Trouble

by Jamie Campbell

  Trouble

  Also by the Author:

  Ashes to Ashes

  Gifted

  TROUBLE

  JAMIE CAMPBELL

  Copyright 2013 Jamie Campbell

  Smashwords Edition

  Jamie Campbell asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

  This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior permission of the author.

  CHAPTER 1

  I’ve never been a good judge of character. I always thought I was, but in reality I was fooling myself. I dated losers, I got terrible jobs, and I brought way too many things from late night infomercials. Good decisions were not my forte.

  On reflection, I think I knew when it was time to break up with my latest boyfriend. He definitely wasn’t a good decision. He cost me a lot more than my dignity…

  “I need to go to the bank,” Ryan grumbled as we lay in bed. I watched as he pulled on some clothes from the floor and zipped his pants.

  The last thing I wanted to do was leave the comfortable bed. Especially when I’d been working half the night. “I’ll see you when you get back.”

  “No, you need to come with me.”

  “Why?”

  “Will you just do it? You always have to argue,” he looked at me with that cute exasperated look he always managed to pull off. It was difficult to refuse.

  “Why don’t you just come back to bed?”

  “Because we need to get moving.”

  “Fine,” I sighed. My clothes came from the closet, at least I still had some pride yet to lose.

  We took the drive to the bank and circled the block until Ryan found the ideal car park. He insisted he didn’t want to walk far and ended up parking in the disabled spot. I knew my protests would fall on deaf ears. Perhaps that was his disability – selective deafness.

  Inside the bank, there was a long queue for the tellers. I waited with Ryan as he completed the slip. He seemed to be taking a long time, which should have been my first clue that something wasn’t right.

  “Here, take this,” Ryan said as he shoved something into my hands. I didn’t even think as I accepted the object. It was heavy and cold. I looked down and saw I was holding a gun.

  “What the hell, Ryan?” I tried to hide it underneath my jacket so nobody would see. Instantly, it felt like every eye in the place was staring directly at me.

  “We’re robbing this place,” he answered, twitching nervously. I didn’t get a chance to respond before he stomped into the middle of the bank and fired his gun into the ceiling. “This is a hold up. Everybody on the floor.”

  I was speechless as everyone around me instantly dropped to the floor in terror. I was stuck in place, I couldn’t move. I think my brain was shutting down with the sheer shock of it all. The only thought running through my head was that I really should have broken up with Ryan earlier. That was the moment I knew I had made a vastly incorrect judgment of character.

  He waved his gun at the tellers in turn, giving them orders to put money into bags and hand them across. He looked at me. “What are you doing? Don’t just stand there, help me.”

  Was he seriously going off at me for not helping him rob a bank? Seriously? “I’m not doing this. We need to get out of here. This is crazy.”

  “We need the money.”

  “Not this bad. What were you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking I need to get back to robbing this bank.”

  “We need to go.”

  He rolled his eyes and got back to business. The gun was starting to get heavy in my hands. I let my arms fall to my side which caused a burst of screams from those around me. I looked around, they were all staring at the semi-automatic in my hands.

  “Sorry,” I muttered, wondering if that was the appropriate apology for terrifying people half to death. Perhaps I should have said I was really sorry?

  I didn’t have long to think before a megaphone-enhanced voice filtered through. “Police! Nobody move.”

  I turned around to face the entrance, a line of a dozen cops were standing there. All their guns were pointed directly at me. I quickly looked around for Ryan. He was nowhere to be seen. Great.

  “Put your gun on the floor and get your hands up,” the cop yelled at me. I don’t know why he was yelling, I was only standing there – minding my own business.

  I did as I was told, fearing I might have twelve bullets pumped through my chest unless I hurried. I placed the gun on the floor, my left hand already in the air. I did the same with my right hand and waited.

  “You are under arrest for armed robbery. You do not have to say anything…” I stopped listening after he said ‘armed robbery’.

  A mere two seconds passed before I was handcuffed and yelled at to stay still. I don’t know what they expected, it wasn’t like I was going to run off with my hands cuffed together. It wasn’t like I could drive that way. If Ryan didn’t have the car keys, anyway.

  “I didn’t do anything,” I protested as they frog marched me to their patrol car.

  “What was the gun for then?” The cop scowled. “Fashion accessory?”

  If my hands were free, I would have punched him for the sarcastic comment. Perhaps it was a good idea after all to have cuffed me.

  I looked around for Ryan, wanting to hurt him even more than the cop. If he got away, I was going to hunt him down and skin him alive for leaving me there. We’d been together for almost a year, you would have thought he would have at least let me in on the plan. A simple ‘hey honey, I’m going to rob a bank. You want to come?’ would have been nice.

  A hundred people with cell phone cameras were waiting outside. Each one recording footage of me being shoved into the police car. I was going to make the news, perhaps even be a breaking news story. I was going to be famous. How wonderfully horrible.

