Eight banks. That’s how far they’ve come. Is that enough, or are they stubborn and reckless enough to try for the ninth and tenth? There are police everywhere when they do their drive through of Montgomery, Alabama and the bank in question appears almost impenetrable. There are police stationed at the door who seem more armed and dangerous than he and Olivia. Despite the gravity of their situation, Justin can’t help but laugh, after eight banks it seems the feds have finally made sense of the madness that was their bank pattern. Olivia shifts in the seat next to him with a groan and the laughter dies in his throat.
This is the result of their carelessness. They had been living like they couldn’t be destroyed, but the bullet wound in Olivia’s thigh is still burning and the old, blood stained bandages on the floorboard of his step father’s truck serve as a reminder of their mortality.
It was an awakening for Justin, he decides, taking a quick sidelong glance at Olivia and then down towards her tightly bandaged thigh. There will be no more, he decides, he will not allow it. It was reckless for them to even try more than one in the first place, he thinks, remembering back to the panic and elation he felt as they sped away, leaving that lone bank in Wisconsin in their dust. A fleeting memory of the exhilaration they shared at getting away slips past his carefully built argument, but he pushes it away roughly. Still…what will Olivia think when he tells her of his decision? Will she want to complete her father’s plan? If this is meant to be her final goodbye, are eight banks really good enough an honor for her father’s plan? She hasn’t been the same since that day in Kentucky, that is for sure, and he doesn’t want to lose anymore of the best thing that’s ever happened to him, so the decision is his to make.
Their drive through is worse than they expect. Police are everywhere, and worse yet are the men in all black, watching, waiting around the police. They attempt discretion all the while gently resting their hands on their concealed weapons. Justin swallows and chances a glance at Olivia. She’s got that rash determination look on her face and that’s not good news.
“It’s the FBI, Olivia…” he pauses to check if her expression changes any way from the stony determination he saw earlier. It hasn’t.
“We’ve never dealt with them before Olivia…and frankly, I’m not so sure we can handle it.” He pauses again to check if she’s changed her mind, but she isn’t even looking at him, her face, her eyes, are locked on the bank building, her neck taut with the decision whether or not to go for it. Justin sees all this and understands…it’s no use.
The drive back to their hotel room is silent but efficient. Justin stops only once to pick up a newspaper. The news his mother told him of the police knowing Olivia’s name and appearance do nothing to quell his concerns, but it seems like this information hasn’t yet been nationally released to the public at least.
The hotel lobby is empty, and by the time they get into their room Olivia is limping again. She toes off her heels and falls into the armchair, sighing. One by one she pulls out the Bobbi pens in her hair. Justin watches as the curls tumble past her shoulders. He sighs in time with her own, remembering a time where a sigh from her was all it took to set his skin on fire. But now, there’s too much else to think about, too many things, guns, money, lists, and most importantly dead police officers between them. He can’t stand it.
“I’ve never seen that much security at a bank before,” Justin comments, sitting on the edge of the bed closest to Olivia.
“No, nor have I,” Olivia agrees, but the way she says it has Justin weary. He tries again to suggest what he has been hoping for since they left his house in Tennessee.
“Maybe, Liv, maybe we should skip this one. Maybe we should quit while we’re ahead.”
Worse than he expected, Olivia ignores his suggestion completely. “I know how to get in, it won’t be that difficult, come on Justin, they don’t even have an accurate description of us, when did you become such a coward?” She smiles teasingly with a roll of her eyes, leaning her head back to look at the ceiling and Justin’s had enough.
“They have your picture, Olivia! My mom told me she saw you once, on the news, they know your whole name, everything! When did you decide to be so reckless, Olivia? Are we just going to pretend what happened after the Kentucky job was just some sort of nightmare? Is what happened to you, to us, so worthless you’re willing to risk everything just to complete some stupid list?”
Olivia’s head snaps forward again and looks Justin dead in the eyes and he knows he said the wrong thing, but he can’t take it back. He looks away, out the window, to the ceiling, anywhere but her and continues.
