Behind the mask, p.3
BEHIND THE MASK, page 3
“I wasn’t aware that we had started one,” he sharply retorted, loosening up his jacket.
He was agitated. She had touched a nerve. He wasn’t used to someone standing up to him, especially a hostage.
She managed to keep her mouth shut, for all of a minute. “Can you please just talk to me?” she begged, dreading the silence.
He sighed again, tipping his head back against the boxes and staring up at the ceiling. She thought she was getting through to him, but her hoped dashed, when he remained silent.
“Okay, I give up,” she whispered.
“What kind of car?” he suddenly asked, his eyes still focused on the ceiling.
“What?” she asked stunned that he spoke.
“What kind of car did your ex-boyfriend steal?”
She smiled. “A Lamborghini Murciélago.”
“How in the hell did he steal one of those?” he asked, coming off mildly impressed.
She shrugged.
“Did you at least get to drive it?”
She shook her head no. “The cops showed up before I set foot in it.”
“That sucks,” he quipped.
“Yeah, they hauled him away and took the car too. And do you know he actually had the nerve to call me to bail him out.”
For a brief second, Liam half-heartedly laughed, catching her completely off guard.
“Did you?”
“Did I what?” she questioned back.
“Did you bail him out?”
“Hell no, I didn’t have a pot to piss in let alone bail his sorry ass out.”
He resisted the urge to laugh again because though he found her to be quite entertaining, he didn’t want to keep conversing with her.
“So what’s your story?” she casually asked as if she were chatting with an old friend.
“Let’s just get back to being quiet,” he suggested.
“That’s not fair I told you something about me.”
“Because you wanted to,” he said, shifting his legs to get more comfortable, and once again he clammed up. On the other hand, she was antsy and needed to move.
She wandered around the vault, all the while wondering how much longer they’d be in there.. Also, wondering if her parents were aware of what was going on. She thought by now the authorities and media must have been alerted. Everyone would be worried. She thought about Jenna and the others and what was possibly happening out in the lobby.
Liam didn’t pay much attention to her roaming. Instead, he fooled with gun clips and looked over what appeared to be a map of some kind.
After a while, she wormed her way over and casually plopped down right next to him. She was very close, yet he didn’t move away. Of course she wasn’t much of a threat, so he probably didn’t feel the need to.
Being in such proximity lead to more curiosity.
Glancing at the guns, she asked, “Are you a good shot?”
Under the mask, he half-grinned, then boasted, “I do okay.”
“Are you some kind of sniper or something?”
He turned to face her and smugly replied, “Or something.”
No elaboration, which wasn’t surprising. Neither was the return of silence. Unable to keep herself occupied, she yawned a couple times.
“Take a nap. We could be here a while,” he oddly suggested.
She smirked, “Yeah right, like I trust you.”
She wasn’t sure why she had said that because in some weird way she did trust him.
“I won’t do anything to you,” he assured. She wasn’t fully convinced.
“Put it this way, out of the five of us, you’re lucky that it was me you got locked in here with.”
He paused then added, “The other four aren’t as nice.”
She chuckled, “You consider yourself nice?”
He smirked, having to admit, although not to her, that he appreciated the witty sarcasm. Her mind was plagued with many questions. Liam sensed she was perplexed, but not wanting to start another conversation, he neglected to find out. They’ve been locked in there for at least four hours. She was exhausted both physically and emotionally, and since he was no longer talking, she saw no point in not catching a few minutes of sleep. She curled up on the cold, tiled floor and tried to get comfortable. It was not an ideal place to sleep, but it would have to do. Within a few seconds she drifted off.
While she slept, Liam checked each of the explosives, then peeked over at his sleeping hostage who was snoozing pretty soundly considering where she was. He had never regretted his decisions; stealing was a means to an end. Guilt was something he kept at bay. An expert at being selfish, he made zero apologies for it, but he didn’t enjoy dealing with hostages. He preferred the jobs that were done overnight, where no one else was involved, or the smash and grab ones where everything was done in record time. , On the other hand, Charles and Tom took great pleasure in watching innocent people suffer. Up until that point though, no hostage had ever been sexually violated or killed under Liam’s watch, and he had planned on keeping it that way. Even though he did threaten Remi, he never had any intention of harming her. He hated to admit it, but she was absolutely correct in her assessment of him. He was certainly no angel, but she was safe—at least with him.
He stood nearby, listening to the soft, delicate snore escaping from her lips. For her to be able to sleep like that either proved she could block anything out, or she trusted him.
Loathing deviation, he was pissed the job went awry. But there wasn’t much he could do about it. Instead, he kneeled down and took everything out of his coat pockets including the velvet bag, which he slipped safely into his front pants’ pocket. He then removed his coat, neatly folded it up, then carefully inserted his hand beneath her head. Gently lifting it, he then slid the coat underneath. She never flinched. About five seconds later, he rethought what he had just done and knew he had crossed the line. He didn’t care about her. He just didn’t think she deserved to be trapped in a vault with a gunman. No turning back though; the damage was done. So he decided to take a moment to rest himself. Crawling a few feet away, he leaned up against the wall and stretched out his long legs. He wasn’t necessarily tired, he just needed to regroup. Before long, he too was asleep.
