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Earlier that morning Justin and Olivia find that it was true, there were no accurate descriptions of them from their last heist, but when she walks through the doors of the next bank in Mayfield, Kentucky with her hips swinging and heels clicking there’s no question who she is, and by then it’s too late.

Justin materializes, gun at the ready, and the room freezes when he pulls out the rope. He rounds up the people too slow to escape, binding their wrists together and then to each other, while Olivia approaches a bank teller. This time it’s a skinny young man with a nose too big for his face and pretty green eyes. She shakes their black leather bag in her fist once she rounds the counter.

“I’m sure you’ve read all about the drill by now, haven’t you?” She asks with a gentle tilt of her head and an arch of her eyebrow.

Justin laughs when the teller nods his head dumbly in response to Olivia, but when he leads her back to the vault Justin’s face hardens.

“WAIT!” He orders, and both Olivia and the teller stop. Olivia regarding him curiously while the color drains from the teller’s face.

With his free hand Justin wraps his fingers around the teller’s bicep, turning him around. Their faces are a breath apart, and even though they’re whispering Olivia can see the rest of the occupants have their eyes on them. He lets the muzzle of his gun rest thoughtlessly against the man’s chest not bothering to remove his finger from the trigger, and although he smiles, his eyes are like steel when he speaks.

“What’s your name?” He questions, as if they had just met on the street and he was preparing to ask him for the time.

“Arthur,” the teller responds, his voice cracking.

Justin smiles wider and Arthur visibly calms, Justin could charm his way through anything.

“Hi Arthur, I’m Robert,” he lies effortlessly, without a millisecond of hesitation.

“See that woman over there?” He asks as he gestures with his free hand over to Olivia.

She’s far enough away that she can’t hear what he’s saying, but the cold glint in his eyes mixed with the way his smile is slowly turning into a warning speak for themselves and Olivia doesn’t need to know.

“She’s beautiful, don’t you think?” Justin questions, but the teller only shakes in response.

“ANSWER ME!” Justin roars, pressing the nose of his gun harder into the Arthur’s chest.

“Ye-ye-yes,” he sputters, his eyes flicking over to Olivia who has one eye on the bank customers Justin tied up while she polishes her gun.

“Good answer!” Justin continues jovially, smacking the teller hard on the shoulder in agreement before his face returns to its warning glare. “But don’t let it fool you. Last time, when someone tried to be a hero, she broke their fucking nose with the butt of that pretty little gun she’s got there. I can promise you, though, if you try ANYTHING with her, you’ll be dealing with me. And I guarantee you’ll be leaving here with more than a broken nose. If you leave here at all. Understand?”

Arthur doesn’t need to be asked twice, he nods his head quickly and when Justin releases him with a shove he stumbles towards Olivia on trembling legs. Justin gives a cold laugh when she moves to the left to avoid having the man stagger into her. Their eyes lock for only a beat, silent and tender reassurance passing between them, before Olivia pulls back the hammer on her revolver and follows the teller back to the safe.

She returns from the vault unharmed, though it is clear the teller is still terrified by Justin’s promise. Justin and Olivia stride towards the exit, their bag of money slung over Justin’s shoulder and their arms linked as if they were an average couple leaving the bank. They’re almost out the door when a police officer makes his way into the building. The bank stills completely as the eyes of each patron watch as the check the officer had hoped to deposit slips from his fingers and floats to the ground. Seconds pass, and like a light switch has been turned on the officer fumbles for his gun, but it’s already too late. Olivia takes the butt of her pistol and smacks the officer in the temple, watching him as he crumbles to the ground.

“Don’t bother,” Olivia says, looking down her nose as they walk past, “we were just leaving.”

The number one rule of Justin and Olivia’s plan was to always keep a level head, especially while in the building. So when their feet hit the pavement outside, despite all their instincts telling them to run until they can’t anymore, they walk calmly into the crowd and make their way to the car. Just as they’re about to turn the corner at the end of the block two loud bangs ring through the air and it doesn’t take a genius to know they’re gun shots. Olivia gasps in shock, clutching her thigh while Justin grabs her hand and together they run the rest of the way to the car. They peel away from the curb with no hesitation, cutting off a car and almost hitting a pedestrian.

By the time they’re out of the city Justin is checking the rearview mirror almost compulsively, and at about half a mile out of the city it seems they’ve made it and luck has stayed on their side. But as soon as he lets the thought float through his mind two black cars appear, cresting the small hill behind them. Justin lets out a quiet, ‘shit’ and slams down on the accelerator. Olivia has been quiet in the car today, there was no whooping or cheering today, and as soon as she whips her head around to the back window her gun cocks and Justin knows they’re in for a hell of a ride. They’re able to distance themselves from the police cars, and finally, Justin is able to breathe a sigh of relief.