  More media were waiting at the police station. My chauffeur made no attempt to shield me from any of it. I think he took great personal satisfaction in my humiliation. Man of the year, right there.

  Inside, it was quieter. But it wasn’t going to stay that way for long. “Ryan! You idiot!” I yelled across the foyer. There was my man, cuffed and being escorted in by another cop. At least he wasn’t successful in his abandonment of me.

  “Tessa, don’t say anything,” Ryan yelled back. He was angry, poor dear.

  “How could you be so stupid? You are such a freakin’ loser.”

  “And you’re a ray of sunshine? You got us caught.”

  The cop was trying to get me to move with him through a door. But I wasn’t going until I’d said my piece. “Are you kidding me? I’m the one to blame here? You better make this right or I swear I will kill you.”

  “You’ll have to beat me to it, you bit-” he didn’t get to finish before his handler pushed him through the door.

  I let the cop lead me to my cell. I was placed into a cage with three other women and told to wait until I was processed. I had no idea what that meant. Processed. Were they going to churn me into a lunch meat like some offal? I had never set foot inside a police station before, I wasn’t up on the lingo.

  I sat on the edge of one of the two benches. Two of the other women were beside me. The other took up the entire bench opposite by herself. She was staring at us with a look of either hunger or hatred. I always got those two looks mixed up. Either way, she had the rest of us in fear of our lives.

 
; “What are you in for?” The woman next to me asked. I smiled at her, not needing to wonder what she was in for. Her severe lack of clothing told me her profession. She wore enough make up to join the circus.

  “Armed robbery,” I replied.

  She didn’t say anything, just shifted herself down the bench away from me. Apparently I was a bad ass myself.

  “I didn’t do anything, my boyfriend kind of surprised me with it,” I tried to defend myself. For some strange, unknown, reason I needed this woman to like me. “Instead of a flash mob, he gave me a bank robbery as a token of his affection.”

  It seemed to work a little. “I’ve had boyfriends like that. What is it with men?”

  “I seriously don’t know.” And I didn’t. Thinking back to all my previous relationships – and I admit, there had been plenty – I realized I still couldn’t understand what went on in the male brain.

  One guy I dated decided to fake his own kidnapping to get away from me. He got his buddies to dress up like ninjas and abduct him. I didn’t care so much, I was only a week away from dumping him anyway. If he expected me to call the police about his kidnapping, he was sorely mistaken. At least, I hoped it was his buddies, perhaps I should have checked.

  After that, I decided I was only going to date sane guys. So my next boyfriend was an architect. You never hear about architects doing stupid things on the news, right? Apparently there is a first for everything. Seven weeks into our relationship and the guy gets done for embezzlement. He had stolen over a million dollars from his boss. The last I saw of him was on the news. To really rub it in, the police seized every gift he had given me because it was paid for with stolen funds. I had nothing to show for my seven weeks – literally.

  I vowed off men for a while then. I thought perhaps women would be better, that it was the entire male species that was my downfall. I was wrong about that too. The only woman I dated thought it would be a good idea to tattoo her sleeping friend as a prank. It would have been funny if the tattoo wasn’t on their face while they were passed out drunk. I was afraid to sleep for weeks after that.

  What happened with Ryan shouldn’t really have surprised me. By now, at twenty-nine years old, I should expect the hurt that comes with relationships. I guess I just thought Ryan was different. It had taken him almost a full year to reveal his inner crazy. That was a record for me.

  “Cressly. You’re up,” the female officer barked at me. I stood, not having any idea of what ‘you’re up’ meant. Were they moving me to a permanent cell? Was I going to court? They could have been taking me to the guillotine and I would have gone along.

  I was led out of the cell and into a small interview room. It was just like I’d seen on television. One wall had a mirror, which I knew was actually a window. They couldn’t fool me.

  I sat across from the police officers – now two of them. The woman was middle aged, probably about forty. She appeared to be the more senior of the two. The other was a guy, I guess about mid-thirty. He was ruggedly handsome, the kind of guy that liked mountain climbing and skiing. Definitely not the kind of guy that robbed banks.

  “I’m Sergeant Alexia Stone, this is Constable Lucas Heron. For the record, have you been read your rights?” The woman cop said, she didn’t appear to be the joking type.

  “I think so,” I replied. I remembered something about rights. “This is really just a mistake. I didn’t rob that bank.”

  “Our security cameras and eyewitnesses say otherwise. You want to tell me what happened?”

  I nodded. My God did I want to tell them what happened. I wasn’t going to take the fall for my stupid boyfriend. “I went to the bank with my boyfriend. I’m waiting there while he fills in the slip and then suddenly he thrusts a gun in my hands and tells me we’re robbing the place. I had no idea what was going on.”

  “So you had no idea you were there to rob a bank?” Constable Heron asked as he took down notes. I hoped he wasn’t writing what a loser I was.

  “None at all. I swear, all he told me was that he needed to go to the bank. I had no idea what he was planning.”

  They seemed to be thinking it over for an interminably long amount of time. I wanted to scream with the absurdity of it all.