CHAPTER 3
She had been sleeping for only thirty minutes, but it felt like hours. When she first opened her eyes, she was unable to focus. She desperately wanted to believe that she was at home in bed, just having a horrendous nightmare, but the harsh reality sunk in when she fully woke up. She was still inside the vault., but also still alive and unharmed. Scratching her head, she immediately felt something underneath. “What the hell?”
Quickly sitting up, she spotted the black jacket and instantly looked for the gunman, who was perched on the other side and appeared to be sleeping. Picking up the jacket, she took note that he was no longer wearing his. She couldn’t fathom that he would have done something like that. It didn’t make any sense.
Remi held it for a minute, all the while not taking her eyes off of the sleeping masked man. At that point, she wasn’t thinking clearly and any good judgment she might have had, was nowhere to be found. So in a stealth-like manner, she quietly crawled over and got as close as she possibly could without alerting him. He was completely motionless, but his gloved right-hand fingers steadily wrapped around his gun. She couldn’t tell if he was truly asleep, so she inched closer to get a better view.
The temptation to peek under the mask was intense. For a couple minutes, she was successful in talking herself out of going through with it, but when his head slightly angled back, the opportunity arose. Extending her right hand to his neck, she curled her index and middle fingers just beneath the rim of the mask, without touching his skin. She froze, holding her breath for a moment, deciding to count to ten. “One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine...” but stopped short of ten. She wavered. Breathing in and out, panic loomed, and no matter how stupid it was she just couldn’t stop herself. Curiosity killed the cat quickly came to mind, along with wondering what her fate would be.
Taking a firm hold of the mask, she began carefully peeling it off. Oh the anticipation, she thought. But the big reveal wasn’t meant to be. He suddenly seized a hold of her hand and angrily warned, “Don’t!”
“I wasn’t…I mean I…I,” she stuttered.
“I know what you were going to do,” he barked, tightly squeezing her hand.
“I swear I wasn’t.”
He let go, shoved her aside, and adjusted the mask. He then aimed the gun at her. “You aren’t too smart are you?”
Cowering against the deposit boxes, she placed her hands over her face, fearing he was about to go postal.
“Dammit!” he yelled. “If you took off my mask, that would change everything.”
With her hands still concealing her face, she squeaked out, “Why?”
“If you saw my face, I’d have no choice but to kill you,” he advised.
She peeked up at him and disputed, “I don’t believe for one second, you’d really kill me.”
“Again you are making an assumption that you shouldn’t be.”
Fear started to creep up inside. Maybe she had been underestimating him. Maybe his softening was just a ruse.
“How did you know what I was about to do?” she asked, admitting her guilt.
“One of the first things they teach in hostage taking 101,” he replied sarcastically, “Is to sleep with one eye open.”
“Then what’s with you putting your jacket under my head?”
“Your point?”
“You expect me to be afraid of you, but you contradict yourself.”
Having heard enough, he stepped towards her and raised the gun. As she stared into the barrel, she took a deep breath, wondering if he would be able to pull the trigger. The need to test him was both overwhelming and idiotic, so she got up on her feet then took a few steps back away from him. His eyes displayed confusion, along with much frustration. He was losing the upper hand.
“You either have a death wish or you really are stupid.”
“Maybe I just called your bluff,” she stated, mustering what little nerve she had left.
He smirked then tossed the gun on top of the duffel bag.
She was proud of herself, but was fully aware that he could snap at any time, so she wasn’t declaring victory just yet. Instead she sat back down, feeling somewhat relieved. He followed suit and sat down beside her. She didn’t know if she should be flattered or frightened, maybe a little of both. But the fact he put the gun aside showed he was letting his guard down.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, turning to look at him.
“For what?”
“For trying to take off your mask.”
“You aren’t helping yourself by playing tough with me.”
“I know it was stupid, but I was curious,” she confessed. He nodded, letting her know he understood.
They both had sat quietly for about fifteen minutes before she spoke again. “How much longer do you think we will be in here?”
He eyed his watch, “I would hope not much longer.”
“Then what?”
“Then it will be over,” he casually replied.
“I’ll be free?”
That garnered no response.
“Will I be freed?” she asked, her voice cracking with urgency.
“I honestly can’t answer that.”
Tears started pooling in her eyes, but she refused to appear too vulnerable, so she willed them to stop. Reality was biting, as her demise was a scary possibility. But oddly enough, she was convinced it wouldn’t be at the hands of him. Maybe she was delusional but no matter how intimidating he was, he had ample opportunity to kill her, but backed down each time.
Then out of the blue, he asked, “Still hungry?”
“No, the crackers filled me,” she lied. She could have eaten more, but a hint of nausea loomed, making food unappealing.
