Read Online Smash & Grab by Amy Christine Parker - Free Book Online
Authors: Amy Christine Parker
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stare mutely at him, trying to focus, and then I manage a slow nod. I have this urge to reach up and take off his mask, to see his entire face, but my arms are pinned to my sides.
“Just stay down, okay?” he says, sounding concerned. “I’m not gonna hurt you…at least not again. Sorry.” He pushes the sunglasses back up, and I see my reflection in them, my head still reeling, my mind slowly putting the pieces together. He had a gun. It’s next to me now. He’s a bank robber! My brain buzzes with a swarm of panicked thoughts. Did he use that gun inside? Kill someone? Am I next?
He stands quickly, grabs his gun, and catches up to the other guys with duffel bags on their shoulders, now running for a minivan parked at the end of the sidewalk. He looks back once and waves at me, a little wiggle of his gloved hand before he ducks inside the van. It’s such a weirdly benign gesture that, without thinking, I wave back. On the driver’s side door is a square sign with script lettering: MARY KAY CONSULTANT . I blink a couple of times to make sure I read it right.
That guy. And the others. They just robbed the bank with my account and Quinn’s. Which means I won’t be able to get my money now, at least not here. The police will be coming. This is a crime scene.
The van screeches out onto the road and disappears. I stare after it and try to make sense of the last few minutes.
“Oh my god, are you okay? I’m calling the police, honey—just stay put.” A woman crouches down beside me, coffee in one hand, her cell phone in the other. “Hey, watch where that car goes! Those guys just robbed the bank!” she yells at anyone within earshot. A few guys start chasing after the van, but I’m sure it’s already too far away to catch on foot. I start to get up while she dials one-handed, and then, unbelievably, she hands me her coffee to hold while she finishes up. My head’s all cottony and achy. I manage to stand, but I’m off-balance. I stumble a little.
“I think I need to sit again.” I sink down onto the curb. Quinn and my mother are by my side, finally having caught up.
“Oh my god! Lexi, are you all right?” Mom asks.
How can so many bad things happen in so little time? I open my mouth to say yes, that I’m okay, even though I am most definitely not, but nothing comes out. No words. Instead, I start to cry uncontrollably, like someone’s pulled the zip cord on my emotions and now they’re just billowing out of me.
“That girl came out of nowhere, right?” Benny stares at me, openmouthed. “You all right?”
I shrug, still stunned as the van careens away from Figueroa. I dropped my gun back there. Anything might’ve happened. My insides feel all shook up. I can’t stop trembling. “She hit her head kinda hard.” I shudder, remembering the sound it made. “I didn’t mean to hurt her. She was just there and I couldn’t move fast enough.”
“She’ll be all right,” Carlos says. “She was sittin’ up when we left.”
He’s right, but I wish I could go back and make sure.
“Homeboy waved at her. You see that? And she waved back!” Gabriel looks at me and cracks up. “Player still has game even when he’s running for his life.”
“Nah,” I say, but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t noticed how cute she was. Even half crazy on panic and adrenaline, I couldn’t
not
notice.
We ditch the van a couple of blocks down from a 7-Eleven and walk the rest of the way. Gabriel sends Carlos inside to buy us Slurpees while we get our new ride. A light blue Chevy Impala was left in the store’s parking lot half an hour ago by some of Soldado’s guys, with the keys tucked inside a magnetic key box behind the driver’s side front tire. In the movies dudes always torch their getaway cars, but in the real world that makes zero sense. It’s like sending the police a smoke signal. Literally.
If we’re lucky, the van won’t catch anyone’s eye for hours, and no one will have any idea how it
“Just stay down, okay?” he says, sounding concerned. “I’m not gonna hurt you…at least not again. Sorry.” He pushes the sunglasses back up, and I see my reflection in them, my head still reeling, my mind slowly putting the pieces together. He had a gun. It’s next to me now. He’s a bank robber! My brain buzzes with a swarm of panicked thoughts. Did he use that gun inside? Kill someone? Am I next?
He stands quickly, grabs his gun, and catches up to the other guys with duffel bags on their shoulders, now running for a minivan parked at the end of the sidewalk. He looks back once and waves at me, a little wiggle of his gloved hand before he ducks inside the van. It’s such a weirdly benign gesture that, without thinking, I wave back. On the driver’s side door is a square sign with script lettering: MARY KAY CONSULTANT . I blink a couple of times to make sure I read it right.
That guy. And the others. They just robbed the bank with my account and Quinn’s. Which means I won’t be able to get my money now, at least not here. The police will be coming. This is a crime scene.
The van screeches out onto the road and disappears. I stare after it and try to make sense of the last few minutes.
“Oh my god, are you okay? I’m calling the police, honey—just stay put.” A woman crouches down beside me, coffee in one hand, her cell phone in the other. “Hey, watch where that car goes! Those guys just robbed the bank!” she yells at anyone within earshot. A few guys start chasing after the van, but I’m sure it’s already too far away to catch on foot. I start to get up while she dials one-handed, and then, unbelievably, she hands me her coffee to hold while she finishes up. My head’s all cottony and achy. I manage to stand, but I’m off-balance. I stumble a little.
“I think I need to sit again.” I sink down onto the curb. Quinn and my mother are by my side, finally having caught up.
“Oh my god! Lexi, are you all right?” Mom asks.
How can so many bad things happen in so little time? I open my mouth to say yes, that I’m okay, even though I am most definitely not, but nothing comes out. No words. Instead, I start to cry uncontrollably, like someone’s pulled the zip cord on my emotions and now they’re just billowing out of me.
“That girl came out of nowhere, right?” Benny stares at me, openmouthed. “You all right?”
I shrug, still stunned as the van careens away from Figueroa. I dropped my gun back there. Anything might’ve happened. My insides feel all shook up. I can’t stop trembling. “She hit her head kinda hard.” I shudder, remembering the sound it made. “I didn’t mean to hurt her. She was just there and I couldn’t move fast enough.”
“She’ll be all right,” Carlos says. “She was sittin’ up when we left.”
He’s right, but I wish I could go back and make sure.
“Homeboy waved at her. You see that? And she waved back!” Gabriel looks at me and cracks up. “Player still has game even when he’s running for his life.”
“Nah,” I say, but I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t noticed how cute she was. Even half crazy on panic and adrenaline, I couldn’t
not
notice.
We ditch the van a couple of blocks down from a 7-Eleven and walk the rest of the way. Gabriel sends Carlos inside to buy us Slurpees while we get our new ride. A light blue Chevy Impala was left in the store’s parking lot half an hour ago by some of Soldado’s guys, with the keys tucked inside a magnetic key box behind the driver’s side front tire. In the movies dudes always torch their getaway cars, but in the real world that makes zero sense. It’s like sending the police a smoke signal. Literally.
If we’re lucky, the van won’t catch anyone’s eye for hours, and no one will have any idea how it
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