“See,” I said, my voice trembling. “I don’t know.”
I heard the distinct sound of sirens and screeching tires and gave a sigh of relief. The cops were here!
Of course, I barely had time to celebrate because the thieves did the one thing that had the power to make me reconsider opening that safe.
Brandy was snatched off the floor and a gun was pressed to her head.
“So help me God, if you don’t open that shit right now, I will splatter her brains all over the wall.”
Brandy started screaming and shaking. The man looked at me intently, like he couldn’t hear her pleas. His eyes were empty inside, completely devoid of any kind of feeling. It’s like he had some weird ability to shut off his emotions.
It made me wonder if he was a vampire.
I shook my head, telling myself that thinking about vampires was a sign I was cracking under pressure.
“I’ll open it.” I promised. Risking my life for the bank was one thing, but risking someone else’s life for the bank was an entirely different entity.
After a few punches to the keypad, the lock clicked free and my stomach twisted. Someone twisted a hand in my hair from behind and pulled, practically ripping the strands from my scalp. I was tossed onto the floor, landing in a heap next to Brandy, who was still crying hysterically.
I backed up, wrapping an arm around her shoulder, as three men walked into the safe, the sounds of opening duffle bags like a stab to my heart.
“Thank you,” Brandy whispered, and I turned my face up to look into her red-rimmed, bloodshot brown eyes.
“No money is worth anyone’s life,” I whispered back.
The voice of whom I assumed was a police officer boomed through the air, so loud that it came through the walls of the bank for all of us to hear. “The bank is surrounded. Release the hostages immediately,” he demanded over an intercom.
Laughter floated from out of the vault and I figured that meant they didn’t plan on letting us walk out of here. Silly me, I thought police presence would actually deter the robbers.
A large black duffle bag was tossed out of the vault, landing a few feet away. Crisp green bills were poking out of the top. Another one followed.
“Yo! Hurry up!” the guy guarding the door yelled to his friends, waving around a rather large gun. He turned toward the vault, disregarding the people cowering on the floor.
One of the women lying behind him jumped up and made a run for it, right toward the exit. The gunman turned and fired off a shot, catching her in the leg. She fell onto the floor with a high-pitched scream.
I watched in morbid fascination as a puddle of dark red formed around her.
People in the bank were sobbing openly now. Some of them were pleading for their lives.
I heard someone outside yell, “Shots fired!”
My eyes traveled around the room, seeking out the man whose name I couldn’t remember. Our eyes locked and for one long second it was like we were the only two people in the room. He wasn’t crying or begging for his life. He wasn’t sweating or looking for a way to save his ass.
He was standing there, in the center of the room, calm and strong, like this situation wasn’t that big of a deal. He made me feel better, more in control.
Another duffle flew out of the vault and one of the men stepped out. There had to be millions of dollars in those bags. Not only would it ruin this bank, the people who did business here, but my father as well.
My newfound strength made me brave.
I stepped in front of one of the bags, giving a level look to the men who intended to take it. “If you leave now, you might get away.”
The man standing directly in front of me smirked and the smirk turned into a full-blown smile. I realized my mistake then.
I tried to entice them with freedom, with the thought of getting away unscathed. These men didn’t care about that. If I had been thinking clearly, I would have realized that from the beginning. None of them were wearing ski masks or those plastic masks that looked like creepy clowns or animals. They weren’t even trying to hide their faces.
Men who didn’t hide their faces in a situation like this were either really desperate or really meticulous and had a fail-proof plan. They planned to be long gone before anyone could recognize their faces.
I wasn’t going to stop them.
No one was.
The man standing in front of me raised his gun, pointing it right at me.
And then he pulled the trigger.
Cambria Hebert is the author of the young adult paranormal Heven and Hell series, the new adult Death Escorts series, and the new adult Take it Off series. She loves a caramel latte, hates math, and is afraid of chickens (yes, chickens). She went to college for a bachelor’s degree, couldn’t pick a major, and ended up with a degree in cosmetology. So rest assured her characters will always have good hair. She currently lives in North Carolina with her husband and children (both human and furry), where she is plotting her next book. You can find out more about Cambria and her work by visiting http://www.cambriahebert.com.
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