Bandit Bound: A Bad Boy Romance Novel (8 page)

"So, where are we?" she asked.

"Disneyland," Vincent answered. Savannah laughed at the joke but quickly stopped herself from showing any further emotion, not wanting Vincent to have any sort of leverage over her. "Come on," he added.

Savannah got up and walked out of the van behind Vincent.

She squinted and made a makeshift visor with her hand as the sun blasted her retinas, her body slowly adapting to the new lighting. After a few moments, her vision returned to her.

She stood in a large clearing, mostly dirt and gravel. A decently sized cabin sat in the middle of the clearing, attached to a generator. Two other cars were parked there, but one of them, a green sedan, was totaled and looked unused for decades. Savannah made sure to remember the other car, a white jeep.
Details like this will be important for when I talk to the police,
she thought.

"Okay, take her in, I'll be back in a little bit," Vincent said to the driver.

I'm going to have to be alone with this guy?
Savannah thought. The idea scared her. For some reason, she felt totally safe with Vincent but not so much with the driver.

"Right, right, right," the driver said in a chipper tone. "Alright little lady, let's go."

Savannah followed the driver into the cabin, taking in the orange sunset sky that surrounded her. A large flock of birds was traveling in the distance, crossing the gold and red silhouette of the sun. Savannah looked at the flock longingly, wishing she could fly away from here, as well. He opened the front door and they both walked in.

"Wow," Savannah said out loud. The interior of the cabin betrayed its rather rustic exterior. It looked like a modern apartment on the inside
. Dishwasher, laundry machines, a computer,
Savannah thought to herself, ticking off an imaginary checklist in her head for what an apartment would need.

"Yeah, forty-six is pretty nice. Only takes the ones he likes up here," the driver said with a big smile on his face. He was an older man, maybe in his fifties or sixties. He was large and imposing though and looked like he could break a man in half if he wanted to.

"Well, I'm flattered, I guess," Savannah said half-heartedly.
The ones he likes? How many girls does he kidnap and take up here?
She thought.

"Have a seat over there," the driver said, gesturing to a couch by a fireplace.

Savannah obliged.

"Listen, I understand yer situation," he added. "Nobody wants to be kidnapped while they're at work, taken hostage, blindfolded, handcuffed, and then driven to a strange place by dangerous robbers, especially on the weekend," he said. "I understand."

Savannah looked at him with raised eyebrows. "Okay," she said, unsure of his point.

"I'm just saying, you're gonna be fine, this is standard stuff. At least for us."

"I wasn't even supposed to go to work today, I got called in last minute," Savannah said.

"Man, that sucks," the driver said empathetically. "Should be over in a few days, though."

"A few days?!"

"Yeah, don't worry about it. It's a nice place. We'll keep you well-fed. No gym or spa, though."

Savannah sighed loudly, wanted to pout or have a tantrum, or just a general freak-out.
No point in doing that
, she thought. Then a terrifying thought hit her.

"Hey," she said, her voice trembling.

"Yeah?" the driver answered.

"You're going to kill me, aren't you?" Savannah was now on the verge of tears.

"What? No." The driver sounded annoyed.

"I've seen your face. I know Vincent Starlingveil, I know his name, I saw his face. You're going to kill me, aren't you?" she asked again, now sobbing lightly.

"Nah, lots of people have seen Vance, he's like fifty different dudes. All over the place. You really think that's his real name?" The driver said, trying to calm her down. It wasn't working.

"No," Savannah choked out in between tears.

"Listen, I'll tell you something I really shouldn't since I hate it when girls cry," the driver said.

"What's that?" Savannah asked.

"We were in France pulling a heist a month ago. Before that, we were in Russia. Vladimir Stoyanovich, Pierre Lapierre, man I can't even remember them anymore," the driver said with a little chuckle.

"I just don't want to die, okay? I won't tell anybody, I don't even care, I just want to go home," she answered.

"You'll go home just fine, quit complaining, we're the nicest damn robbers and kidnappers you'll ever meet, God forbid you ever meet any other ones," the driver said.

Savannah stopped responding and eventually regained her composure.

"If you don't mind me asking," Savannah started.

"I do mind, but I think you're going to ask me anyways," the driver interrupted.

"What makes you guys so different?"

"I'm not at liberty to tell you, miss, but I'll tell you I've got a clean conscience. Can you say the same for yourself?"

Savannah was taken aback at the question.

"I think so," she answered.

"Well, I hope you figure it out for sure before the reaper comes," he replied.

"Yeah, me too, I guess."

"Listen, lady, I'm going to take care of a few things around here to make sure you have a great stay at Hotel Forty-Six. Alright?"

"Alright."

The air was cool and crisp as Savannah noticed the air conditioner placed in the window. The openness of the cabin was confusing to her.
This seems way too easy to escape from,
she thought.

"So, don't leave this room, and don't dick around with any of the shit in here, and just sit there, and I'm a real nice guy, and don't do nothing, and you've got real nice hair," the driver said.

