Dr. Coker looked back and forth between Santos and Miguel. “I can’t just leave him.”
Santos swung the gun back around and leveled it at the dentist. “You can if you don’t want this to be your last day cleaning teeth.”
Miguel could see that Dr. Coker was about to protest again. He stepped in to stop him. Of the three of them, he was the only one who knew Santos and his moods. He’d have a better chance of getting him to end this than Dr. Coker would.
“It’s okay,” Miguel forced himself to speak calmly and without any sign of fear. “I’ll be fine. Go ahead and leave, both of you. Please.”
Their nervous, scared gazes darted back and forth between Miguel and Santos, deliberating what they should do. Miguel prodded them along. “Please, go.”
The two of them finally started moving. They were clearly reluctant, and Kendra was crying, but they went over to the door. Kendra unlocked it, and after one final look at Miguel, they left.
“Smart people,” Santos said. He dragged Miguel with him over to the door to relock it, but he left the keys in the lock.
“Now it’s really just the two of us.” The hyena grin reappeared. “What should we do now?”
Miguel swallowed thickly, his throat so dry from fear it clicked.
***
When SWAT arrived on the scene, Hector stayed back as instructed. To the untrained eye, the flashing lights and cops swarming around probably looked like a scene of chaos. But Hector knew that everything was organized. Uniformed officers diverted traffic away from the front of the building and set up a perimeter for the off chance Santos managed to get out of the building and past the inner ring of cops. SWAT’s entry team was in place, ready to move in at Sergeant Stillman’s order.
Hector couldn’t see him, but Brady would be in one of the buildings across the street with his rifle, ready to take a shot if one came open. He doubted that’d be happening. The building was fronted with dark glass, which would cut visibility to zero. He was in the parking lot, and he could barely see a vague outline of four figures. As long as they stayed inside, the sniper wasn’t going to do any good here. It would come down to the negotiator talking Santos out or the entry team rushing the building. With Miguel in the thick of this, Hector hoped the negotiator would prevail.
Hector didn’t know how long he’d been standing there with his eyes locked on the building, his hands clenched into tight fists, and his stomach twisted into knots when the door opened. Hector took an involuntary step forward. A sharp burst of hope made his breath catch in his throat. The dentist and Miguel’s friend Kendra exited the building, and Hector stared at the door, willing Miguel to come out. But the door slammed shut behind the two employees. Santos wasn’t letting Miguel leave.
Sweat pooled in his armpits as his terror ratcheted up to nearly unbearable levels. Santos and Miguel were alone now. Hector knew how these situations normally went down. But he wasn’t even going to entertain the thought that anything bad was going to happen to his love.
His heart in his throat, Hector wanted to demand the team do something more. That they get in there and free Miguel immediately. But they were doing everything by the book, and that was the safest way to bring this hostage standoff to an end. Which meant all Hector could do was wait. And pray…
***
“Prison life isn’t for me.”
Miguel forced a small smile onto his face. He was still in the lobby with Santos. Santos sat slumped against the reception desk while he sat cross-legged an arm’s length away. “C’mon, Santos. You’d be the shit in prison. You have connections in and out. You’ll probably be running the place within the month.”
Santos scoffed. He raised the gun, staring down the barrel. “My life is pretty much over. Might as well end it now.”
His heart pounding, Miguel quickly tried to talk Santos out of this new path he seemed ready to go down. “That’s not true. You’ll do your time and you’ll get out.”
“And come back to what? I’ll have to rebuild my whole life.”
“It’s not as bad as it sounds.”
“Fuck,” Santos swore. “I’ve lost everything. There’s two ways out of this for me. Dead or in cuffs. Either way my life is fucking over.” He raised the gun higher, tapping it against his temple.
“Santos!” Miguel choked back a sob. Santos had abused him for years and terrified him today. He had no love for this man, but he didn’t want to see him put a bullet through his brain. “Please don’t make me watch you end your life. Please.”
Santos looked at him. The smug mania was gone, replaced by weariness and regret. “I love you, you know that?”
Miguel’s throat spasmed as he fought the urge to scream that real love didn’t make you take the object of your affection hostage at gunpoint. This wasn’t over yet, and he had to keep Santos placated until he was safely away from him. “If you love me, end this the right way. Don’t make me have nightmares for the rest of my life. Give me the gun.”
He stood up and held his hand out. It trembled slightly, but he continued to hold it out there, waiting. After several long moments of Miguel’s heart beating so hard it felt like there was a drum in his chest, Santos took his finger off the trigger and thumbed the safety back on. He lowered the gun from his head and stood.
Miguel stayed silent, not wanting to push when this was so close to being over. Finally, Santos held the gun out, butt first. Miguel took the gun, the heavy weight of it and everything it represented nearly making him retch. He walked over and set it down on the end table in the corner of the office, as far from Santos as he could get it without leaving the room. Turning back to his ex, he held his hand out again.
“We’ll go out together, okay?”
Santos didn’t hesitate to reach for his hand. Miguel unlocked the door, slowly pushing it open. He held his free hand out, holding the door open with his hip. “My name is Miguel Delgado! We’re both coming out unarmed,” he called out. An officer gave him instructions over a bull horn, and Miguel carefully followed them, terrified that a wrong move from either him or Santos would lead to a horrifying conclusion.