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Fuck…
It’s Natalia.
Her name tag from Bellevue Hospital’s Prison Ward hangs on a lanyard that had been tucked into her jacket pocket. I kneel beside her and read it.
Natalia Matthews, (medical student)
NY Langone-Bellevue Psychiatry
Of all the banks in this city, on all the days, she had to be here, now.
Natalia.
With long black hair and hazel eyes, she’s the beauty who has captivated me, whose body I crave and whose smile I can’t resist.
She looks tired, but I know that she has a shift overnight. Her eyes blink open, and they’re huge, her gaze moving over my mask, my aviator glasses, her face blanched with fear as she takes me in.
Luckily, the mask hides my identity.
Man… I feel like a dagger has been thrust through my cold dead heart when I realize that she’s in the bank that my brother and I are robbing…
Her entire body trembles, and I remember the feel of it against me when we fucked just a few days ago, and I imagine her trembling with pleasure once more, but that’s for another time.
I squeeze her hand, trying to calm her.
“Don’t worry,” I say as gruffly as I can to disguise my voice. “I don’t hurt civilians. We’re only after the bad guys.”
Her eyes widen at the sound of my voice. Then, she frowns. “Youarethe bad guys,” she manages, her voice acid.
I laugh, and this time, dropped my voice to an even lower register.
“This is a Mafia bank in case you didn’t know,” I rasp. “They launder Russian money here, obtained through sex trafficking and drugs. They’re the real bad guys. Stay quiet. It’ll be over soon.”
If only you and I met after this happened instead of before…
But we didn’t.
Natalia Matthews.
Medical Student. Stepdaughter of an FBI Special Agent. Salt of the earth.
We should never have been lovers.
I shouldn’t have become involved, but there’s no changing the past. All I can do is hope to hell we get through this day unscathed.
I turn back to the bank. Beautiful Natalia or not, I have work to do…
Then a shot echoes through the building, and I move away from Natalia and crouch behind a table. My mind works furiously – it couldn’t be cops so quickly unless the silent alarm guy fucked up. I stand and see it was a mall cop with a pistol. I creep around the perimeter of the bank and get behind him.
Brave beyond words, he stands with his arm extended and I feel a moment of sympathy for him. Instead of shooting him, I knock him down from behind and wrestled the gun out of his hand. I’ll get flak from the men for that act of mercy, but I don’t want any blood shed today.
The man has balls. He was willing to take a risk, to come out firing. That counted for something. I respect two things – those with balls and survivors.
Sometimes, one person has both qualities: most of the time not.
It’s then I see that Ethan is lying on the floor of the bank, his hand on his thigh. One of the thugs is bending down beside him, and when Ethan pulls his hand back, I see it’s covered in blood.
I run to Ethan’s side. We are all wearing flak jackets, which are meant to stop bullets to the chest.
