Jack sat across from her. He could feel her eyes studying him, his demeanor, his custom made three-piece suit.
"I'll be in the area for a while. I just wanted to get a checking and savings account started."
"We can certainly do that."
She flashed another smile as she typed at her computer. Jack stored away details, a habit he finely tuned over the years. Nikki was left-handed, and obviously liked to exercise. Blond, but dyed. Her original hair color was brown. Blue eyes. She needed glasses, judging by her squinting at her monitor. There were pictures scattered across her desk. Two cats and a dog, but no men. No ring. Single. She knew her way around a computer. There was something about her right side that bothered her, as her hair covered that side and she made sure to keep it turned from him. Most likely a pimple or other blemish.
"So, do you live in Chicago?" she asked.
"No. Just outside the city. I usually only make it to town on business."
"What do you do?"
"Oh, a little of this, a little of that."
John left it at that. He hid the fact he was a multi-millionaire from everyone he met. No rest gave him plenty of time to earn more than he could spend over the decades.
He handed Nikki his driver's license and a second form of identification as she worked at her computer. She constantly glanced at him. Jack acted like he didn't notice most of the time, but finally met her gaze. Her face turned red.
He was a second away from stepping up to the plate when he heard a commotion behind him. Nikki's eyes widened as she looked over his shoulder, her jaw dropping. Jack turned to see three masked men standing at the entrance to the bank. One man pushed a taser to the security guard's neck. The guard shook for a moment, and then fell to the ground. Two men dragged the guard to the center of the bank while the third pulled out a gun.
"Everybody get on the ground!"
"Holy shit," Jack said. "People still rob banks like that?"
Two of them handled the customers while a third went from teller to teller. Jack tried not to laugh as Nikki and he were led away from her desk and forced to lay on the ground on their stomachs. He decided to play along, as this was the most interesting thing that happened to him in months. Few things could compete with a night on the couch watching classic movies on AMC, but a robbery certainly was one of them.
Jack looked to his left and right. Nikki was on one side, the cute woman with the McDonald's bag the other. He breathed a sigh of relief. The last place he wanted to be was anywhere near Grandma and Dennis.
He glanced around the room, searching for Grandma. Grandma, Ralph, and Dennis were near the last teller. Ralph lay on his stomach, but Grandma sat up, leaning against the counter. She held Dennis close to her.
"Look, old woman. I told you to lay down."
"Please, I can't. My grandson, I have to hold him."
The second man approached his friend wielding the gun.
"Tom, come on. She's ninety years old."
"Don't say my name!"
Jack searched the faces of the people around him. All the color left Nikki's cheeks. She looked like she'd be sick any second. He reached out and touched her hand, giving her a friendly nod. If he was careful, there was still a chance he could make it to the plate and take a swing. McDonald's woman next to him was crying. The men still argued over how to handle Grandma. Jack rolled his eyes. They obviously weren't professionals.
A smell caught his nose. A sausage and egg biscuit and hash browns.
His stomach growled. He'd skipped breakfast, thinking the trip to the bank would be a short one.
He looked at McDonald's woman next to him.
"Psst," he said. "Hey, lady. What's your name?"
She said nothing at first. Her mouth opened, but no words came out. She looked up to make sure the robbers didn't notice her.
"J-Jasmine," she whispered.
"Hi, Jasmine. Hell of a name," Jack said, flashing his brightest smile. He pointed at her bag. "Are you gonna eat that?"
Jasmine was quiet. Jack reached out and grabbed the bag, but didn't take it from her. When she didn't resist or say anything, he took her answer as a no.
"Thanks," he said. "I didn't eat anything this morning."
He took a bite of his sandwich as he watched the bungling burglars in action.
"Move your ass, man! You got the money?"
"Yeah. Let's go."
"Hurry up!"
The thief named Tom made it to the door first. He immediately backed away, grabbing his friends by the arms.
"Shit! The cops are out there!"
"Are you kidding me?"
