Chapter 7 #2
“Just relax,” Chase snapped, his tone not comforting in the slightest. “Shut the fuck up and do as you’re told.”
“Hey, you take care of this guy,” I instructed Chase, nodding my head to the whimpering man under me. Montclair appeared to be stocked with crying, pussy husbands who couldn’t take the heat. “I’ll check that safe out.”
I could hear Chase’s quick paced footsteps as he crossed the room over to me. He gave my back a friendly pat and I got off the bed, giving him enough room to get into position and replace me, but Nate was flighty.
A cry left him as he shoved Chase away, his feet hitting the carpet before he tripped not even three seconds later, hitting the floor face first with a thud.
My eyes rolled, watching him stumble to get back up. His wife’s cries were muffled thanks to Bennett, but I could still hear the fear in her. I didn’t want to scare her, but her stupid fucking husband wasn’t giving me much of a choice.
Raising my arm, I aimed the gun at Nate, pulling the safety back. The click was a relatively soft noise, but it had been loud enough for him to stop in his tracks.
“You take one more step, and there’ll be a bullet in the back of your head,” I said lowly. “Do you want this nice carpet covered in your blood?”
“N-No,” Nate stuttered out.
“Then turn around with your hands on your head,” I instructed. “All we want is your stuff. I don’t wanna kill you, but if I have to, I will. So do us both a favor and don’t make me kill you.”
“I… I…”
“Get back here,” Chase snapped, not a single ounce of calmness in his voice. “Turn around. Don’t even think about running.”
“You’re gonna scare him,” Bennett spoke up. “Don’t scare him.”
“He’s already scared,” I said. My eyes gazed at his hands by his sides, at the way they trembled.
Even his knees buckled, and I couldn’t deny how much I enjoyed putting true unfiltered fear into a grown man.
That shit made you feel like a king, like you ran the goddamn world.
“Turn around, Nate.” I heard him whimper when I said his name. “And you won’t have to die.”
Slowly, slowly, slowly. Every action he made was easy and cautious, and that was smart of him. He listened to me, spinning on the spot with shaky steps, finally greeting me again with eyebrows furrowed, lips parted, and cheeks wet with tears. Fresh ones were in his eyes.
And then he made a very, very dumb move. He spun on his heels, moving over to the walk-in closet, running off to where I assumed that safe was. Where that gun was.
“Fucking idiot can’t listen,” Chase muttered.
I held in an annoyed groan, moving into the walk-in closet fast and hard.
Nate was yanking open the metal front of a safe before he shoved a hasty hand inside, pulling out a nice shiny revolver.
It looked barely used, and by the way Nate was shaking, I had a feeling he didn’t have the first clue about handling it.
About defending himself. It was obvious he wasn’t a fighter.
My own gun stayed aimed at him the whole time, my hands much steadier than his fumbling ones. “Drop it,” I said. “Don’t be stupid.”
“You’re… You’re… You’re not getting anything,” he said, chest heaving. Guy looked like he was about to have a fucking panic attack.
“If you value your life, drop the gun,” I said, stern but steady. “Drop it and put your hands on your head.”
“I’m… I’m not gonna…” He shook even more. “I’m not letting you do this.”
“All you have to do is put the gun down and no one will get hurt. I don’t wanna hurt you. I wanna make this easy for you.” I kept my voice low and calm, like I was talking to a child on the brink of having a tantrum. “Let me make this easy for you, okay?”
Then he made another dumb move.
He ran at me. Fight or flight had hit him, and he picked the stupid option. Gun aimed at him, all I had to do was give it an easy pull of the trigger, the bullet hitting him square in the chest.
“Nate!” I heard Sasha’s muffled cries from the bedroom.
“God fucking dammit,” I hissed, moving over to Nate.
His eyes were wide, lips trembling, his hands reaching up to grope lazily at his chest like that would do anything.
Blood began to seep through the white fabric of his shirt, his breaths slow and gargled.
There was fear still there in his eyes. Death was about to greet him in just a few minutes.
My mind instantly went back to Juliette and her husband. I wished he had tried that shit. If he had possessed an ounce of courage, Juliette would have been looking at coffins for him right now. I should have just done it. I should have put a bullet right in his fucking head.
