Tattoo(2)

“You called the cops?” He said it like it was hard to believe.

“Last time I checked, robbing a bank and holding a gun on a person was a crime,” I said, knowing I shouldn’t, but not being able to keep the words in. I was scared, but I was also very angry.

He smacked me across the face. Hard.

His palm literally slammed into the side of my face, making my entire head fly sideways and right into the gun at my neck. The hard steel was unforgiving and it jammed into my flesh, making me cry out.

That was going to leave a mark.

“Hey,” said a rough voice from off to the side. “I thought you were here for the money and not to hit women.”

Part of me wanted to thank the man behind my counter for trying to defend me; the other part of me was horrified he would be punished.

Just as I feared, the man who slapped me leveled his gun at him. What was his name again? I tried to remember what it said on his ID when he showed it to me to make his withdrawal, but it was hard to think when half your face was stinging fiercely and the other half was being threatened with a bullet.

This was the worst day in the history of bad days.

“Hey! We came here for the cash!” another man behind us yelled.

I was shoved roughly forward. “Open the safe.”

I wasn’t going to open that safe.

I glanced at Brandy, who was huddled against the wall, crying. She didn’t appear to be physically harmed, and I breathed a sigh of relief.

“I said open it!” He yanked the gun away from my neck, but I couldn’t enjoy the safety because he slapped his large, sweaty palm in between my shoulder blades and thrust me forward so forcefully that I slammed into the metal door of the safe and bounced back, falling onto my ass on the floor.

A thud echoed behind me as I was pulled to my feet. He placed the gun between my shoulder blades, holding it there and directing me until I was standing right in front of the large keypad that opens the safe.

“I don’t know the combination.” I lied.

“Then you better hope you’re physic because you got exactly ten seconds to open that vault before I shoot you.”

Well, if that wasn’t motivation, I don’t know what was.

On shaking knees, I stepped forward, pressing a number on the pad. Then I pressed a couple more. When I hit the release button, nothing happened. But I didn’t expect it to. I just wanted it to look like I was trying to open it. I wasn’t opening it.

“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 was 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 clenched. 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.

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 who 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 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, waiving around a rather large gun. He turned toward the vault, disregarding the people cowering on the floor.