“Is that another fucking lie?”
His heart pounding, Miguel shook his head again. “No. I did. But you scared me too. When you hit me, I was always scared of how far you would take it.”
Santos glared at him like he was offended. “Bullshit, Miguel. I wouldn’t have really hurt you. Maybe I smacked you a few times. But you got out of line and smarted off. That attitude has consequences.”
Miguel hated to agree even a little bit with Santos. He might think domestic violence was okay, but Miguel definitely did not. Still, he had to defuse this situation. “Okay, maybe that wasn’t the worst that could happen between a couple. But this right now with you holding a gun on me definitely is.”
Santos didn’t have anything to say to that.
Miguel dared to take a step closer to his ex. “Santos, you’re here and I’m listening. Why don’t you tell me what you want?” He waited, hoping he could get Santos talking. He hoped Amy had already made it to a phone and called the police. And he hoped like hell Santos wouldn’t realize there were more people in the back.
***
Hector looked at the clock, noting they only had about twenty-five minutes before the end of their shift. Today had been fairly uneventful, a couple of warrants served without any hassle, and no call outs. Still, even knowing Miguel was going to make him sit down and look at more wedding stuff on Pinterest, he was ready to go home. And he’d promised his fiancé that he wouldn’t try to distract him tonight.
Unfortunately, his phone started beeping with a message from dispatch. So did everyone else’s. Hector stood up as their sergeant came out of her office. “So close to freedom,” he joked.
“We have a hostage situation. Suspect tentatively identified as Santos, last name unknown at this time. Three hostages, suspect is armed with at least one weapon. Address is 11432 Frostview Avenue, suite number 105.”
The smile dropped off Hector’s face. There were probably a hundred people named Santos in Houston. But there was only one that would be on Frostview where Miguel worked. Hector grabbed his helmet and the rest of his gear and took off at a sprint. He heard someone shout behind him.
“Hector, what the fuck?”
He didn’t bother to stop or even slow down to answer. “That’s Miguel’s work address! And Santos is his fucking ex,” he yelled back over his shoulder. Too impatient to wait for the elevator, he charged down the stairs, determined to get in the Bear and get to the scene as soon as possible. The sound of booted feet pounding their way down the steps echoed in the stairwell as his team rushed after him. Hector burst into the garage just as the truck pulled up. But before he could get in, Jody stepped in front of him.
“Hector, I’m going to need you to stand down on this one.”
“What?”
“The hostage is your fiancé and the gunman his ex. Your emotions are running too high to be effective on this.”
Hector’s nostrils flared as he faced off with his sergeant. “My fucking emotions are fucking fine. And you’re out of your mind if you think I’m not going to be there to help Miguel.”
“I’m not telling you you can’t go. But you’re not on entry team and you’re not taking any shots. You’re strictly an observer. If things go bad, I don’t want there to be any concern that it was because of your personal involvement.”
Hector looked away, his jaw tight. Jody was right but he hated admitting it. He was liable to walk up to the building, kick in the door, and blow Santos’s head off. He spoke from between clenched teeth. “Fine. I’ll stand down.”
She clapped a hand on his shoulder. “We’ll handle this.”
Hector nodded. “Thank you, Sergeant,” he said, nearly choking on the words.
Once she moved away, Ryan spoke up. “We will get Miguel out of this safely and quickly. I promise you that.”
“Miguel is our priority. Don’t give a shit about the other guy,” Clay said.
Too scared and filled with rage to speak, Hector simply nodded his thanks. Inside the BearCat, he closed his eyes and dropped his head back against the side of the truck. All he could see in his mind was Miguel, terrified and held at gunpoint by that asshole, Santos. Hector took a deep breath, forcing that image away. Stillman was right; his head wasn’t cool at all. Acknowledging that helped him calm down somewhat. He opened his eyes and finally spoke to his friends. “Thanks, guys. I’m trusting you with my life.”
Each of his teammates nodded. They knew he wasn’t referring to his own life, but to Miguel. Miguel was his life, his love, and he wasn’t going to lose him like this.
***
Everything seemed like it should be a normal evening at the end of a long work day. Miguel could hear the hum of rush hour traffic outside. The office was quiet, all the patients were gone and the piped-in radio was already off for the night. He should be calmly going over the scheduling for the next day. Instead, he stood there with cold sweat trickling down his spine, fear a thick lump in his throat, as he stared across the small lobby at his ex-boyfriend and the gun he held.
“Talk to me, Santos. What can I do to make you put that gun down?”
“You can tell me why you left me and why you chose that cop over me!”
Miguel wasn’t sure what to say. He’d already explained that he’d left because of Santos’s abuse. But apparently Santos wasn’t accepting that. He’d have to try again and in a way that didn’t make Santos feel like he was less of a man than Hector.