07. TARGET: GUSTAVIO LACHOWSKI — INCOMPLETE

COVINA, WASHINGTON

0800 HOURS; 08 MINUTES

CALIFORNIA STATE BANK

➳

"We're never going to make it in time." I gasped out, feeling a burning sensation in both my heart and my legs as the strain of exerting more speed washed down on me. Ronan, on the other hand, looked just about the opposite as I did — whereas I was a literal hot mess with sweat pouring down the sides of my face and breathing raggedly through my dry mouth, he breathed heavily through his nostrils, his speed and energy never once faltering. Who the hell was this guy?

Ronan didn't reply to my breathless remark, merely glancing at a wall clock as we passed: seven minutes to spare. I wasn't even confident enough to believe that the bomb had been planted in the very place we started in, but a hunch was a hunch, and there was no other option than to go with our guts at this point.

We were only about halfway to the vault; I grimaced when I realized we would have to run down the horrid flights of stairs once again. If we ever got there.

The bank was huge, a few stories high and large in size —spanning several wings from opposite end of the building to the other. Ronan burst through a door at the end of the hallway, the slam resonating through the building. Police sirens sounded in the distance, muted only by the barriers of the sturdy walls of the bank. The police forces were unable to penetrate the massive swarm of the evacuating crowd, screaming and crying from the stressful situation. I could have been like them, unable to cope with the pressure and just breaking down, but I was overshadowed by a sense of numbness. I couldn't feel any emotion other than determination.

It definitely came in handy at the moment.

We ducked our heads low to keep from being spotted, making it across undetected. Ronan rapidly looked around in a flurry, his eyes scanning every sign, every crevice of the bank. Eventually, we found ourselves running into the entry of the third floor boiler room, remembering how the basement not only held the vault area but the electric and gas tanks needed to operate the building.

The stairs were creaking, made of metal chain links woven into one another. My small feet skidded across uneasily, tripping as they got caught in the small holes on the floor. Making our way onto the platform, we were greeted with a swarm of heat from the equipment, making me sweat even more and wish for a nice, cold shower after this whole saving the lives of people ordeal was over. The heat wasn't the only thing that welcomed us.

Looking over the railings, Ronan cursed through gritted teeth as some of Lachowski's henchmen stood guard at the exit of the boiler room below us. The exit leading into the vaults.

"How much time?" he snapped at me. I swallowed a dry lump and looked around for a clock, paling when I caught sight of the minute hand.

"Five minutes."

"Shit," Ronan swore. The two guards from below let out a shout when they caught sight of our heads above them, and they immediately scampered to the ladders directly below us. They started climbing and Ronan muttered, "shit," once again. He looked around for a weapon, grimacing when he came up empty.

"Your gun?" I squeaked out, clearly visualizing the weapon he had threatened me with beforehand.

"Left it in the car." he sighed out, running a hand through his messy locks. "You can't just take a gun into a bank, shithead."

"I'm only trying to think of ideas!" I yelled at him, the numbness beginning to wear off as the stress took over. My eyes caught the clock again. Four minutes left to go.

Before Ronan could make a retort, something grabbed his ankle and dragged him to the ground, making his head hit against the metal platform with a sickening thud. I screamed as the other goon headed for my direction, ducking as he swung out his arms to grab me. Just when I assumed I was safe as I ran to Ronan, I was grabbed from behind, hands enclosing around my mouth and arms. I squirmed helplessly, watching Ronan a few yards away, getting kicked in the gut by the other henchman as blood trickled down his mouth.

And then the strangest thing happened.

➳

"Okay, let's practice those moves one more time, sweetie."

"Okay." I agreed, wiping a drop of sweat from my brow. Instead of being tired from the two hour self-defense lesson of the day, I was energetic, practically bouncing on the balls of my heels.

The man in front of me laughed jovially and made his way to my backside, grabbing me in a hold, though not too tightly. A grin fixed its way onto my lips underneath his palm, as the moves he spent the past hours teaching me ran through my mind.

"Come on, Gwen. You know what to do."

➳

You know what to do.

Without thinking, I quickly slammed my head behind me, hearing the sickening crunch as my skull collided with bone. I used the heel of my converse to dive into my attacker's foot, and was relieved when his hold on me slackened just slightly.

It was enough.

I used my elbow and jerked it behind me with such force that the man doubled back, and I was free. Spinning around, I aimed a high kick at the goon's head, watching the impact make his eyes roll to the back of his head as he fell to the ground, unconscious.

Panting, I stared at him for a few seconds in shock and horror. Raising my hands, I watched them shake, bewildered by what I had just done. How did I do that?

