe, by the way,” he told the two men as he pulled his shirt back over his head.

“You expect us to tell you our names so you can get a bunch of information on us? No way, man.” Both men had their weapons aimed directly at Joe.

Joe wanted to point out the flaws in their logic: how was he supposed to get any information? He’d just gotten almost naked in front of them so they knew he didn’t have any communication devices. And even if he did, what would a bunch of information do versus two very real guns?

But pointing out the logic flaws would only put them more on the defensive.

“No, nothing like that. I was just wondering what to call you.”

“You can call me Ricky and him Bobby,” the older of the two men said, sneering.

Joe recognized Ricky Bobby. “Yeah, I saw that movie.” Joe smiled. “The kids, Walker and Texas Ranger. Hilarious. Anchorman was my favorite though.”

The men’s weapons lowered just the slightest bit. Good. Just keep them thinking about Will Ferrell and movies. Based on their coloring and size, Joe guessed Ricky and Bobby to be brothers.

He turned casually in the opposite direction so he could see the other half of the bank as he crouched down to put his shoes back on.

There were the kids. Good. A little girl alternating between coloring and watching what was going on and a baby in her mom’s lap. Joe glanced at the mom’s face to see how she was holding up.

And found the angry eyes of Laura Birchwood.

Joe felt the air leave his lungs.

Man, she hadn’t changed at all in the six years since he’d seen her, well, except for the two kids part. She still had wavy brown hair and a face more interesting than it was traditionally pretty. But it was still the face he’d never been able to ever get out of his mind.

The pain that assaulted him at the knowledge that Laura had moved on so completely from him took him by surprise. She obviously had found herself a husband and had a couple of kids, given the cute little baby who bounced on her knees.

After what he’d said to her when their relationship ended, Joe couldn’t blame her for moving on. It still hurt like hell though.

Joe stood from putting on his boots and looked at the two men. He needed to focus.

“Ricky, Bobby, I want to help you guys. They sent me in here to figure out what we can do to work this out peaceful-like.” He carefully didn’t use the word cops in case that was some sort of trigger word for the two men “There’s nothing that has been done here yet that makes the situation terrible. You guys and I can walk out of here right now and everything can be made right.”

That wasn’t totally accurate. Ricky and Bobby would be doing some jail time for this little stunt. But it would be much worse if they killed someone. Joe didn’t really think they were just going to walk out with him, but it was worth a shot.

“No,” Ricky said. “They’ll shoot us as soon as we come out. Or at least arrest us.”

“Nobody wants to shoot you. I promise you that,” Joe quickly interjected. He needed to keep the level of paranoia as low as possible.

“Well, we’re not going out there. Not until we have what we need.” Bobby looked over at the bank manager.

Okay, so they did want something. Probably money. That was good, something Joe could work with, something he could talk to them about.

Something that provided him leverage.

“That sounds reasonable. Is what you need going to hurt anybody?”

If what they needed was to blow up a bank full of people while the press was watching to make some sort of political or religious statement, then it was going to be time for Joe to pull out the sunglasses to signal SWAT awfully quick. But Ricky and Bobby didn’t seem to be the political statement types.

“No,” Bobby said. “What we want is ours. We just want it back.”

To the side, Joe heard Laura’s baby start to cry. He needed to get her and the children out of here. Right now. He couldn’t stand the thought of Laura being hurt again. Or especially her innocent children.

Joe had hurt her enough once. Maybe he could begin to make that right by getting her and her family out of danger.

“Alright, I can do that. That’s why I was sent in here. To see what it is you need and help find a way to get it for you. That’s my only job here, figuring out a way this can end okay for everyone.”

Again, that wasn’t actually true, but the baby’s cries were getting louder. Ricky and Bobby both turned to glare at the child and Joe briefly thought of trying to take both of them down physically himself, but he decided not to risk it. Somebody might get hurt. Plus, it was too early in the negotiation process. If Joe broke their trust now, he would not get it back.

“She’s got to shut that kid up,” Bobby told Ricky.

“Listen, guys...” Joe took a small step closer so they would turn their attention—and weapons—back on him and away from Laura’s side of the room. “I think we can solve a couple of problems here with one action.”

“What are you talking about?” Bobby’s eyes narrowed.

“Like you said, that baby is a huge headache. Plus the people outside—” Joe again was careful not to call them law enforcement or police “—would take it as a sign of good faith if you let the kids and their mom go. Works for everyone. You get rid of a screaming baby, and the people outside know you’re reasonable. Win/win. You’ve still got plenty of people left in here for whatever you need to do.”

