Midnight Hero - By Diana Duncan Page 0,32
the bottle and toss back ibuprofen like M&Ms.”
“That’s why she took up rowing, to work off stress.”
“She must have had to row to the Pacific Ocean and back.”
He hesitated at the entrance to the mall and checked both directions. “Have you ever thought about how many kids you might eventually want?” The question was casual, his tone and body language anything but.
Con’s babies. She’d dreamed of them. Thought they were out of her reach. Longing twisted deep inside. “I always hated being an only child. Too lonely. I wouldn’t mind three or four.”
He smiled. “Four is a nice, even number. Like my brothers and me.”
“Unleashing more male O’Rourkes on an unsuspecting world…what a terrifying thought!” She wrinkled her nose at him. “I think you’d better hope for four girls.”
“Little girls are a different kind of trouble.” He trailed a callused fingertip along her ear, sending tingles racing down her spine. “So are big girls.”
“Not nearly as much trouble as big boys.”
“That’s the fourth time you’ve mentioned size. Have a fixation, darlin’?”
Warmth surged into her cheeks. “Guess you didn’t get the memo. Size doesn’t matter.”
“Whew.” He put his hand over his heart and heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Wouldn’t want to disappoint.”
She snorted. “Stop fishing for compliments. I’ve got eyes.”
He arched a brow, and her cheeks blazed. Gad. How did they end up in these impossible discussions? In the midst of sneaking around trying to avoid bank robbers, yet. “Never mind. Let’s go.”
As they made their way down the dead escalators, dread inched up her spine. Just like when she’d walked toward the bank, her senses shrieked unease. By the time they arrived at the One Hour Photo booth, every muscle screamed with tension, and the hair on the back of her neck was standing on end.
“Con,” she whispered. “Something’s wrong.”
“I know. I feel it, too.”
Were the robbers waiting to ambush them? She peered around the corner into the shadows, but didn’t see any movement. She propped her hand on the wall to steady herself and connected with something wet and sticky. The overhanging eaves had protected the booth’s vinyl walls from the sprinklers. Whatever she’d planted her palm in wasn’t water. Some kid’s leftover slushy? Ugh!
She stared at her hand in the murky light. The wet, sticky goo was thick and dark. Chocolate? She took an experimental sniff. The sharp, metallic smell could never be confused with chocolate. Her stomach lurched.
Her palm was covered with blood!
Chapter 6
4:00 p.m.
“Con!” Bailey’s frantic whisper jolted Con’s thrumming senses into overdrive. “Blood!”
He whipped around. She held up her red-streaked palm, and his lungs constricted. He grabbed her wrist. “What happened?”
“It’s not mine.”
The weight lifted from his chest. “Where did it come from?”
“It’s all over the side of the kiosk. Look.”
His gaze followed a trail of droplets splattered across the floor. The sprinklers hadn’t completely erased the watery red marks from the pale gray fake marble. Where the water hadn’t reached, the trail was dark and deadly. “We’d—” Movement registered in his peripheral vision. Someone was out there! He flashed her the hand signal for silence, followed by down.
An armed man wearing camouflage slunk into view. Without taking his gaze off the guy, Con eased his pack to the floor. His jacket followed. The robber hadn’t seen them.
Yet.
The photo booth was centrally located in the main hall. The man was searching store by store, Uzi at the ready. They were trapped. Con gripped his bat and formulated a plan. Flight wasn’t an option. He had no choice but to fight.
His muscles tensed, ready for combat. Balanced on the balls of his feet, he concentrated on breathing evenly and visually tracking the robber’s progress. Learning his enemy’s body language. Gauging his experience. Waiting for exactly the right moment.
As he’d told Bailey, timing was everything.
The sucker was at least a head taller than he. And ripped. The second Incredible Hulk of the day. What kind of vitamins were these dudes chugging? Gigantor wore a Kevlar vest, Kevlar hood and carried an Uzi. Con had a baseball bat, determination and the element of surprise.
Behind him, palpable waves of terror rolled off Bailey. She vibrated with fear. He wanted to hold her, reassure her, but couldn’t. He didn’t blame her for being afraid. If he failed, she’d be on her own. At the robber’s mercy.
There was nothing he could do to ease her distress. Still watching the approaching man, his grip on the bat tightened. Focus.
Failure was not an option.
He ruthlessly shoved everything from his mind except the approaching battle.