"Dammit. I told you guys we needed to move faster."
Jack laughed, drawing the attention of everyone at the bank.
"Well, what did you expect?"
He was sitting up now, leaning against the counter, eating his hash browns. Nikki was gesturing with her hands, trying to tell him to be quiet. Jasmine covered her mouth with her palm so she wouldn't scream.
"Seriously," Jack continued. "You three come rolling in here like the Three Stooges. Taking out the guard, making as much noise as you can. Do you not know what year this is? As soon as you walked in, I bet cameras were going off, taking pictures, doing all that FBI crap. I bet Grandma down there has a camera in her bra. You gotta love technology."
Tom locked the door to the bank and grabbed his mask in frustration. His accomplices stood and watched Jack in awe. Tom waved his gun around.
"Everyone, scoot up against the counter. Get moving."
One of the robbers with a long scar on his arm ran up to Tom.
"Hostages? Are you serious?"
"We don't have a choice."
Jack simply shook his head as the hostages lined up along the counter next to him. The tellers climbed over the counter and joined them. Tom forcibly threw one of them to the floor. Dennis was crying and screaming, with Grandma trying to soothe him.
Nikki and Jasmine were still on either side of him. He supposed it could have been a worse morning. Nikki had a perfume that was very nice.
He studied the three men. All of them were in their mid-twenties. Tom was obviously the leader of their little gang. He was very comfortable with his gun. Jack had no doubt he’d used it before. Scar, on the other hand, didn't look comfortable at all. He’d been the one gathering the money. His hands shook the entire time. The third man—Jack had nicknamed him Doofus—was so animated he seemed like he’d pass out any moment. He pulled a knife from under his coat and ran a finger along the blade nervously.
"We can't do this," Scar said. "We can't keep these people hostage."
"Maybe you want to go to jail. I don't. I'll kill everyone here if I have to," Tom said.
"Have you ever done that?" Jack said. "Have you ever killed a room full of people?"
Tom ran forward and shoved his gun his Jack's face. Everyone whimpered and held their breath at the thought of seeing someone murdered. Nikki and Jasmine leaned away from him.
"If you don't shut your mouth, you'll be the first to go."
Jack laughed. He couldn't remember the last time he'd been entertained so much.
"Oh God, if only that were true."
Scar put his hands over his ears as he looked at Dennis.
"Will someone shut that kid up?"
Doofus looked at his friends. "What are we gonna do?"
"Look," Jack said. "The first thing you idiots need to do is get everyone's phones. Someone's probably posting a Facebook update as we speak."
Nikki gripped his arm tightly.
"What are you doing?" she hissed.
"Just having some fun."
Doofus gathered all the phones. Jack pulled him in a few inches when he grabbed his two-month-old iPhone.
"If you break this phone, I will break you."
Doofus flinched just for a moment before resuming his tough-guy look. He piled all the phones on a chair and stood next to Tom. The two men whispered to each other, not aware that Jack could re
ad lips. Another hobby he learned to keep his mind occupied.
"That guy in the suit is freakin' me out."
"Just shut up, and do what I say. We'll get out of this."
Jack nudged Nikki's shoulder.
"I'll bet you'll be finding a new job soon."
"I...I'm going to school to be a massage therapist."
"No shit. Is there a lot of money in that? I'll bet there are definitely not as many assholes running around with guns."
Tom lunged forward again and pressed the barrel of his gun against Jack's forehead. Jack tried not to laugh. Tom's finger was nowhere near the trigger.
"If you don't shut it, I'll kill you. I swear to God. I will blow your brains all over these nice women here."
Jack said nothing, but his smile faded. Tom was invading his personal space, and that threatened to send him over the edge.
He was close to killing Tom when the gunman pulled away.
"Finally, some quiet," he said.
One hour passed. Then another. They finally made contact with the police outside. Jack enjoyed watching them make mistake after mistake. They even went so far as to request a helicopter. The hostages continued to whimper and cry, so desperate not to lose their precious lives.
