Bandit Bound: A Bad Boy Romance Novel (7 page)

"But, I don't get it," Savannah stuttered.

"Of course, you don't. Don't worry about it, I'm not gonna hurt you," he replied. Savannah found him oddly convincing, despite the intense situation that they were in. "Unless you want me to." The fox mask turned to Savannah and she could practically see the smug smile right through it.

Vincent smacked her on the ass firmly, causing her to gasp and take a few steps forward extra quickly. Blood rushed to her cheeks and a shiver went down her spine. She shifted her eyes left and right, seeing if anyone was around to witness what just happened. She was strangely happy that no one saw so that she could secretly relish in the moment.

"Where are you taking me?" she asked. She betrayed herself with the tone; half fear, half excitement.

"Just a little place of mine, it's all a part of the plan," he continued. "You should just be glad that no one else saw you hit that alarm," he added in a very hushed voice.

Savannah stopped walking and stared at him. Fear overtook her.
Is he going to kill me?
She wondered. Vincent spun around and grabbed her arm once again, this time more firmly and dragged her along.

"I don't care, I'll be fine," he said with certainty. "Just saying."

The sunlight was almost blinding when they opened the back door. Several cars and vans were parked in the back. It was then that Savannah realized how the whole heist had gone down, or at least mostly.

The plumbing van, the ventilation van and two other maintenance trucks were parked there. In every one of them there was a man in an animal mask.
They made it easy for them to break in,
Savannah thought. Wow.

"Okay, in you go," Vincent said gesturing to a black van.

"You promise you're not going to hurt me?" Savannah asked as she lightly pulled away from him, refusing to enter.

"I'll spank you if you're being bad," he remarked. Savannah didn't respond and Vincent laughed out loud, muffled again by the mischievous mask. "Seriously, though, this isn't a yes or no question. Get in the van. I promise I won't hurt you." He sounded annoyed and empathetic at the same time.

Savannah climbed into the back of the van. There was a long block, apparently intended for seating. She plopped her bottom onto it.
Wow, what is that, velvet?
She thought.
Fancy.

Vincent got in behind her, holding a pair of handcuffs.

"Hands behind your back," he said.

"What? No," Savannah said in fear.

"Yes," Vincent said. "I'm not going to ask twice and I'm only going to tell you one more time: I'm not going to hurt you. This is a precaution so you don't hurt yourself."

Savannah pulled away from him. She felt a strange mix of fear and trust. Seeing him there with the handcuffs in his hand in his expensive suit triggered something deep inside of her. She felt alive.

She nodded and put her hands behind her back. Vincent reached over her and put the handcuffs on. She could smell the woody, musky cologne that he was wearing. It was delightful.
I'm going to be okay,
she thought, trying to convince herself. Vincent left and closed the rear doors behind him.

The passenger side door swung open and Vincent got in. He took off his mask and tossed it into the back of the van. The driver did the same.

"Not much time," Vincent remarked. "Let's take this lovely lady to number forty-six, and we'll figure it out from there."

"Forty-six, huh? So, it's like that? Lucky girl," the driver said with a chuckle. The car took off out of the parking lot.

Savannah couldn't hear the sirens anymore.

7

The rumble of the car was deafeningly loud to Savannah, who bumped up and down as the van drove over various terrains, taking a route she was unfamiliar with.

Savannah remembered something on a true crime show she saw on TV. Someone who had been kidnapped memorized all of the turns their captors took in order to figure out where she'd be taken. She started to do the same.

Left. Straight. Straight. Left. Straight.

"So, Savannah," Vincent said, his head turned around from the passenger side and looked directly into her eyes. Savannah blushed at the glance and looked downward at her feet, not wanting to show Vincent that he had any sort of power over her.

"Yes?" Savannah replied.

"I'm gonna have to put this on you now," he said as he held a long strip of black cloth in front of her. It looked soft.

"What? That? That's a blindfold," she said, scolding herself for sounding so dumb in front of him.

Right, straight. Left. Right.

"Yeah, you need to wear it. Don't make me come back there," he said cheekily with a smirk. Savannah trembled as Vincent approached her in the moving van. The smooth fabric was more inviting for her to do as he said.
Is this for sex stuff?
Savannah wondered.

"I'm just going to wrap it around your head and tie it off. I know how to do it just right. I'm kind of a pro, so just stay still," Vincent said.

Savannah did as he asked as he firmly wrapped it around her head and completely obscured her vision. She could have tried to cheat it anyways, but she felt compelled not to.
I don't think he wants to hurt me, I think he wants to screw me,
she thought.
He's not getting either.

"You follow orders well," Vincent said. "I like that in a lady."

"Great," Savannah said sarcastically. "Glad to please."
I always wanted to be handcuffed and blindfolded by a hot guy, but this isn't exactly what I had in mind
, Savannah thought.

"The attitude needs some work, though," he replied.

"So when is this over?" Savannah replied, her emotions flaring. "If you're not gonna kill me, what are you going to do? Ransom me?"

"Why, you got rich parents or something?" Vincent replied in an amused tone.

