Finn

Copyright © 2016 by Ahren Sanders

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording, or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law.

This book is a work of fiction. All names, characters, locations and incidents are products of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, locales or events is entirely coincidental.

Editing: Kendra Gaither at Kendra’s Editing and Book Services
Cover Photo: Scott Hoover, Scott Hoover Photography
Cover Model: Keith Kirkwood
Cover Design: Melissa @MG BookCovers and Designs
Formatting: Erik Gevers

Finn

Y
ou’ve got to be fucking kidding me. This dumbass loser is responsible for all this madness?

“He’s a fucking junkie,” I hiss into the mic at my chest, watching the man in the other room pace while waving his gun in the air. He spins every few seconds, aiming the gun at anyone who whimpers. “He’s cagey. I can see his pupils from here. He’s coming down from a high.”

“He’s a goddamn wild card,” Robbie crawls up beside me and says into his own mic. “Totally your call, but I wouldn’t recommend storming in with the state of mind he’s in.”

There’s a crackle in our ears as the police lieutenant sounds through. “You boys see any of my men?”

“Affirmative, see the men rounding the building now. I’d be careful about that. This idiot’s already angry. Last thing we need to do is provoke him with a loaded gun and a room full of hostages.” Robbie tries again to reason with the highly pissed off officer outside.

“If I want your opinion, I’ll ask for it. Now shut up and stand back. Let us do our jobs. Still don’t know why Hayes Security is even on the scene.”

Robbie and I roll our eyes, having heard this same statement at almost every situation we walk into. No one seems to want us around, but yet, here we are again.

“They’re here because your boss called me this morning. We run the security on this entire building, and seeing as this madman has captives in the bank, we thought it imperative we act fast. Lose the attitude, Lieutenant. I haven’t had enough coffee to deal with your ego this morning.” James Hayes, Robbie’s dad, my boss, and the owner of Hayes Security, cuts through the communications line, obviously irritated.

“Tell me about it. I was sitting down to enjoy a latte and donut when the call came in,” I joke, knowing it’s going to piss off any of the police listening.

“You think this is funny, Black?” Another voice I don’t recognize comes through.

“Actually, no, I don’t think this is funny. I think it’s boring. If y’all don’t mind, let’s get this show on the road. I have a statistics exam in a few hours.”

This earns a chuckle from Robbie and a few others listening in.

“Heads up, boys. I’ve got a call coming in. Stick with the plan. Only reason to move is to ensure safety of the hostages, got me?”

We confirm with James and watch the junkie holding the gun. The phone on one of the desks rings, and he jumps, waving the gun erratically. He points at the desk and shoots.

A woman nearest to him screams, and he kicks her in the stomach repeatedly, yelling at her to shut up. She starts to cry, and he whips her across the face. The security guard on duty makes a move, but the junkie is quick, aiming the gun at him.

That’s our sign. Robbie and I have an unspoken agreement; any kind of violence is unacceptable, but violence on women won’t be tolerated.

“James, he’s losing it. We’re doing this our way.”

“What the fuck does that mean?” someone asks.

“You got a read on the situation? We’ve got two men in place, waiting on the signal.” James ignores the questions firing at him and speaks directly to Robbie and me.

We give each other a nod, and Robbie moves quickly. “Give us sixty and send ‘em in.”

Lieutenant Happy starts cussing and threatens arrest if we don’t stand down. I think he spouts something about obstruction of justice, but I pull out my ear bud and move. Robbie slips through the door of the office we’re in unnoticed, and gets in place.

“Hey, dickhead!” I call out, and the man’s whole body goes solid. He looks around frantically but doesn’t spot me.

“You can’t see me, but I can see you. I’ll give you one chance to put the gun down and surrender.”

“Who the hell are you?”

“I’m a regular citizen who’s pissed you interrupted my morning with this pathetic attempt at a bank robbery.”

“Come out here!”

“You gonna put that gun down?”

“Fuck no!” He lifts the woman at his feet by the back of her sweater and shields himself, pointing the gun to her side.

What a fucking coward. Now he’s pissed me off.

“Okay, have it your way.” I look at my watch and see the timing is right. I’ve kept him stalled for almost forty-five seconds. Right on cue, Robbie takes a shot in the air, which scares the man enough to loosen his grip on the woman, and she drops back to the ground.

I step into the room, and he aims at me, firing off twice before Robbie shoots him in the leg. I drop and roll, wincing as I land on my side and feel the jab in my ribs. The police at the door swarm in and get to the man on the ground holding his leg.

“You okay?” Robbie offers me his hand, and I gladly take it, using his weight to help me up.

“Yeah, but I like internal security a hell of a lot better than this shit. I’m getting too old.”

“That’s bullshit.”

“Good job, guys.” James comes up and pats us both on the back. “I’ll handle the police. Why don’t you two take the rest of the day off?”

“I’ll take you up on that.” I hand him all my communications equipment. “I thought the most dangerous thing on my agenda today was the interpretation of a statistical model. Not some gun-wielding druggie.”

“Hayes! Black!” a voice booms through the room.

“That’s my cue to go.” I duck and sneak out before I have to face the rant of yet another official that doesn’t like to be shown up by a security specialist.

Things like this don’t happen often, but when they do, James deals with the fallout. I don’t shy away from the face of danger, and anyone who thinks I should can kiss my ass.

The clock on the dashboard reads eight forty-five am. Plenty of time to study before my real day starts.

Presley

I walk up the front porch of my childhood home and sigh in disappointment. There’s a creaking to my right, and I hang my head in exhaustion. This is not the way I hoped my night would end.

“Hey, Pres, how was your date?”

“Are you waiting up for me, Simon?”

“Nope, just enjoying a beer. Want one?” He points to the small cooler at his feet.

I grab one and join him on the porch swing. We sway back and forth in silence for a few minutes, him waiting me out.

“It sucked,” I tell him what he already knows. “I hoped this guy would be different.”

“Why would he be different when you keep picking the same guy in different clothing?”

“Simon!”

“No, really, the last three guys you’ve gone out with have the exact same pedigree but different names and different clothes. They’re all boring, somewhat self-centered, and way too reserved.”

“There’s nothing wrong with being reserved. I like reserved. It means they think before they act. Decision making skills are important in a relationship.”

He starts to choke and spits his beer out. I pat him on the back, and he shakes his head, trying to catch his breath.

“You realize you just explained your dating life as if you were picking out carpet. Completely emotionless.”

I try to argue, but it’s useless because he’s right.

“I guess I’m boring. I don’t need any high thrills. Stability is important.”

“Stability is safe, and you’ve played it safe forever.”