“When we leave the vault, are you going to let them kill me?” she questioned in an almost inaudible tone. But he heard her.
“I’m not even sure of my own safety. I could be killed as well,” he responded nonchalantly.
“You would give up your life for this?”
“It’s part of the job.”
“How can you think like that?” she asked completely dumbfounded.
He just shrugged.
“If you don’t care, why does it matter if I see your face?”
“The less you know, the better.”
She got the strangest feeling that he was somehow protecting her; a thought she found comforting, but regardless was beginning to feel sicker and in desperate need of a diversion. She continued the inquisition, in hopes he’d keep talking.
“So, if you’re a sniper so to speak, why choose the bad and not the good?”
“You mean why did I become a criminal?”
She nodded.
“Easy way to get money fast,” he replied.
“Did you fail in school?”
“No. I did quite well. I had a full ride to one of the most prestigious universities in the country.”
“Impressive. What university?” she innocently asked.
“Nice try,” he commended.
He was definitely thawing. Especially since he was actually holding a conversation.
“I pretty much had my whole life mapped out for me from the moment I could walk, but hated being told how to live it,” he said.
“So what happened?”
“My parents had impossible expectations of me. They expected me to be the best at everything. No one ever asked what I wanted.”
He suddenly got up and paced.
“You didn’t want to go to college?”
“No, I did. It was just assumed I’d work with my Dad once I graduated, and when I chose not to, he was offended.”
“So, robbing banks was your way of sticking it to him,” she surmised.
He smirked. “I just wanted more. Much more,” he emphasized.
“I get the whole money thing, but what about the hostages, how can you be so cold?”
“No emotions, no involvement, hostages are just part of the job.”
She crinkled her forehead. “I don’t buy that.”
“I don’t care if you buy it or not,” he snapped, an obvious attempt to prove his point.
She was taken aback. The wall she had thought was broken down reemerged in a detached hardened way.
“Just whom are you trying to convince here—me or you?” she brazenly asked, standing up and putting out her hands to stop him from pacing.
Again she was challenging him, unfamiliar territory for Liam.
“We’re done,” he stated coldly. He sidestepped her, only to have her sidestep right along with him, purposely blocking his way.
“You don’t like not having control, do you?”
He ignored that statement, but she wasn’t disheartened. Even with him still refusing to reveal his face or identity, he divulged much more than she thought he would. Though the return of his icy demeanor cast a chill in the vault, she wasn’t about to give up.
“When we go back out there, are you going to let me go?” Accentuating the words you and me, she hoped that no matter what he proclaimed, he felt some sort of empathy.
“The man in charge makes that decision.”
“What if he shoots me?” she cried.
Her sad eyes pleaded, but he didn’t know what to say, confirming her worst fears. Nausea hit with a vengeance. A wastebasket in a corner caught her eye, so she ran to it. Hunching over, she made it just in time as the peanut butter crackers resurfaced, in a not so good way.
Liam watched her for a moment then reached into the duffel bag and removed a small towel. “Here,” he said, handing it to her.
“Thanks.”
She staggered over to a folding chair. As soon as she plopped down, he placed a new bottle of water on the table, directly in front of her. She sipped it slowly, not wanting to upset her stomach again.
“Feeling better?” he asked.
“Oh let’s see. Knowing that I will probably die soon, kind of makes one feel pretty damn shitty.”
He slid the other chair over to the table and sat down across from her. Tired and frustrated, he mirrored how she was feeling. Her eyes began to fill with tears and couldn’t keep them from falling. One by one, they trickled down her cheeks.
Liam just sat there, seemingly unmoved by the water works. Guess he wasn’t so warm after all, she thought. She hated feeling pathetic. Always priding herself to deal with whatever was thrown her way, this unimaginable situation had completely broken her.
After what seemed like twenty minutes of a constant flow of tears, he finally acknowledged the crying and affirmed, “I won’t let them kill you.”
Those six words were music to her ears.
“You won’t?” she asked, swiping her fingers across her cheeks, erasing the wet trails.
He shook his head no.
“How do I know you aren’t lying?”
“Because I’m a man of my word.”
“So I’m just supposed take your word when it wasn’t that long ago you were threatening to shoot me?”
“Either you believe me or you don’t.”
She desperately wanted to. Up until that point he hadn’t given her any reason she shouldn’t. But she wondered if she could count on him. She guessed she’d eventually found out.
“Wonder what is happening out in the lobby.”
He shrugged.
“You probably have an idea though, right?”
“I have no idea what is going on out there. The police could have already ended it and when we leave, you will be free and I will either be killed or arrested.”
“And if they haven’t?”
“Then the job is finished, and we leave,” he replied.
“And what about the other hostages?”
He stayed quiet, which wasn’t a positive sign. “How’s your stomach?” he asked, changing the subject.
“I guess it’s okay,” she lied as the queasiness lingered. “Can I ask you something?”
“No,” he quickly replied smirking but then said, “Go ahead.”