Jack continued to make small talk with Nikki. When everything was over they could talk about their life-changing experience, reaffirm how wonderful life was, go on a date, and maybe climb into bed.
It was nearly noon when Jack’s patience disappeared. He wanted to see if he had a chance with Nikki, but he didn't plan on spending three hours at the bank. He had a business meeting he had to get to, and Judge Judy came on later in the afternoon.
Tom was talking with the police on a hostage's cell phone when Jack stood up behind him and stretched his arms. Nikki and Jasmine gasped. Before Doofus and Scar noticed he was already halfway across the bank to the pile of cell phones.
"What the hell are you doing?" Scar asked.
Tom spun around and hung up the phone. He pointed his gun at Jack.
"Get back over there!"
Jack searched through the phones for his. It seemed every other phone was an iPhone.
"Guys, look. You gave it your best shot. But you screwed up. You should have killed someone in the first five minutes, showed the cops you meant business. Now, the best way this will end is with you in jail. Get a good lawyer. Make up a story about your Daddy molesting you or something. I've got shit to do."
Tom motioned at Doofus. "Put him back with the others."
"I'm not getting near that asshole."
"You have a knife!"
"Well, you have a gun."
Scar grabbed the knife from Doofus' hand and hoisted Nikki to her feet. He snaked one arm around her neck while pressing the blade to her cheek.
"Sit down. Now. Or I kill your friend here."
Jack stopped his search long enough to flash Scar a mock look of horror.
"Really? Oh no. You'll kill someone I've known for three hours? However will I live?"
Tom, Scar, and Doofus traded looks. None of them knew what to do. The hostages whispered and talked amongst themselves.
"Listen, hero. I'm serious."
Jack laughed. "Hero. That's something I've never been called before."
"If you don't sit down, I'll-"
"You'll do nothing," Jack said, staring a hole through Tom. He found his phone and shoved it in his pocket. "You can kill everyone in this room. I don't care. But I'm leaving. If you try to stop me, I will kill you. Do you understand?"
Jack saw Tom shake just slightly. He may have shot people before, but it certainly wasn't his goal today. Jack walked toward the front door.
"Stop him!" Doofus called.
Tom fired once, and the hostages cried out. Jack stopped mid-stride. He felt the sting in his shoulder, followed by the familiar sound of a bullet hitting the floor.
He was expecting a shot to the head, not his clothes.
His worst fears were confirmed when he touched his shoulder. The bullet ripped a hole in his three-thousand-dollar suit.
There was a growling as Jack closed the distance between them. It took a moment to realize it was him.
"This suit is worth more than your life."
Tom fired one more shot, this time at Jack's head. The bullet struck him on the jaw, and fell to the floor.
He head-butted Tom, sending him sprawling across the bank. Closing the distance one more time, Jack kicked Tom in the stomach, the head, the chest, anywhere he could.
The hostages screamed and shouted behind him. He heard them climbing to their feet, stampeding for the front door. Jack paid them no mind.
He only stopped kicking Tom when he felt a quick pain in his back.
Spinning around, Scar stood there with the knife in his hand. He’d let Nikki go and tried to stab Jack in the back. A look of shock crossed his eyes at the fact the knife barely dug in to his flesh.
Jack pulled the gun from Tom's hand and shot Scar in the head. Brain matter and blood flew in all directions as his body collapsed to the floor.
Doofus was in shock, and only managed to turn and take one step before Jack shot him in the back of the neck.
Five seconds later, everything was quiet. Jack heard the police outside, dealing with the hostages. He only had a few seconds before police swarmed the bank.
Scar was dead. Doofus wasn't far behind. He moaned in pain as blood spilled from his neck to the floor, and then stopped moving altogether.
Jack looked down at Tom. His face was a bloody mess. A few broken teeth lay next to him. His right cheek was crushed, his eye red.