“All you had to do was give us your shit,” I said to Nate, giving his leg a kick. Gun pointed at his stomach, I gave the trigger another pull—just to make sure. His next breath came out all choked and garbled, gasping as the blood gushed out of him, and then slowly, his eyes fluttered shut.
With a huff, I stepped back into the bedroom. “He’s dead,” I said. “Just tie his wife up and the security people will figure out shit sooner or later.”
“Sweetheart, you married an idiot,” Chase said, his head shaking as he looked at Sasha. He stood up and stormed over to the walk-in closet, giving my shoulder a smack with his hand on the way in. “I’m still stealing some of his shit.”
Sasha was trembling on the bed, eyes wet and big as they darted between me and Bennett. “Please… Please…”
With gentle hands, Bennett grasped her shoulders and turned her around, getting her on her stomach.
The action just made her cries sharper and louder as Bennett gave her back a quick pat.
“Come on. You’ll be okay,” he said. “I have to tie you up, but someone will be here to help you in a little bit.”
Bennett was shaking his head and murmuring words to himself as he yanked at the rope. He had always been handy with it, and I thanked God every day that his overachieving little self spent so much time in the Boy Scouts.
“Please don’t hurt me,” Sasha said, her voice wavering. “Please, please, please. Please don’t hurt me. Please.”
“We won’t hurt you,” Bennett said, voice calm. “I told you we wouldn’t.”
“We need to get out of here,” I said. “What a waste of fucking time.”
“Yeah, let’s go,” Chase said. He stood there in the doorway, the duffel bags we had brought with us filled with something. I wasn’t sure what, and with the limited amount of time we had, it wouldn’t have been all that much to begin with—but we deserved something for all our hard work.
Chase led the way. I could hear Bennett behind me as we flew out of the bedroom and down the stairs, slipping back out the way we came from. A quick exit was always a good one. Except that one had been messier than I had been planning.
Chase hauled the van door open, tossing the bags inside before the three of us climbed in.
Nolan was looking over his shoulder at us, a smile growing across his lips. “Husband got too excited?” he asked.
“Yeah,” was my simple answer.
Nolan just laughed before he hit the accelerator, and then we were speeding away from the house and were back on to the smooth roads of Montclair.
The sound of Bennett and Chase talking to each other hit my ears, both of them rightfully pissed that some idiot husband had fucked up our steal for the night.
There’d be other opportunities and I was sure whatever Chase had grabbed would still get us a profit, but it also meant that all that planning we had done had gone to shit.
I let them talk amongst themselves as we drove through Montclair. Such a nice neighborhood. For nice people. For nice couples. For nice girls like Juliette Ashford who grew up to marry nice boys like her husband.
Her husband…
The one she married not too long after me and her parted ways.
I kept wondering if she felt any ache at all when he slid that ugly ring on her finger.
Did she ever wish it was me marrying her?
That it was me that was coming home to her?
That it was my last name she had instead of his?
Did she think about me at all, or was it all just a game for her?
The poor little rich girl needed to rebel and I was how she did it.
I wondered if she remembered that one Saturday, the air cold and the wind heavy, the two of us eating dinner at the best pizza joint in the damn country even though they didn’t charge like it.
Five bucks for a large pizza, two bucks for two large sodas, me and Juliette sitting at that place on one of our dates because I couldn’t afford much else, but she always seemed happy.
There had been one of those little gumball machines in the corner, and I had pulled two quarters out of my jeans pocket, shoved them into the slots, and out came a plastic ring. Big, over the top, pink—but even at eighteen, I had felt my heart soar when I slid that thing on to her ring finger.
God, it had felt so right. I still remembered that moment. How easily it slid on to her finger, how it fit so good, how I wanted to fucking quit school and get some nine to five job so I could start saving up to buy her a real ring and make her mine properly.
But I had to snap out of the past. That was far, far away.
That was over and done with. I was still so fucking tempted to tell Nolan to drive us back to Juliette’s house so I could put a bullet between Gordon’s eyes.
I’d make him cry, make him feel pure terror, make him beg for his life while Juliette watched.
I wanted her to watch. I wanted her to see exactly what I was capable of, how I could end his life in a second flat.
In my head, I was doing Juliette a favor.