“This is going to be fun,” Eric said.

“Could you do your job?” Donovan asked him.

“Oh, right.” He jumped back and started grabbing the nylon duffel bags that one of the others had brought out of the vault. I couldn’t believe that a bank that size carried that much cash. Sirens blared in the distance, and I wondered if I should be relieved or worried. It was a strange feeling. I was on the side of the law. I worked as a consultant for the Albuquerque Police Department. Surely my participation in a bank robbery would look bad. But adrenaline was coursing through my veins, and I couldn’t help but wish they’d hurry the heck up.

As the guys started filing out, Michael swaggered up to us. I could tell it was him because no one did swagger like Michael. “A hostage,” he said, offering me a nod in greeting. “Cool.” Then he walked out to the van like he hadn’t a care in the world.

Oh, yeah. These guys were crazy with a side of fries.

Donovan dragged me along behind him, following the others out the door, his hold tight enough to pull my entire length against him. He was such a perv.

“Sorry,” I said as I tripped on the guy’s arm again. He glared up at me, but really, he saw us coming. He should have moved his freaking arm. It was hard being half-dragged backwards across a floor of bank patrons. And I’d never been accused of being sure-footed. He had to know that after our first encounter.

I clutched at Donovan’s arm and said, “This is not winning you any brownie points, mister.”

When we got to the door, Donovan whispered into my ear, “Nice to see you, too, beautiful.”

I started to respond, but he jerked me out the door and shoved me into the van. I landed in a heap among boots and bags of money. And I was broke. I blinked and looked at them longingly for exactly two-point-seven seconds before reality struck. I couldn’t take stolen money. Not even if I lived to see another sunrise, which wasn’t super-likely if all the white faces staring down at me were any indication.

The van peeled out and took a sharp curve, sending me crashing between a pair of legs. I fought for balance and pretended the moment wasn’t awkward in the least as I turned back to Donovan. He was on his knees, keeping perfect equilibrium as he ripped off the mask and stuffed it into a bag. The others did the same. Eric’s demasking revealed an evil smirk, as it was his legs I’d crashed into, his charming grin accompanied by dark, sparkling eyes.

When Michael took off his mask, his grin was filled with both humor and curiosity. But I was more concerned with the fact that everyone had started disrobing. They peeled off the black shirts to reveal a varying array of T-shirts. Then off came the pants. Donovan wore jeans underneath, but Eric and Michael both wore leather.

The driver also peeled off his mask—or, well, her mask—and tossed it back, and I recognized her from when I was at the house a couple months ago. Curvaceous with long hair the color of midnight and striking hazel green eyes, she seemed to be the only woman within the inner circle of higher-ups of Donovan’s gang. And she could drive like nobody’s business. I saw why Donovan chose her, as she took just enough risky chances to make lights and hurry through turns without drawing too much unwanted attention.

She looked at me in the rearview mirror and winked humorously. At least they enjoyed what they did for a living. Something to be said about that.

“Strip,” Donovan ordered, and I realized he was talking to the last guy. He sat by the back door and had yet to take off his mask.

“Are you for real?” he asked. “She knows who we are.”

“She knew who we were before she ever stepped into the bank,” Eric said, becoming defensive instantly. “Get your shit together.”

“Fuck you,” the guy said. “I ain’t going to prison for that skank.”

Skank?

“Get your mask off,” Donovan said, his tone sharper than I’d ever heard it. “We’re almost at the drop point.”

Did he call me a skank?

“And f**k you, too,” he said to Donovan. “She sees my face, she can testify in court.”

Before anyone could respond, Michael was on the guy. He charged forward, took him by the collar, and jerked his mask off. “She can testify anyway, dipshit.” He threw the mask to Eric, who stuffed it into the same bag with the others.

The guy nodded in astonishment. He had blond hair cut so short, he looked almost bald. His skin was leathery from too much New Mexico sun, but his cheeks had a ruddy complexion. I didn’t remember seeing him, but I’d been to their house only once, and it had been a very tense situation. “Great,” he said, his anger hitting me like a wall of heat. “Now we’re all going to prison.”

“We’re going anyway if this doesn’t work,” Donovan said. “Quit your whining or get out at the next stop.”

The guy worked his jaw as he peeled off his outer shirt as well, but he kept the black military pants on.

“How we doing, darlin’?”

“Ten seconds,” the driver said.

Eric zipped the bag just as she took another sharp turn, this time down an alley and into a parking garage. She skidded to a stop, sending me flying forward. And yet I was the only one. I had serious gravitational issues.

The driver grinned down at me.

“Hi, I’m Charley,” I said as Eric opened the door and jumped out the second the van stopped.

“I know,” she said with a soft laugh. “I’m Sabrina, but I’d appreciate it if you didn’t repeat that in court.”