Page 98 of Rescuing Mary

He heard Mary shout his name in protest, but he ignored her, all his attention on the bricks of explosives. He quickly yanked two wires out of the bottom row of explosives, hopefully making the inevitable explosion survivable. If it was just him, he’d take his chance with Deuce and the others. But it wasn’t. He had to think about Mary.

Truck turned away and rushed toward her. Other than a small “oof,” she didn’t make a sound, just clung to Truck as hard as she could. He picked her up off her feet and brought her to the far corner of the vault. Placing her down as gently as he could, he said, “Curl up into a ball, Mare. Cover your ears.”

He waited until she did as ordered, then he rushed back for the table in the middle of the room. His only choice was to do what he could to protect them from the explosion that Truck knew was coming any second.

He knocked the now empty boxes and various other things he’d used to set up the explosives to the floor, then tried to lift the table—before realizing it was bolted down. He’d hoped to use it to hide behind. Swearing, he made his way back to Mary.

He gathered her into his arms and wrapped himself around her as best he could. He wanted every inch of her body covered. For the first time, Truck was glad he was as big as he was. He was made this way to protect his woman. He was a big-ass scary dude for this moment right here.

Her hands came up and covered his ears instead of her own, and without picking his head up from where it was tucked against her body, he did the same for her.

He was huddled over the woman he loved, praying harder than he ever had in his life, his entire body tense and waiting for the explosion, when Mary blew his mind.

“I love you,” she whispered.

He didn’t hear her, but he felt the words against his neck.

That was all she said. She didn’t elaborate. Didn’t go on and on about if they didn’t make it out of that vault alive…she just wanted him to know.

It made her words all the more poignant and meaningful.

Truck opened his mouth to reciprocate, when the world around them exploded.

Chapter Fifteen

“Heads-up!” the Delta Force team commander, Colonel Colton Robinson, yelled when he stomped into the meeting room the team was in. “That downtown bank has been held up again. Robbery still in progress.”

Within seconds, Ghost, Fletch, Coach, Hollywood, Beatle, and Blade were on their feet and running for the door. As they ran for their vehicles, their commander told them what he knew.

“Shit’s hit the fan in the city. Fires, robberies, shots fired, and general chaos. The police are in way over their heads and can’t keep up. Dispatch called me when they got reports of something going on at the same bank that was hit last month. Doors are locked and there’s a crude note on the door saying something about training. But one customer saw someone with a gun inside and called it in.”

“Fuck, is this the bank Mary works at?” Fletch asked.

“Truck’s wife? Yeah,” their commander said grimly.

“Truck was there having lunch with her today,” Ghost said. “He called to tell me he’s been getting some of his memory back. He remembers being married to her. Was going to see his doctor after lunch then let me know what he said.”

“Could be good if he’s inside,” Hollywood said.

“Or bad,” Beatle countered. “If whoever is in there knows he’s Army, they might kill him outright.”

“Truck doesn’t exactly look nonthreatening,” Blade added.

“Take the truck,” the commander ordered, throwing a pair of keys to Ghost. “I’ll round up the other team and we’ll meet you there.”

Ghost nodded but didn’t bother to respond. He and the rest of his team peeled off and headed for the deuce-and-a-half truck assigned to their unit.

No one spoke much on the way to the bank. Partly because Ghost was driving like a bat out of hell and they were all holding on for dear life, but also because they were all worried about their friends.

Truck and Mary were like…peas and carrots. Peanut butter and jelly. Cookies and cream. They were meant to be together. They might’ve had their ups and downs, but no one ever doubted they were soul mates.

Mary didn’t seem to see Truck’s scarred face or his big scary countenance, and Truck didn’t give one little shit about Mary’s prickliness. From the first time Mary had stood up to Truck on behalf of Rayne, he’d known she was it for him.

No one could fathom one being without the other. It was unthinkable that neither would be around. It was bad enough Truck had gotten hurt and lost his memory, but at least he was there.

Little Annie needed him. She needed Mary to teach her how to take no shit from anyone.

Fletch’s new baby needed his uncle Truck to look up to.