“We can’t go back to a normal life, but please Olivia, we can escape. Forget the list and come with me. I know a guy in Florida who can get us out. Come with me, live the rest of your life with me. We can go somewhere quiet and warm – we can,” his eyes find hers and he nods, almost imperceptibly, seeing the look of uncertainty on her face, “– we can live by the beach.” He ends hopefully, a ghost of a smile on his face, but when his eyes find hers again, he knows it’s no use. Her expression is cold, hard, and unblinking. He’s never seen this expression directed at him and it’s unnerving.
“That list,” she spits, the word list comes out thick and southern, another sign she’s losing her cool, “is the only thing left I have of my father, Justin, and I made a promise I would finish it. With or without you.”
She stands up, tugging her shoes back on in a fury, ready to storm out their door, but before she makes it two steps Justin is on her, gripping her forearms like steel. “Okay,” he growls, “I’m in, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” His lips press against hers in apology, warm, dry and consoling.
“I’m sorry,” he says again, kissing her, slipping his tongue past her lips, his hands down to hold her waist.
Her kisses in response are fiery and strong, fighting for dominance like every time they’ve fought. He kisses down her neck, laving at the hollow between her collarbones and Olivia’s fingers find Justin’s fly, unbuttoning and unzipping and pushing until his pants drop to his ankles. She smiles, smirks really, before pushing him backwards onto the bed. She reaches up her skirt, slipping her panties down her thighs, off her slim calves and straddles him, hiking up her skirt so it fans over them both, hiding the way her hips are rocking against his, the way his length feels as though it is pressing into her very core.
Olivia shifts and lets out a slow hiss, her leg isn’t fully healed but this feels too good to stop. She reaches under her skirt with both hands, leaning forward onto her knees as she shucks Justin’s briefs down just far enough to give her access to his cock. She watches his face as she strokes him. His lips part to suck a gasp of air, his eyelids flutter before he steals himself and looks into her eyes. She’s stroking him slowly, and just as his tongue darts out to lick his lips she slides him in, leaning forward to catch the gasp that slips out of his mouth with her own. She’s fully seated, he’s fully sheathed, but they’re completely still. Olivia can’t look away, his eyes are bright, his cheeks pink with lust, but at that moment all Olivia can think about is what his mom said to her in their kitchen, and what Justin said to her tonight.
She must have been staring for too long because Justin grunts softly and thrusts his hips forward. Olivia lets out a gasp and responds by rolling her hips forward and back, letting her palms fall forward with a muffled slap onto the comforter, resting by Justin’s ears. She keeps the pace, with help from Justin’s hands on her hips, and she can feel his heat burning through the material of her skirt. Her hips fall down on his, her palm sliding down to rest on his chest, on his stomach, as she rolls up and down, back and forward. She feels his abs clinch when she leans her body forward moving over him at a new angle and she can’t help but groan herself. His hands grip her ass, squeezing her through her skirt. While one hand moves to the small of her back, moving her so her breasts are pressed to his chest, this new angle is perfect, with each rock of her hips Olivia’s clit knocks against Justin’s pubic bone.
She has nowhere to look but his face, her hair forming a curtain around both of them and for a moment, their intimacy is staggering. Justin lifts his head off the bed, his nose brushing her cheek before his lips find hers. Their kiss is gentle, sweet, and so very different than the way this started Olivia finds herself frozen and Justin takes the lead. His hands leave her hips and cup her cheeks, cradling her head, his fingertips massaging her scalp as his lips make their way from her lips to her jaw and back again. He flips them without releasing her lips and he’s on top of her now. This new angle coupled with the added pressure on her leg cause a mingling of pleasure and pain but she won’t stop, she can’t. Their limbs are tangled now, legs and arms and hands and fingers, all wrapped together as one. Justin slows their pace, Olivia can hear each inhale and exhale of breath as Justin thrusts and it takes her a moment to realize her own gasps mixed in with his.