Jack squatted next to him, trailing the barrel of the gun across the floor.
"I told you I would kill you. Did you think I was lying?"
Tom spit up blood. "Please-"
Jack pressed the gun to his forehead and pulled the trigger. He didn't care about Tom's last words. He didn't care about why they wanted to rob a bank, or their poor little life stories.
There wasn't much Jack did care about.
He dropped the gun to the floor. The last three hours, as fun as they were, would cost him a small fortune. The police would need to be bribed, as well as the bank and the media. The bank's cameras would have to be destroyed. Witnesses would have to be taken care of.
He sighed. There definitely wasn't a chance of him ending up in Nikki's bed. Of course, not caring whether she lived or died probably didn't help his case with her.
He wouldn't have to change his identity, but a move from Chicago was definitely in order, as well as a mini-retirement. Jack owned houses all over the country. Maybe he'd move back east, close to the ocean.
He held up his hands as a swat team stormed through the bank entrance.
"A little late, guys."
CHAPTER 4
Jack smiled as he inhaled the scent of saltwater. A sign on the highway told him he had entered Parkville, Delaware. Parkville was a small town on the border of Delaware and Maryland, very close to the Atlantic Ocean. Goosebumps danced across his bare arms as the excitement of moving still held him.
He had moved many times over his long life. Some moves were by choice, while others were forced upon him. He learned over the years when it was time to simply move on. A glance from that long-tenured store clerk. A remark from an acquaintance of how he doesn't seem to get any older.
Killing three people in a bank was also a sure sign of having to move on.
It was difficult, but he managed to shut down the circus that tried to consume him in Chicago. Twenty years ago he could walk into a bar, kill anyone with his bare hands, and disappear, never to be heard from again. That wasn't an easy task now. Cameras on every corner and in every phone, the Internet, a desire for news to be instant.
The incident at Chicago cost him nearly a million dollars. It was a small amount, compared to what he was worth, but still a headache. Nearly forty people had to be bribed, along with the creation of fake hospital bills. A doctor at the hospital dec
ided to be difficult, and ask for more money. Jack had to dig into the doctor's past and weed out every little dirty secret. The doctor was much more cooperative after that. Blackmail was a wonderful thing.
Even though he never saw her again, Jack paid for Nikki's massage classes. He wasn't even sure himself why. Maybe it was because she had nice legs.
That was all behind him now. He hadn't visited his house in Parkville in two years. A married couple rented the house until six months ago, but it had been empty since they moved to Florida.
A new house one block away from the beach, a new town, new places to eat, a new atmosphere. It was exactly what Jack needed.
He drove past the beach before heading toward his new home. Kids played volleyball and enjoyed themselves in the water. Women lay out under the sun. The scent of pizza and hot dogs was in the air. Jack wasn't fond of people, but it was certainly a nice sight.
He parked by the curb and admired his house as he climbed out of his truck. It was a single family home, with four bedrooms that he would never use, and a full bathroom on each floor. The people he hired to clean up the house did a great job. The lawn was freshly cut, the windows were clean, the bushes near the house trimmed.
The inside was left exactly as he'd instructed. He paid good money to have his house fully furnished, but everything was still in boxes and plastic. The furniture, dining set, kitchenware, entertainment, was all brand new, still sealed up. There was no need to pay someone to unpack his stuff when he didn't sleep, or even rest. It was a great joy to set up a new home, and he wouldn't let movers ruin that.
Navigating around boxes and furniture, he walked through the house to the back door in the kitchen. He stepped on the deck and couldn't stop the smile from spreading across his face. The backyard was perfect, with a privacy fence, and enough room to engage in one of his favorite passions. A vegetable garden.
He could see it in his mind; beets, lettuce, squash, tomatoes, beans. Much of his life had died after he was cursed, even if he himself would never know death. No friends or family. No place to mourn his parents or old mortal life.
His garden helped him. It was something to take care of, nurture, and watch grow.
Jack Kursed Page 5