Irish Sex Fairy: Ellora's Cave by Kelly Jamieson (the lemonade war series TXT) 📕

“But—” She began to climb to her feet, but he sprang at her and knocked her back down. The hard floor smacked her butt and her breath whooshed out of her.

Oh God. Frantic thoughts tumbled around in her head. What was he doing here? Why was he doing this? Was he crazy? How could she have never noticed he was psycho?

“You fired me.” Sweat dripped down his face, flushed cheeks grizzled with gray stubble. Thick gray brows lowered over his eyes as he stared at her. Her stomach clenched. The gun still watched her with that steady eye. “You ruined my life. And my family’s life.”

Keara’s mouth quivered and she swallowed painfully. “It was a business decision,” she choked out. “It was nothing against you personally, Gary. I had to make cuts. It came from head office. This branch hasn’t been performing well.”

“That’s why they transferred you here, isn’t it? That’s why they made you manager. A hatchet lady.”

She shook her head, but it was more or less true. She had been charged with turning the branch around when made manager a year ago. She’d spent the last year working her ass off, trying to improve the branch’s performance and minimize the cuts that had to be done. She stared at him.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I had to do it. They wanted twenty positions cut. I got it down to eight. Only eight people had to go.” And Gary had been one of them.

“Great,” he sneered. “That doesn’t help me, does it?”

She licked her lips.

A warbling ring tone came from his pocket and they both froze. Still holding the gun with his right hand, he reached for the phone, slowly brought it out and flipped it open. “Yeah?”

Keara’s stomach churned. She could only hear one side of the conversation.

“I want the money,” he snapped. His eyes shifted to Keara and then he stepped away from her, paced up and down the hall in the back of the bank. “I won’t kill her if I get the money.”

It must be the SWAT team again. They’d talked to him earlier on the bank phone, when he’d given them directions about where to park a car for him to leave with the money. With her.

Her stomach tightened along with every quivering muscle in her body. God. She was going to die. Right here, right now. She was only thirty-one years old.

“How’d you know who I am?” he demanded into the phone.

Keara resisted the urge to look at the security camera up high in the corner of the room. Gary had been a security guard. Did he not remember it was there? The police were probably watching them. She closed her eyes briefly then opened them again as he spoke.

“I’m not telling you that,” he snarled into the phone. “Have you got the car ready? ’Cause Miss Callaghan and I are coming out in a few minutes.” A pause. “Yeah, I said an hour. But now I know I can’t trust you, I’m coming out sooner. With the money.” He looked at her. “Right, Miss Callaghan?”

She stared at him. What was she supposed to do? What?

Gary was listening to the voice at the other end of the phone line. “Of course I can do it. After what she did to me, it won’t be hard to put a bullet in her head.”

Oh. Oh no. She swept a hand over her hair, loosened from its usual low ponytail she wore to work. Would he really do it? She could not believe the man she’d worked with for almost a year, who’d greeted her every day with a cheerful good morning, would actually shoot her. But this man…was not Gary. He was different. Desperate. Tense. Oh Lord.

“What do I care?” he said. “I got nothing to live for.” Another pause. “Yeah. But she doesn’t even know who I am anymore.” His voice cracked. “I just wanna make sure she’s gonna be okay.”

Keara swallowed. Who was he talking about? Clearly it wasn’t her, since he’d just said he’d shoot her in the head. Her brain turned frantically. His wife? Had she heard something about his wife being sick? How bad was it? Why would he do this?

“Just get the car ready. Fifteen minutes.” He snapped the phone shut and shoved it into the pocket of the navy windbreaker he wore.

He gestured with the gun. “Get over there.”

She scuttled into the corner.

He pulled out a shopping bag from another pocket. “Let’s put the money into this.”

“I can’t do that, Gary.”

“Yes, you can.”

She shook her head. “I can’t. I need another person to get into the vault.”

“Bullshit! You’re the manager! You know how to get in.”

She pressed her trembling lips together. He was right. She could.

“Why are you doing this, Gary?”

He stood before her, legs spread, gun pointed at her. “You fired me. I can’t get a job. Who’s gonna hire someone my age? I worked my whole adult life here at the bank, and for what? A measly severance package that didn’t even last six weeks.” He paused, his throat working. “This is my only chance. To look after my wife.”

“What’s wrong with your wife?”

He glared at her, then his gaze drifted away. “She has Alzheimer’s. Doesn’t even know me anymore, sometimes. Doesn’t know our son. She’s in a home. They look after her there, but…it costs money. I got no money.” His voice thickened. “What do you expect me to do?”

Keara’s gaze flicked from the gun back to his face.

“Oh Gary.” The words sighed out of her. “I didn’t know that.”

“What difference does it make? You saying you wouldn’t have fired me, if you’d known? Bullshit! You fired Mike and he has a brand-new baby to support. Born too early. Needs all kind of expensive care. You don’t give a shit about anyone. All you care about is the bottom line. Money. Numbers. That’s all we are to you.”

“That’s not true,” she whispered. She did care about her