Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 72325 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 72325 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 362(@200wpm)___ 289(@250wpm)___ 241(@300wpm)
“Look at that,” Rocco’s remark had me look across the street. He was pointing at a huge estate. Surrounded by stone walls, it featured an arched entryway with an iron gate like the fucking drawbridge of a castle. Beyond the gate, a sleek black Lamborghini was facing the street. “I’m telling you, guys. If I don’t like the bank set-up, I’m going to break into one of these mansions and empty the motherfucker.”
“Trust me, you will,” I said with a smile. “Besides, I don’t know about you, but I don’t want to shoot some poor security guard to get away with a Ming vase and a fancy espresso machine.” Growing up in the foster care system had given us all a healthy disregard for rich assholes. Sure, they gave to charity once a year, but other than that, they were pretty useless.
“You and I both,” he maintained, as we watched a red Ferrari belting down the street in the opposite direction.
Slater whistled at the supercar. “Goddamn. I’ve got to get me one of those.” He’d been in love with expensive cars since he was a boy.
I sighed, taking the last left turn. I had to admit that I’d had a few daydreams about the money, too. Slater was just the only one who’d said out loud what he wanted to do with his money.
“There she is.” I pointed at the Palmer’s Savings and Loan up ahead on the left side of the street. I pulled over and switched off the lights and the engine, my eyes on the blue sign over the entrance.
“Three ways in and out,” Rocco confirmed, squinting at the bank. It was on the corner with free access from either side of the intersection. “That’s good. Are we sure your friend can take out the alarm system?”
“He can do it, Rocco,” Slater replied, his tone low as I spotted an oncoming van in the rearview mirror. “I don’t know tech stuff, but he showed me some of the jobs he’s pulled, and I got a good bullshit meter. He’s been a hacker for years.”
I was only half listening as I watched the white van approach. The rumble of its engine made Slater whip his head around to check it out. It pulled up right behind us with its headlights still on. The driver jumping out, making tension tighten the back of my neck. I shoved my head through my open window and looked back as he flipped around. He had white, spiky hair and was about 5’6”. Adrenaline flooded me as I recognized the son of a bitch.
“Down!” I shouted and I crouched down in the driver’s seat as best I could. A moment later, a tremendous blast rocked the car, the street, and possibly the whole damn state. The white van behind us had exploded and the back window of my car exploded inward, shards of glass flying everywhere.
The noise from the blast was deafening, so it took my ringing ears a moment to realize that a dozen car alarms had gone off, as well as an ear-splitting one from the bank itself.
“We have to get out of here.” Slater’s voice broke through the clamor. “Can you drive?”
Shaking off glass shards, I nodded. My hands were bleeding, but I could grip the steering wheel. The side mirror was missing, but I pulled out into the street, tearing recklessly through the intersection. “You guys okay?” I called out, my ears still ringing.
“Yeah,” Slater spat. He’d been closer to the blast than us, but he’d had more room to duck behind the protection of the back seat. “What about Rock?”
My heart sank as I looked over at the passenger seat. My friend had been thrown forward, his face resting on top of the dashboard. Shards of glass were lying around his head. A larger chunk had been lodged into the side of his neck. Blood was spilled out, disappearing under the collar of his white shirt.
“Rocco!” I shoved his shoulder, panic filled me.
His groan was barely audible, but at least it reassured me that he was alive.
Slater leaned forward, cussing as shards of glass cut his hands. “Rock, can you hear me?”
There was another groan.
“Fuck!” Slater said. “What the hell happened?”
To my surprise, it was Rock who answered. “Ambush,” he said weakly. He pushed himself away from the dashboard.
“Easy,” Slater cautioned, reaching forward to guide Rocco back into his seat. “What the fuck do I do about the glass?”
“Just pull it out,” Rocco said with a groan.
“Don’t!” I warned.
Fortunately, Slater was in his right mind today. “You’re bleeding like a stuck pig, man.”
“We should get him to a hospital,” I said.
“No,” Rocco said, his voice stronger. “The police have to be on their way. Just get us out of here.”
Yeah. That was a good plan—or it would’ve been if he hadn’t been actively bleeding. He’d banged his head, too. Not sure if this ancient car still even had airbags, but they sure as hell hadn’t deployed.