since Louis had informed me of what Calloway had said about Bailey taking Ares away.
Seventeen minutes that were the longest of my life.
It felt like years had passed and not minutes.
It felt like I was looking at my life, my soul, about to blow up right in front of me.
Literally.
“The bomb squad was called,” Foster murmured.
It was only then that I realized he was talking to me.
“They’ll be here in fifteen minutes.”
Fifteen minutes might be too long.
Fifteen minutes might be…
The door to the field house slammed open so hard that it slammed back closed—or would have had Ares not been forced out of it seconds after it opened.
“No shot,” Louis whispered into my ear. “Door’s in the way.”
“Me neither,” Malachi murmured just as quietly. “He’s using her body, covering anything vital of his. I can’t risk it.”
Malachi and Louis, our two SWAT snipers, were good shots.
For them to say they didn’t have a shot meant bad things.
Very bad things.
Very planned, bad things.
That was when I saw how pissed Ares was.
Though she had a knife to her throat, and Bailey at her back talking quietly into her ear, she had such a ferocious look on her face that I would’ve smiled had this been a different situation.
“I set a bomb!”
Nobody said anything.
“I want a helicopter out of here!” Bailey ordered loudly.
“Why the fuck didn’t he leave when he had the chance?” Adam murmured through the mic. “Nobody would’ve been able to find him. Why here?”
That was a very good question, and one I didn’t have an answer to.
“Agreed,” Ford murmured. “Something’s up.”
I didn’t bother to reply.
Didn’t need to.
Instead, I focused on why here and now.
“A helicopter can’t fly today. It’s too windy,” Saint called over the bullhorn in his hand. “We can get you a car.”
“I don’t want a fucking car! I want a fucking helicopter!”
The wind blew the moment that the words came out of Bailey’s mouth, practically stealing his words from his lips.
“Fuck!” he looked down, shaking Ares. “You’ll drive. Get me a car!”
“Why doesn’t he have a gun?” Adam asked. “Why a knife?”
My sentiments, again, exactly.
Things weren’t adding up.
Then another thought occurred to me.
“Where is Toomey?” I asked. “In the chaos, I forgot to even ask what the fuck happened to him.”
Mister ‘I can protect her.’
I can protect her, my ass.
And why the fuck he let Ares…
I stiffened and turned, taking off at a sprint as I ran into the school. The one and only door that was unlocked was the one that led to the gym in case we needed to utilize it.
Before I knew it, I was hauling ass through the gym and coming out into the forecourt of the high school.
The first thing I heard was a screaming baby.
The next thing was a screaming man.
“Give her to me!”
Following the sound of voices, much slower this time, I made it to the hallway where Ares’ office was located, and stared at the scene in front of me.
I found Toomey standing over a really pissed off looking Slone, who was trying to shield his baby with his entire chest.
“It’s my kid!” Toomey screamed, spittle coming out of his mouth.
My stomach sank to my knees. Both because of Toomey’s words and the implications, and with what I was witnessing.
This wasn’t good.
This wasn’t good at all.
I took my gun out of my holster and leveled it at Toomey.
“Toomey,” I said softly.
Nothing.
“Toomey, back away now. Slowly,” I repeated.
Still nothing.
“Toomey!” I moved closer.
Toomey shook the gun at Slone, even though Slone wasn’t looking up to see Toomey’s frustration.
Instead, he was still curled around the baby—the baby that was screaming her head off at having to be pressed to the floor and contained. He was protecting the girl with his life.
“Give her to me!” Toomey bellowed. “Give her to me, and I won’t shoot you.”
“Toomey,” I said quietly, trying to bring Toomey’s attention to me and not Slone. “Toomey, look at me.”
Toomey didn’t even look up. He was so focused on Slone and the baby that he might as well have not cared at all.
“Toomey,” I moved closer, gun in hand, and repositioned myself for a better angle.
It served