Bobby looked over at his older brother and Ricky finally nodded. Joe felt like a hundred-pound weight had been lifted off his chest. Now, no matter what happened, at least Laura and her kids would be safe.

Keeping his eyes on Ricky and Bobby, Joe motioned for Laura and the kids to come over.

“Get the manager to open the door again,” Ricky told him, so Joe turned to the man. The heavyset manager got to his feet and moved to the door.

Joe turned back to reassure Laura as best he could but found another woman taking the baby from her. Clutching the infant in one arm and holding the hand of the little girl in the other, she made her way to Joe.

“You’re their mom?” Joe asked. “I thought the other lady was holding the baby.”

“She was just helping me,” the woman whispered. “Thank you for getting us out.”

Joe squeezed her shoulder. “When the door opens, walk straight across the street. Don’t stop for anything.”

The woman nodded.

“Okay, are we ready?” he asked.

Joe turned to Ricky and Bobby and fought back a shudder when he saw that Bobby now had Laura held right in front of him in a choke hold, gun pointed at her temple.

“If anyone does anything I don’t like, I’ll put a bullet in her,” Bobby said.

Joe ground his teeth. It took quite a lot to get him to lose his cool, but he was finding that a gun to Laura’s temple did it very quickly. He forced the anger down. He needed to stay calm.

The manager opened the door and Joe watched as the woman sprinted across the street, the little girl doing her best to keep up. They were safe. He squeezed the shoulder of the bank manager as he relocked the door.

“Thank you for not trying to run,” Joe said in a low voice. The man could’ve taken off when the door was open. Could’ve saved himself at the cost of other lives. Joe had seen it happen before.

“I couldn’t let them kill someone else because of me.” The manager rubbed his hands down his pant legs. “But I can’t give them what they want. I don’t have what they need.”

Joe’s smile suggested a calm he didn’t really feel. “We’ll work it out.”

Joe finally felt like he could breathe again when Bobby had released Laura and she had sat back down against the wall. She didn’t seem to be hurt in any way or even too scared.

As a matter of fact her hazel eyes were all but spitting daggers at Joe. She looked like she might grab Bobby’s gun and shoot Joe herself.

Joe winced. Guess she hadn’t forgiven him for what he’d said to her six years ago.

He didn’t blame her. And he had to admit, as much as he wanted Laura safely out of harm’s way, his heart had actually leaped in his chest—seriously, he’d felt the adrenaline rush through him—when he realized those children belonged to another woman. Not Laura.

It was time to get this situation resolved so he could move on to more important things. Like talking Laura into dinner with him.

He had a feeling that might take more negotiation skills than even he possessed.

Chapter Three

Joe Matarazzo working in law enforcement. Who would’ve ever figured that would happen? Certainly not Laura.

But she had to admit, he had quite deftly handled the situation in the bank with Ricky and Bobby. They had come there to steal the last remaining copy of their father’s will.

Evidently dear old dad had realized what jerks his sons had become and had decided to leave his “fortune” as Ricky and Bobby called it, a sum of just over twelve thousand dollars, to the local 4-H club.

Two grown men had broken into a bank, held sixteen people—including children—hostage, and had threatened to kill them all to get a will. A will that ultimately would only get them twelve thousand dollars if they were successful.

The perfect storm of idiocy.

The bank manger hadn’t had the other key. Every safe-deposit box needed two keys and the manager only had one. That’s when the problem had escalated. Ricky and Bobby thought they could just come in, show some ID and have the box opened. But not without the second key.

Demanding the manager open it by pointing a gun at his head hadn’t changed the situation. He still couldn’t open it with only his one key.

Somehow Bobby and Ricky just hadn’t understood that. They got loud. Someone called the cops and next thing they knew they had a hostage situation on their hands.

Laura had no idea what would’ve happened if Joe hadn’t shown up and defused the situation.

He’d sat down with the two men and the bank manager. The manager swore he would open the safe-deposit box if he could, but that the bank had put security measures in place long ago that required two keys. It’s what kept managers from being able to walk in at any time and take anything they wanted from the boxes.

Finally Joe was able to make Ricky and Bobby understand that. He’d then helped them figure out where their dead father’s key might be. Explained they needed to surrender so they could come back to the bank another time.

That time was going to be after years in prison, and by then the 4-H club was going to have some pretty nice 4-Hing equipment, or whatever a 4-H club used money for, but Joe had left that part out.

Both men had exited with Joe and had been immediately taken into custody. Everyone inside could hear Ricky and Bobby screaming at Joe, claiming he’d lied about being arrested. Joe hadn’t lied, he just hadn’t announced all the particulars of the truth. As a lawyer, Laura could appreciate the difference.

