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I can hear Mr. Krait moving around the room, but I don’t dare turn to look. As I wait for him to finish whatever it is he’s doing, I think about the choices I’d made that brought me here.
See, most kids dream of working at a chocolate factory or a toy shop when they’re small, but not me. The first time my father brought me to this bank, I was immediately captivated by the towering pillars and intricate architecture. The place looked pristine with neatly dressed adults, and to seven-year-old me, it felt like a whole other world. Never in my young life had I seen a building as magnificent, and I begged my parents to bring me along with them every time they visited.
I knew even back then that I wanted to work here, and I’ve worked so damned hard for the opportunity. The day I finally signed the contract to work as a loan officer at the bank was easily one of the best days of my life.
But being forced into a corner by a man with a gun was not part of my childhood dreams. Tears prick my eyes and my body shakes as I struggle to remain still and quiet.
I have no idea how much time has passed when he finally calls me away from the corner. While standing there with my back to him was terrifying, the thought of willingly walking toward Mr. Krait is even more so, but I do it. My feet feel like they’re weighed down, and it’s a struggle to put one in front of the other, but the last thing I want to do is make this man angry.
He reaches out and grabs my wrist, and it takes everything in me not to snatch my hand away. As his fingers wrap around me, I again notice the snake tattoo that coils around his wrist and disappears up his sleeve. I can see more of it now, and I notice that what I’d thought was the tail of the snake is actually the head, and it’s eating something. The snake itself has thick black and yellow bands, and while I can’t tell what kind of snake it is, it is terrifying.
“You’re going to walk back to the lobby. Don’t make any sudden moves and don’t turn around. Do you understand?”
I nod and comply as he pushes me in front of him. I walk down the hall, and after several steps, I realize I can’t feel him behind me. Did he stay in the vault?
When I get to the lobby, I can see two other men wearing balaclavas and holding large rifles. Hank is still seated on his stool, but he’s wide awake and has clearly been disarmed. Debbie is lying face-down on the floor with two bank customers; tears stream down her face, and her back rises and falls rapidly with her breaths. Her eyes grow wide when she sees me.
One of the other gun men notices me and yells, “Get on the fucking ground, now!” I quickly drop to the floor on my stomach. As I do, a sudden alarm shatters the silence, making everyone jump. One of the customers, an older lady with short white hair, screams.
At the sound of the alarm, the two masked men run toward the hallway I’d just used, and I realize the alarm is coming from the emergency exit door in the back of the bank. Everything is silent except the sound of the alarm, which is still blaring from the back of the building. No one dares to move since we can’t be sure the robbers have left.
After several long minutes, I hear a commotion from the back of the bank followed by a crowd of police officers spilling into the lobby, guns drawn and shouting for everyone to raise our hands to our heads.
As I lace my fingers together over my blond hair, I think about how much easier my life would be had I picked working at a chocolate factory like all the other kids in my second-grade class.
Chapter Two
Jax
I wake up with a start, my breath labored even as sweat trickles down my back. My eyes move to the clock, and I groan deeply when I notice I’ve only been asleep for three hours, but it’ll have to do. I run my fingers through my wet hair and brush it away from my eyes before pushing the covers off me with an annoyed huff and making my way to my bathroom.
The cold shower is a blessed relief to my overheated skin, and for a brief moment, my brain focuses on something other than the nightmare that woke me up. It’s always the same nightmare, and every night feels like I am reliving it over and over again.
“For fuck’s sake!” I shout as I smack my fist against the granite wall. It’s been one year since I left the Marines, but I am still plagued by the horrors I encountered during my enlistment. I can still hear the cries of terrified children and taste the sand mixed with the metallic flavor of blood in my mouth.
I have been a civilian for a year now, but the memories are still fresh, and sometimes, I wonder if perhaps I would’ve been better off buried in the sand with my fallen comrades.
I shake my head as I turn off the water, avoiding the mirror on my way out. My bloodshot eyes and the bags under them are all I see any time I look into the mirror, and I would rather not see the effect all this is having on me.
Perhaps I should listen to my brother and see a shrink or something. The fact that I am even contemplating it shows just how badly I am struggling.
The thought stays with me as I lace up my running shoes and head out down the quiet street. It’s four in the morning, and despite being in a bustling city, it seems the world is still asleep as I break into a jog. I feel the cold breeze against my face, the rhythm of my feet hitting the pavement seems to match the beating of my heart.
My heart is racing hard as turn into the deserted park, running through the trees at a full sprint until my chest threatens to cave in if I don’t slow down, and when my phone vibrates in my pocket, I take it as a sign to stop.
I pace in front of a bench to slow my heart rate down before accepting the call. I don’t bother to look at the caller ID as there are only two people who call me these days. It’s either my brother or a call from some salesman reminding me about extending my car warranty, but I doubt anyone but my brother is up this early. He is a cop, and I would say he is a damn good one at that, so I’m not surprised he would be up this late, especially if he’s working on a case.
“What do you want?” I say in greeting.
“Well, good morning to you too, big brother,” he says with a chuckle. “I imagined you would be up this early.”
“Tell me what you want, Matthew.”
“I can’t call to check on my brother?” My silence is enough to tell him what he needs to know. “Fine, I need a favor.”
“What kind of favor?”
“It’s not the sort of thing I can say over the phone. Can I stop by later to discuss it in person?”
