I have my hand rested on my .38 caliber revolver when we pull into the parking lot. Owen parks the van and I pull on my mask before he even kills the ignition.

“Hey, look at me man.” He twists the key and turns towards me. “Are you good?”

I nod before flinging open my door. Owen rushes to pull his mask on and I wait for him to grab his Remington before jumping out of the car.

I push through the doors and Owen throws up his shotgun.

“Down! Everyone get the fuck down,” he yells. The air leaves the room in a series of gasps. I quickly survey the tellers before zip tying the front door.

“Let’s go! Everyone to the middle of the room. Hurry!” he orders.

I slip around Owen and step over a teller with gelled black hair. In front of him is a customer lying flat on his stomach with his face pressed against the ground. It always pains me a little when customers are involved.

“Phones!” Owen barks. “Throw your phones, let me see them.”

“Where’s the girl?” I ask, scanning the room for the one female teller I saw when we entered. But there’s nothing. Not a single movement.

Fuck.

I dart toward the counter, launch myself over and land a few feet from her crawling body. She turns back at me and freezes.

“Did you flip the switch?” I ask, tracing my fingers under the counter as I close the distance between us. As soon as I’m within a foot she spins forward, scurrying hastily toward an alarm under the far end of the counter. I drop to my knees and lunge at her, catching an ankle and pulling back.

My revolver falls from its holster and rattles on the floor. Without letting go of her ankle, I reach for the gun.

I have it pointed right as she rolls onto her back. “That was a bad idea.”

Her dark brown eyes glare up at me as she catches her breath.

“Now get up,” I order, but she only narrows her eyes. “Get up!”

Slowly, she pushes herself first to her knees, then her feet.

“What’s your name, sweetie?” I ask with my revolver raised.

“Bella,” she spits back with defiance.

“You know, Bella, that’s not something I’d recommend trying again.”

“Fuck you.”

I nestle the revolver’s nose in her long black hair. “I’m going to give you a chance to redeem yourself now,” I say, nodding at Owen.

He nods back, then takes a step forward and aims his shotgun at an employee on the floor.

“You do anything like that again and that gentleman over there is going to have a really bad day,” I whisper. “You got that?”

She barely nods.

“You cost us a lot of valuable time so we’re going straight to the vault, and you’re going to unlock it for me.”

I guide her all the way to the back corner of the bank, but she stops before the door.

“Let’s go!” I nudge her forward but she steps right back. “Come on,” I growl, nestling the revolver in her hair again. “That poor man is counting on you. Now open the doors.”

“No.” Her face is completely blank. I feel the muscles clench in my jaw.

“I swear to God you don’t want to do this.”

“I’m not doing anything for you,” she hisses. “They warned us and I’m sure they’re on the way.”

My chest surges with fury. Owen and I have long agreed that we’ll never harm anyone innocent, employee or customer, but as the seconds tick away I can’t help but feel like I’m running out of options.

“I’m giving you three seconds before I pull this trigger,” I say through my teeth. “One. Two—” The word is on my tongue as a single shot fires up into the roof.

“Let’s go!” Owen shouts before pumping his shotgun and bringing it back down to the customer.

“I’ll do it!” blurts the teller with gelled black hair.

“What did you say?” Owen asks, lifting and aiming his Remington at him.

“I said I’ll do it,” the man quivers. He covers his head with his arms. “Please don’t shoot.”

“Get up,” Owen says. He lowers his shotgun and the man immediately springs to his feet.

Bella’s body tenses beside me. “No, Eric, don’t—”

“Get down,” I tell her. “Now. Lay on the ground.”

Slowly, she bends her knees and folds onto the floor. The man stops beside her and I gesture for him to open the lock. My legs pulse with energy as he twists. I feel like I can see each and every second evaporating into the air in front of me.

As soon as the lock clicks, I throw open the door and pull Eric into the room in front of us. “The vault—unlock the vault,” I shout, turning and pointing my revolver at Bella. “And don’t you fucking move.”

The man mumbles something as he begins twisting.

“What did you say?” I ask, but just then comes a click as the steel hinges unlatch. Finally.

I keep my revolver aimed as I yank the wheel, but nothing moves. I holster my revolver and try again, pulling with the violent weight of my whole body. Nothing.

I kick the vault furiously.

“Open it up!” I yell, turning toward the man.

He winces and stutters before the words make it all the way out: Time-delay.

I curse with my every ounce of rage and kick the vault again.

Owen yells to me from the other room, but I don’t have time to respond.

“How long?” I ask the man. And when Bella snickers from her spot on the ground, I repeat myself just to drown her out. “How long?”

“Five-minutes,” he whimpers, closing his eyes like he’s expecting a bullet right then and there.

Fuck. I clench my fist and bite down on my lip.

We’re running out of time.

“Get down on the ground,” I order him. “Next to her.”

I pull the phone from my pocket and select Cliff’s number. It rings once and I unleash the second I hear his voice.

“We need more time!”

“What?”

“More time!” Adrenaline is pulsing throughout my every vein and I can feel nothing but time moving faster and faster.

“I can’t—”

“More time!”

I can hear Cliff mumble something to conceal the conversation. “How long?” he whispers.

“Five minutes.”

“That’s not—”

“Come on!” Panic is starting to prickle my skin. I wipe sweat from my forehead.

Cliff exhales a thick growl. “You better hurry,” he snarls, and immediately I punch off the call.

My eyes dart to the clock on the wall. It’s been a minute and a half since I first attempted the vault. Ninety goddam seconds that we can’t afford right now.

We’re not going to make it.

I draw my revolver and aim it at Bella. “Get against the wall. Both of you.”

I wait for the man to join her before stepping out and closing the door.

“We’ve gotta go,” Owen says.

I hand him the knife from my pocket and begin racing through the registers as he cuts the zip ties. He shoves open the doors and I throw the rest of what I can into the pillowcase before following him out.

The sunlight is sharp. We leap through the doors of the van and Owen immediately turns the key in the ignition.

There’s no time to call Cliff again. No time to get word on where they’re responding from. We just need to go.

Fast.

The tires skirt as we drift onto the highway. I roll down my window and pull the mask off my face. I can’t tell exactly which direction they’re coming from, but there’s sirens blaring in the distance.