  Finally, Sergeant Stone spoke. “How long have known Mr. Barnett?”

  “About a year.”

  “And he’s never done anything like this before?”

  “Never.” Which was technically a lie. I knew Ryan stole a car once, but that was a bit different from the contents of an entire bank. “I didn’t even know he needed money that badly.”

  “Your licenses have the same address. You live with Mr. Barnett?” I nodded and she leaned forward. “Do you really expect me to believe you live with a guy and don’t have any idea what his finances are? Or that he’s planning on committing a felony offense?”

  “No idea. I guess I had my love blinkers on.” They were real things, right? The stupid things that made you overlook every annoying detail about someone because of that horrible fluttering you got in your stomach? They had to be real.

  They both stared at me, I tried to look innocent. It wasn’t exactly difficult considering I was innocent and all.

  Constable Heron leaned forward, addressing me. “A few of the eye witnesses said you waved a gun at them. Do you want to explain that?”

  “I didn’t wave a gun at them. The damn thing was heavy so I put my arm down. There was no waving of any kind.”

  Sergeant Stone seemed to be warming slightly to me. “Your record shows you’ve never been in trouble with the police before. You don’t even have an outstanding parking ticket. So, tell me, how does a seemingly normal woman with a steady job, get involved with a criminal?”

  “He hasn’t done anything like this before, I didn’t know he was capable of it.”

  “You don’t know of his history?” She seemed somewhat surprised. She wasn’t the only one.

  “I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I said honestly. Was she implying Ryan had a past I didn’t know about? Knowing my luck, I shouldn’t have been shocked.

  She pulled open a thick file on the table between us. “Assault, robbery, grand theft, larceny, public intoxication, and my favourite, public urination. Quite a rap sheet for a good guy.”

  Who the hell had I been dating? “I didn’t know about any of those.”

  “You’re in luck, I believe you. But it still doesn’t change the fact you were involved in an armed robbery and you held a gun. You’re still going to be charged,” Sergeant Stone finished.

  I just nodded my head, accepting whatever was going to come at me. Perhaps it would be a good story to tell my grandchildren one day. Not so much of a good story to tell my parents that day, however.

  CHAPTER 2

  “Do you understand these conditions?”

  “Yes, I do,” I replied and took the sheet of bail conditions. I folded the papers and shoved them in my handbag. At least I was going home. I may have had to hand over my life savings to do so, but it beat staring at the four walls of the cell any longer.

  “You okay, honey?” Shayla patted me on the back as we left.

  “I think I’m going to break up with Ryan,” I sighed. She laughed nervously, not sure whether I was joking or not. Of course I was going to break up with the loser. I think all the mystery from a relationship goes when you know their criminal history.

  “You think? Tess, I seriously worry about you. Maybe you should take a leaf out of your-” I cut her off before she could compare me to my perfect sister – again. Lily could do no wrong, I’ve been reminded of that fact for my entire life.

  “Don’t say it,” I warned. “If Lily lived more, maybe she wouldn’t be so stuck up. Besides, I thought you were on my side.”

  “I am, honey, I am.”

  I didn’t argue as we drove to Shayla’s house. I was exhausted, completely over my whole jail experience. I guess I could tick that off the bucket list: get arrested, check.

  The
only way I slept that night was being able to imagine Ryan sleeping in his cell. I hoped nobody went to bail him out like Shayla had done for me. He deserved to have some thinking time. He needed it.

  When morning came around, I realized I needed to get moving. If I got to our apartment early enough, I might have been able to clear out my stuff before Ryan got there. There was no point in sticking around for a big break up scene, I couldn’t be bothered to deal with it.

  Shayla drove me around with some boxes and we got to packing. I generally tried not to have much stuff. Things and possessions got in the way of a speedy exit. They weighed you down. So it didn’t take long to pack my clothes and the items I considered mine. I’d paid for almost everything in the apartment, but I didn’t need reminders of Ryan. The criminal record would be enough to commemorate our time together.

  “Got everything?” Shayla asked as we closed the last box with tape.

  I looked around. I had barely made a dent in the place. Ryan probably wouldn’t even notice I had left. But there was one thing missing that I really wanted to take. “My jewelry isn’t here.”

  “Have you checked everywhere?”

  I nodded and opened my jewelry box again. It was still empty. I had looked everywhere, the bathroom, dresser drawers, behind the lounge cushions, everywhere. “They’re not here.”

  Coming to the same realization, we both said one word: “Ryan.”

  Shayla had to get to work so I was on my own for the rest of the day. My next stop was the county jail. Being set up for armed robbery was one thing, but stealing from me? That was in a whole new ballgame. Especially when they were my grandmother’s pieces. Their value was more sentimental than dollar, I had to get them back.

  “Weren’t you released?” Constable Lucas Heron smiled as he greeted me. He had the deepest dimples in his cheeks I had ever seen.

  “I need to see Ryan Barnett.”

  “Your co-accused?”