Cops and medical workers then rushed into the bank to see who needed help. As they tended to people, Laura watched with a sort of amazed detachment as one of the large air-conditioning grates on a wall about ten feet off the ground moved and a small woman, in full combat gear and rifle, eased her way out, hung as far as her arms would allow her, then dropped to the ground.

She’d been there, probably since not long after Joe arrived, silently ready to move in if things had gotten desperate.

But they hadn’t, thanks to Joe.

The woman had just made a quiet sweep of the area with her eyes then walked out the front door. Most of the people inside didn’t even notice her.

A uniformed police officer entered and made an announcement. “People, I’m Sheriff Richardson. Right now we’re just trying to ascertain who is injured. If you have any wounds at all, or feel like you’re having any chest pains or anything like that, please let us know so we can get a medic to attend to you immediately.”

Laura’s chest hurt a little bit, but she was pretty sure that was indigestion caused from seeing Joe again.

“Otherwise we ask that you stay in the immediate area of the bank so we can take your statement. Certainly you are free to go outside and get some fresh air. Also to call anyone you need to let them know you’re okay. This event will make the supper-time news, for sure, and you won’t want any family worrying about you.”

Laura doubted her parents or brother would hear about this back in Huntsville, Alabama, but she would text them anyway and let them know she was okay. She would not mention the fact that Joe Matarazzo had gotten her out of the situation safely. Her dad and brother might catch the first flight to Denver and take Joe out themselves.

They’d have to get in line behind her.

The image of Joe stripped down to his boxers and smiling charmingly at the two hostage-taking morons popped into her head unbidden.

Damn, he still looked good. Nothing about that had changed, not that she would’ve expected it to. His tall, lithe body was absolutely drool-worthy: broad shoulders, hard abs that all but begged you to run your fingers over them, trim hips that eased down into long, strong legs.

And that face. Crystal blue eyes and strong, sharp cheekbones and a chin that gave strength to a face that would’ve otherwise been too pretty. Brown hair with natural sandy highlights, straight, a little long with a half curl that always fell over his forehead.

And his smile. Joe Matarazzo had a quick, easy smile for everyone. The man loved to smile, and had gorgeous sensuous lips and perfect teeth to back up his propensity.

His cheeks were clean-shaven now, but Laura knew firsthand how quickly the stubble would grow and exactly how the roughness of his cheeks would feel as he kissed her all over her body.

She stopped the thought immediately. For six years she’d been stopping those types of thoughts immediately. Instead she fast-forwarded to the last memory she’d had of Joe. Him standing outside her apartment and telling her their relationship wasn’t going to work anymore.

That he’d liked her and all, and the last couple of months had been great, but that, let’s face it, she just wasn’t the caliber of woman someone like Joe—with his money and connections and good looks and charm—would be in a long-term relationship with.

Mic drop. Matarazzo out.

Laura could make those little jokes now, almost without wincing. Six years ago she’d just wanted to crawl under a rock and die. Joe may not have used those actual words, but basically said she wasn’t attractive enough for him. Silly her, she’d thought the fact that they’d always had a delightful time together, had the same quirky sense of humor and wonderful conversations had meant something. For the six months they had dated, Joe had led her to believe that he thought it was true, too. Until he just changed his mind out of the blue and ended it.

Not the caliber of woman...

So no, she was not going to let the sight of Joe Matarazzo in just his skivvies get her hot and bothered.

“Um, ma’am?”

Laura looked over at the young police officer who had evidently been trying to get her attention for a few moments.

“Yes?”

“Were you hurt in any way? Perhaps a head injury?” The young officer looked confused.

The only damage to Laura’s head was in her thoughts about Joe. “No, I’m fine. Just reliving the situation. It’s a little painful.” She didn’t state which situation.

“Do you feel up to giving me your statement? Otherwise we can have you come down to the station tomorrow.”

Laura shook her head. No, she didn’t want to have to come back. She gave the officer her statement, telling how Ricky and Bobby entered while she was finishing a meeting with the bank manager to get his signature on some financial paperwork for a client.

If Laura had just beelined it for the door she wouldn’t have gotten caught in the hostage mess at all. But then she thought of Brooke and little Samantha and the baby. Laura had been glad she’d been able to help them.

The officer took down Laura’s information and told her they’d be in touch if they needed anything else, and that she shouldn’t hesitate to contact them if she thought of something more she remembered. She was free to go.

Now all she had to do was make it to her car and get away without having to talk to Joe at all. Not that he’d try to talk to her. After all, what was there left to say?

She supposed she could thank him for doing a good job today and getting them all out alive. She’d been especially impressed at how he’d immediately gotten Brooke and her girls out.