She can’t put a finger on why this feels so different, but tonight has a sense of finality and it leaves her feeling a little unsettled. But when Justin presses into her that final time they come together in a wave of shocks that cause her hips to twitch pleasantly minutes after and leave Justin panting to catch his breath. He rolls off of her, leaving her exposed to the cool air of the hotel room for only seconds before pulling her towards him, her head resting on his chest.
He asks her one final time, “Are you sure you want to do this?”
She stiffens and turns her head away from him as soon as the question leaves his lips. His hands smooth down her arm trying to console her, to take back his question, but it’s too late. In her fury she gives him one word. “Yes.”
----
“Pull over here,” she says, and they’re the first words she’s uttered since they got into the car this morning.
Justin looks as though he means to argue but thinks better of it.
The sidewalks feel foreign under his feet as he walks around the front of the car to help her out of the cab. Her leg is bothering her more this morning than the last and it’s not a good feeling, they’ve never tried anything when one of them was injured. Already, Justin can feel more pairs of eyes on him than ever before, and when Olivia’s feet hit the pavement and her eyes focus past his shoulder to the bank behind him he knows Olivia feels it too.
“What are we doing?” Justin hisses, already worrying that it was a mistake to placate Olivia so quickly last night. He should have fought harder. He should have made her listen.
Olivia’s already counting the number of men surrounding the bank entrance when she answers, “We need to know what kind of police we’re dealing with. If they’re city cops or federal officers.”
“Or both…” Justin mutters under his breath.
Olivia shakes off his doubt and uncertainty, telling herself that they can do this, that they have to do this. But even telling herself these things has her worried, it’s not the way it should be, it’s forced, the entire thing. There’s no turning back now, though, so she takes Justin’s arm and they start on their way to the bank. It takes two steps for both of them to realize something is very, very wrong. Olivia watches as a man in a suit near the front door says something short and clipped to the man next to him and he quickly makes his way into the bank. Justin sees four police officers hurrying on their way towards the bank from the opposite side of the street and they know it’s time to go.
“We’re leaving.” He says, his grip on her arm like iron.
Olivia says nothing but nods, and together they turn around. They’re 100 feet from their car when they hear the man in the suit yell and the clatter of feet on the pavement. Justin grabs her hand and starts to run. They sprint, after only three strides Olivia screams. He whips his head around, thinking the worst, and sees the bloom of deep red from underneath her skirt. Her thigh has started bleeding again.
“Come on, I’ve got you.” Justin says, throwing her arm over his shoulder and hobbling towards their car.
“Leave me!” Olivia yells, “we won’t both make it at this rate. Go!”
Justin looks back and the police are nearly there, a few of them have their hands on their holsters, ready to draw their guns if need be. He presses his lips to hers roughly, her hands cup his cheeks, the back of his neck, and they both know they’ve been still for too long.
Justin gives her one last look, memorizing her features before he whispers, “I’ll come back for you. I’m coming back for you, I swear it.” The ferocity, anger, and determination under his declaration make Olivia feel the safest she’s ever felt.
Olivia gives a miniscule nod of her head, angry with herself for being so stupid, so stubborn, and with Justin for being so easily persuaded. “I’m sorry,” she whispers before pushing him to his feet. He runs without looking back and Olivia fights the sting of abandonment, telling herself he will come back, he swore he’d come back.
The smell of gunpowder and the heavy pop of handguns cut through her daze, bringing her back to the present. The bullets ping off metal and brick and glass, nothing makes that haunting sound of a bullet entering flesh. The blood from her thigh is flowing freely now, pooling around her, making her lightheaded but unconcerned. At the sight of Justin reaching their pick up and speeding away Olivia is elated. She laughs and laughs, her hands falling behind her back, elbows locked to support herself. Olivia hears the feet behind her come to a stop and the shiny, black leather of four sets of police shoes are the last thing she sees before the shooting pain in her temple and everything going dark.