He breathes too soon. They’re speeding by an exit ramp when another police car screeches as it slams on its accelerator to head them off. Justin and Olivia have talked about what their plan was if something like this happened, but he knows they both hoped they would never have to rely on it. The cops are gaining on them and he takes a moment to face Olivia.

“Are you ready?” He asks, his eyes flicking from her to the road to the rearview mirror and back again.

Olivia nods, and Justin notices she seems to have lost all the color in her face.

“You sure?” He asks again, but before she can give him an answer the first pop pop pop of guns sound through the air, jolting them out of their conversation and gives Olivia no choice but to fight back.

The two cars are side by side now, and Olivia can see the whites of the policeman’s eyes. It’s the one from the bank and he looks just as terrified as she feels. He’s the only officer in his car and when Olivia takes a glance at the road in front of them she moves on instinct. There’s a barrier on the left and it feels like the world is moving in slow motion. She reaches for the steering wheel, pulling it to the right, forcing the police car to slam into the barrier, and the crunch of steel on steel rings loudly in her ears. The two other cars are back behind them now, having gained distance since the third black police car appeared. They’re riding close to Justin’s tail on the deserted interstate and no matter how hard he pushes on the gas no distance is being made. Olivia does what they had discussed, and reaches into the back seat for Justin’s gun and rolls down the window. She’s frightened, this is probably the most afraid she’s ever been, but it doesn’t stop her from aiming the gun or pulling the trigger. She shoots in bursts, the bullets hitting the headlights of one of the cars, and then the hood, but eventually they land where she wants them. The right front tire of one of the cars blows out, forcing it to spin out, coming to a crash in a ditch on the side of the freeway. One more to go.

Olivia slips back in the car and for the first time realizes how badly she’s been shot. She’s bleeding on the seat, but she doesn’t think Justin notices yet. Another round comes and a bullet wizzes through the car and out the windshield, missing Justin’s head by mere inches. Olivia hears him gasp and sees the damage as she reloads, taking a deep breath before leaving the relative safety of her seat.

Olivia’s torso is completely outside the car as she shoots, bullets raining on the hood of the last car. A man appears from the side of one of the police vehicles with a gun of his own that immediately hits the back passenger window, launching a spray of broken glass into the back seat and onto Olivia’s face and hair. Her leg has felt like someone is jabbing a molten pole through her leg but the new stinging from the scratches on her face make the pain in her leg recede. At the loss of their partners it is clear that the final police car is determined to bring Justin and Olivia down. She lifts the gun to aim towards the windows. In the first couple shots she breaks through a window and the wild spin of the car tells her she hit someone, but the car doesn’t stop. Another gunman comes from the side and Olivia has no choice but to duck in the car again. She pulls bits of glass from her hair frantically and she checks on Justin again. His knuckles are white and locked tightly on the steering wheel.

“Are you okay?” He yells over the roar of the engine and the wind whistling through the broken glass of their windows.

Olivia opens her mouth but for a moment her voice is lost. “I’m fine,” She gasps, once she finally manages to force her throat to make a sound. “But I can’t get a clean shot, every time I lean out they shoot at me. They’re too good of marksmen, I can’t risk it.”

Justin nods and holds steady on the accelerator, thinking. “Look!” He says, nodding towards the road in front of them. S-curves.

“This is perfect,” he starts, “their car won’t be able to handle the turns as well as ours, and when they’re on the outside loop they won’t have a clear shot at us. So when we get there that’s when you’ve got to shoot.”

Olivia cocks the gun in response and gives Justin a final look before she aims the gun at the last police car. Justin’s prediction is correct, the men can’t get a good shot while they’re on the outside curves, and though that’s good news, probably the best they’ve had today, it doesn’t change the fact that the police are still shooting and Justin and Olivia’s car can’t protect them forever. Olivia takes a deep breath and focuses her aim at the tires of the police car, hoping to only stop them from catching up. But her hands are shaking and as they take the curve the car fishtails, causing her to hit the windshield instead. The car slows immediately, and though she doesn’t know exactly what she hit, the bright red splash of blood on what’s left of the windshield tells her everything she needs to know and they’re free.