Savannah laughed out loud and leaned her head back, accidentally banging it against the side of the van.

"Jesus," Vincent said with concern.

"I'll ask them in a couple decades," she replied. "Or maybe a few hours if I'm wrong about you."

"How do you mean?" Vincent asked, now with sincere interest.

"I never met my parents. They're dead," Savannah answered as tears lightly welled in her blindfolded eyes. The driver rolled down his window and a cool breeze started to blow into the vehicle. The cold air mingled with Savannah's sweaty skin and eased her slightly.

"I'm sorry to hear that," Vincent said. The cheeky exterior of his personality chipped away for a moment and his voice sounded exposed, vulnerable.

"Can I ask you a question now?" Savannah said, trying to change the subject.

"Sure," Vincent said.

"My manager regarded you so highly, and you're obviously wealthy. Why in hell are you robbing a bank, let alone a bank that you bank at?" Savannah poured out.

Vincent replied only with a laugh at first and then a very long pause. Several minutes passed by in total silence. The car took a sharp, unexpected turn to the right and Savannah was tossed onto the ground.

"You okay?" Vincent asked. Savannah didn't answer, but instead felt her way around in the blind darkness and re-found her seat.

"Ah, the silent treatment," he said. "Because I won't answer your very incriminating question."

"Just seems really evil for some rich guy to steal even more money and to traumatize all those poor people just trying to get through their day," Savannah said bitterly.

Vincent loudly exhaled.

"That's not what it's like," he said fiercely.

"Hey," the driver said cautiously. "Watch it, Vance."

Left. Right. Left? It was getting hard to remember.

Vance? Savannah thought. Is that his real name?

"Really? Cause that's what it looks like to me, Vance," Savannah said as she tested her luck against her armed captors.
I don't know why I keep saying stuff like that,
she thought. A strange braveness had overtaken her.

"It looked like the ventilation guys were doing some maintenance, too, didn't it?" Vincent asked.

"I guess?" Savannah replied, unsure of what the point was. A strong odor of gasoline was now present.

"Exactly. Not everything's what it looks like. I thought a smart girl like you would know that," he said. His cool demeanor was fading away and Savannah could tell that she'd struck a nerve. She struck further.

"Need a new yacht or something? Your trophy wife bored? Maybe you need some quick cash for a jetpack?" she snapped back.

"You want me to gag her, Vance?" the driver asked.

"She's a fierce one, but no. After all, she doesn't know what she's talking about in the first place. Her problem, not mine," Vincent answered. He seemed genuinely upset at the accusations.

"Please, then, enlighten me," Savannah said. Vincent did not answer.

"Listen, little lady, it's time to be quiet," the driver said.

"How about you focus on the road and your driving so you don't knock me over and kill me?" Savannah snapped back.

"She really is mouthy, huh, Vance?" The driver amusedly commented to Vincent.

Why'd he get so mad when I called him out?
Savannah wondered.
He's a bank robber, not a saint, so why's he pretending that he isn't doing something wrong? Maybe I'm wrong about it. No, impossible. Look where I am.

That's when the sirens went off.

The driver immediately pulled up the window, but not before Savannah let out a shrill scream of "Help!"

"God damn it," the driver said in fury. "Shut the hell up back there!" The tension in the air was thick enough to cut with a knife. Savannah's heart went into overdrive as she wondered if she just gave herself a death sentence.

"Pull over," Vincent said calmly. The driver sighed loudly, and Savannah could feel in her blindness the car slow down and turn right.

An agonizing moment of waiting followed. The sirens got louder and louder until they were blaring right in Savannah's ear.

Then they got a little quieter. More still. They faded into the distance.

The car swung back onto the road and picked up speed.

"That wasn't smart," Vincent said with a grave tone.

"Seemed like a good idea at the time," Savannah answered.
God, I'm going to get myself killed if I keep saying shit like that
, she thought.

"If we were regular criminals, one of us probably would have killed you by now," Vincent said.

Savannah shuddered.

"Fortunately, we're not regular criminals."

Savannah wasn't exactly calmed down by the assurance. She was sweating harder than ever.
Thank God I put on deodorant, she thought,
giving herself the smallest smile in the tensest situation of her life.

Savannah tried to remember the turns the van had taken. She failed to recall.
Oh, God,
she thought.

"Alright, alright, alright," the driver said giddily. "We here."

"Great," Vincent replied.

"Awesome," Savannah added sarcastically.

The rear doors swung open and she heard footsteps approach her. She waited in anticipation for the blindfold and handcuffs to come off.

Instead, she felt a hand lightly brush against her breast, a finger pushing against her nipple, which she just noticed now was hard.

"Hey!" she yelled breathlessly, caught by surprise. The blindfold slipped off her head and before her was Vincent's face with a small smile on it. Savannah squirmed with an uncomfortable wetness between her legs.

"Hey," he said back. He reached behind her once more and undid the handcuffs. Savannah immediately stretched out her arms, relaxing them from the tension of having them stuck in one position for the entirety of the car trip. Cool air blew in from the rear doors, cooling her down.