There was a silence on the line. A long, slow breath exhaled on the other end. And then...
"If you get the money and deliver it in time," he said calmly again, "nobody gets hurt. You have my word."
Like that meant anything.
Like his word ever protected anyone.
I was about to curse him again, rip him to shreds through the receiver, but then…
Faint.
Barely audible.
Just as he was hanging up.
A whisper, so soft I could almost believe I imagined it.
"…I'm sorry."
Click.
The line died.
I stared down at the phone in my hand like it had turned to stone.
A second later, a message popped up on the screen.
Unknown Number
_ 99 Wiltshire Ave, off Millerton Highway. Come alone._
_Two hours. No cops. Or you lose them all._
I didn't think. Didn't stop.
I grabbed the heavy duffel bag filled with cash, slung it over my shoulder and stormed out of the bank like a woman possessed.