"Uh, okay, and thanks," Savannah said with shifting eyes.
What the hell is up with this guy?
she thought.

"Seriously. Don't make me have to tie you up and have you laying there on the couch, because I will do it if I have to. Be good," he said firmly and walked out the front door, closing it loudly behind him.

The next hour or so was spent in a mixture of fear, boredom and, strangest of all, excited anticipation.

Anticipation for Vincent to come back.

Savannah smiled.

8

It was just about dark out when Savannah heard a car pull up to the cabin. She ran over across the living room and peeked out the window. It was a regular black sedan. It looked cheap, even.
Is that Vincent?
Savannah thought.
I figured he'd be in something flashier. Well, maybe that would be a little too inconspicuous.

The car door opened and Vincent exited the vehicle. His hair was a different color now: a light shade of brown, almost like milk chocolate. It was styled differently, as well. On top of that, he was wearing a rather silly-looking fake mustache. His suit had been exchanged for a polo shirt and some slacks.

She could make out his tattoos now and committed them to memory.
I have to try to remember every little detail,
she thought.
God, he looks good
, another little voice in her head added.
Shut up,
she thought, scolding herself for letting thoughts like that enter her head.

A shadow cast over him as a cloud passed over the light-giving moon in the sky. He walked with a confident stride towards the cabin.
How could he be so relaxed?
Savannah wondered.

He saw her peeking through the window and wagged his finger at her in a mock-scolding manner. Savannah shut the curtains and ran back to the couch and sat on it, acting as if she hadn't moved an inch.

The door handle jiggled and then the door popped open and Vincent walked in. Crickets could be heard in the distance and a frog ribbited.

"Honey, I'm home," he said, followed by his laugh. He immediately took off his fake mustache.

"Very funny. And nice mustache," Savannah remarked.

"I know, I am just too much," he said. He appeared to be in a particularly jolly mood.

"You're chipper," Savannah said. "Rob another bank while I was gone?"

"I wish!" he said. He walked over to a cushioned recliner that was adjacent to Savannah's couch and fell backward onto it, kicking his legs in the air and putting his hands behind his head.

"So, you enjoying the place?" he asked.

"Well, your friend, or acquaintance, or whatever, told me to sit here and stay still until he came back and he never did, so no, not enjoying it that much," Savannah said.

Vincent laughed.

"That's pretty good," he said. "Well, feel free to check it out now."

"Thanks," Savannah said sarcastically and proceeded to stay seated and completely still. She could tell that he was staring at her but refused to return any eye contact. Partially out of rebellion, and partially because she was afraid of what would happen if he got under her skin with the two of them alone together.

"Well, maybe some music will lighten the mood," Vincent said and stood up off of the recliner. He did a long and exaggerated stretch, making little grunts and noises of man-relaxation as he did so. His shirt pulled above his waist while he did so, and Savannah quickly took a peek. A muscular "V" was carved around his crotch, and she saw the bottom two muscles of his six-pack.

Shit,
Savannah thought.
Look away. Stay strong.

Vincent walked over to a stereo system that had a big stack of CDs on top of it. "Man, remember CDs?" he asked.

"Yes," Savannah said and bit her lip, her mind now overwhelmed with images of Vincent's ripped body.

"Any requests?" Vincent asked.

"No, thank you, but thank you," Savannah said nervously. She continued to avert her eyes from him.

"Alright, looks like my pick then," he answered and sifted through some of the CDs. He let out a satisfied grunt and put one of the CDs into the sound system.

"Good summer music," he noted quietly.

Savannah couldn't believe her ears.
Who is this guy?
She thought.

"So, how long have you been stalking me?" she asked.

Vincent looked at her and gave her a confused smile.

"Sorry?" he asked.

"How long have you been stalking me for? A year? Two?"

"Only about three days, since I saw you in the bank, to be totally honest," he said.

"Breaking into my house? Going through all of my stuff?"

Cheerful music played in the background. It was Machaka Unchained, a Hawaiian-Rock band.

Vincent laughed. "No, nothing like that. Just got your address from your boss and sent you some flowers," he said.

It was him!
She thought to herself.
He really did send them!
She smiled at the confession and quickly tried to wipe it off of her face.

"Nobody listens to this but me," she said.

"Well, I think you're wrong because I'm listening to this right now. It's my CD, after all," Vincent answered, extremely amused at the situation. "You know about Machaka Unchained?"

Savannah laughed and rolled her eyes at the insanity of it all. "It's one of my favorite bands," she confessed. There was a moment of silent tension and then Savannah looked up at Vincent. There was an instant spark between the two of them.

"Interesting," he said. He looked caught off guard.

"You're not messing with me, right? You didn't go through my stuff after breaking into my house?" Savannah asked.
I still can't believe it,
she thought.
What are the odds?

"I don't break into houses and sift through CDs. I'm not your regular guy. but I'm not weird in that way," he said while laughing.