They drive for miles, following the sunset until they cross the Tennessee border. They’re panting like they’ve just run a marathon and Olivia checks behind them again, to make sure no one has followed them. Her hair is tangled and undone thanks to the wind from the broken windows and his tommy gun still clutched in a death grip between her fists.

Justin pulls off to the side of the road as soon as he finds a place their car won’t stand out. The engine shutters to a stop and for the first time since they waltzed into that bank this morning there’s silence. It feels like a million years ago, though, and when Justin notices Olivia she seems even paler. She’s looking forward into the willow tree they parked under, gnawing at her bottom lip.

“Close one,” Justin jokes, trying feebly to lighten the mood, though he knows it’s a little insulting to joke after what they’ve just done.

Olivia says nothing, only nods vaguely, still clutching the tommy gun against her chest like a lifesaver. She’s shaking from head to toe and Justin's never seen her like this.

“Olivia,” he says, prying the empty gun away from her fingers and tugging her into his lap, “Olivia, come here.”

Her breath hitches and she lets her forehead fall to his shoulder, shuttering exhales brush Justin’s collarbone and she’s shaking, violently. He runs his hands up and down her arms, shushing her as sobs rack her body. He’s never seen her look so frightened and it makes his heart stutter. Justin’s stomach drops, he didn’t see what happened to the cars but he can guess and it does nothing to calm his guilt. Olivia wraps her arms around his neck, holding him tightly.

“Close, huh?” he asks, rubbing her back softly, trying to calm her while fighting his own guilt, bubbling from his chest like a volcano. It’s his fault she feels this way, it’s his fault she had to do these things. He should have made her drive, and let him do the shooting. He’s a better shot, anyway.

She’s cold and her fingers are clammy when they tug at his shirt, pulling it out of his trousers. Justin is shocked, but the warmth and weight of her body is welcomed after constant fear of the last few hours. He had heard about it before, but there truly is something about dire situations that make hormones rage.

Her lips taste salt water and she’s gasping into his mouth, half sobbing. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” She keeps repeating it and he knows she’s not talking to him, but lets her say it anyway.

He opens his mouth to her, because it’s the only thing he can think of. He does his best to console her with the caress of his lips and the squeeze of his hands, but when his hands slide up her legs his left hand feels something sticky, and then something wet and something warm. He knows what it is before he sees his palm painted red, but he’s astonished Olivia didn’t say anything.

“You’ve been shot!” Justin exclaims, pushing her back so he can see her face and feeling sick again at the thought that she’s given so much of herself away today and he’s still fully whole. He removes his shirt, leaving his chest bare besides his thin cotton tee underneath, and quickly folds it into a thick strip of material. Gingerly, he wraps it around Olivia’s thigh and ties it tightly, hopefully stemming her blood loss, because he’s sure she’s already lost too much.

Olivia observes Justin as he works on her, the color still drained from his face, his brow furrowed in concern, his left palm stained with her blood. Her eyes well up, then, and it’s clear as day, written on his face that he’s panicked and she feels foolish to have thought he was any less devoted to her as she was to him. Her right hand finds its way to cup his face, running her thumb over his stubbled cheek, she kisses him on the lips, hard, deep, saying all the things she can’t handle thinking about right now.

“It’s just a through and through.” she sighs, leaning back against the steering wheel.

“It doesn’t matter!” he yells, holding her by her upper arms, more afraid than angry.

Olivia shrugged, and that small, simple movement leaves her feeling dizzy now that the adrenaline has begun to wear off and the pain in her thigh has progressed to total agony.

“I don’t know…not enough to be really worried” She drifts off, her head falling to his shoulder again, and Justin kicks himself for not noticing how clammy her forehead was when she first laid against his chest.

“We’ve got to get you cleaned up, Liv.” Justin whispers almost whining, brushing back the hair stuck to her neck.

Olivia clutches Justin’s torso, whimpering slightly when Justin moves to set her back in the passenger seat, jostling her leg. Her father warned her about how quick a heist can take a turn for the worst, and to always, always be prepared for that. But with one last racking sob Olivia reflects that her father never had a chance to tell her what to do when that happened, and she's never missed him more than right now. “Where can we go, Justin? If we go to a hospital they’ll have to report it.”

Justin knew that, but there was a reason when they took highway 3 instead of the 269. He wanted to go to Tennessee for this very reason. There was a place he held in his back pocket, his trump card he hoped he’d never have to use. But now, with Olivia hurt Justin knew they had no other choice, no other place they could go. He leaned over to Olivia, whose head was resting against the passenger side window, and pressed a kiss to her shoulder before starting the engine once more and driving the familiar path back to his home.