Before I could revel in the fact that 'holy shit I'm a badass,' another pair of arms wrapped around my body, squeezing tightly so that I couldn't retaliate. The air was being choked out of me and soon I began to sputter, all sense of victory leaving my body. But before I could pass out from oxygen deprivation, the goon was pulled off of me and I gasped for air.

Ronan had the guy by the lapels of his suit, spitting blood into the guy's face. The henchman wrestled his way out of Ronan's iron grip, stepping back as he found himself trapped in the middle of Ronan and I. Ronan shot me a quick glance as I returned it with a wide-eyed one, still stunned by my earlier actions. Again I caught the glimpse of uncertainty in the depths of his obsidian eyes, before he turned around and I lost him.

My sharp-toothed ally struck first, making the chain on my arm rustle with the sudden movement. He swung a punch, hitting the man right in the stomach. Before Ronan could aim another strike, the man —pale, but heavy and large and size— grabbed him roughly and shoved him past the railing. Ronan teetered nerve rackingly before losing his balance and toppling over.

Luckily for him, we were still cuffed together, and as he fell, my feet skidded against the ground as I tried to stop his fall, until my stomach hit the railing. Letting out a pained grunt, my arm was being dragged as Ronan hung from the chain connecting us, his legs dangling over air.

Meanwhile, the goon had stumbled back from the feat, a little dazed. When his gaze locked on my own frenzied one —I was trying to drag Ronan back up on the baluster— I gulped as he smirked threateningly.

"Gwen!" Ronan called from below.

"Yeah?" I squeaked out, my voice cracking.

"Do you trust me?"

"Not really-"

"Jump!"

"What?"

My arm was in in so much pain as I hung over the railing, Ronan letting himself go limp and drag me down further. Lachowski's henchman was taking steps towards my direction as the clock on the wall showed that only two more minutes were left before the bomb exploded and killed us all.

"Gwen!" Squeezing my eyes shut, I stopped fighting and let Ronan's weight drag me down. I collided with his body halfway down and he held me in a protective cage with his arms, my ears hearing only the erratic beating of his heart. The fall lasted only a few seconds but it felt like an eternity.

Ronan twisted us around in the air, so that our feet would land first. He held me tighter as I kept my eyes shut in fear, feeling the presence of the ground growing closer. Soon, we hit the basement floor with a loud thump, Ronan rolling upon impact as he took most of the impact. The way he landed made the impact less forceful, but he still let out a pained groan when we hit the ground. I felt nothing but a small sting on my temple.

We rolled around on the floor until we came to a standstill, my body on top of his as he kept his arms around me. I didn't realize I was crying until I felt his hand brush against my cheeks and I opened my eyes, only to find his finger stained with tears.

"You're alive, don't worry." he reassured, sounding pained. I could only nod, blushing when I realized the position we were in. Of course, the blush had to come a moment like this, but it was completely unavoidable: I was a tomato.

His was face was so close, I could see the amber specks in his obsidian eyes, the cuts scraping along his jawline, and the mess of his hair falling into his forehead. I quickly scrambled off him, helping him to his feet. Ronan hissed through gritted teeth as he rubbed his arm in pain. "It's dislocated," he grumbled, half to himself. He flexed his arm to test the damage, wincing, "but not broken. How much time is left?"

I glanced at the clock and my blood ran cold. "A minute." Glancing up at the platform from where we fell, I saw the goon smirk in victory before shaking his head and disappearing through the door instead of pursuing us. That wasn't a good sign.

"Quick, let's go." Ronan said urgently, kicking the door open and running down the corridor, myself hot on his heels. We turned a corner and spotted my vault, our very starting point, still open from when we were in there. I breathed out a sigh of relief. We entered in a flurry of motion, looking around for any source of a bomb. Unknowing of its size or shape, of its color or model.

"There's nothing." I wheezed out, looking through all the drawers of my father's junk drawer for the fifth time.

"There has to be something." Ronan growled from my side, looking at the floor corners and dusting off the ground for any evidence.

"Well, at least there aren't any of Lachowski's men here, right?" I tried to lighten the situation, knowing it was futile. We were going to die. It was imminent.

Ronan froze, his eyes darting to the open vault door. "Gwen," he said slowly. "Say that again."

"Uhm. There aren't any of Lachowski's men here?"

"Yes." Ronan nodded, pulling on our handcuffs and dragging me to the door. "Yes, yes, yes."

"Care to elaborate?"

"There aren't any men here," Ronan explained in a rushed tone. "Help me with the door— but Gwen, there were men in the boiler room. They wouldn't be there unless they were guarding something."

"The bomb." I whispered, the pieces clicking in my mind. We were down to seconds, damn it. There was no time to escape. That had been Lachowski's plan all along.

That bastard.

There was silence as it all dawned on me and Ronan, the only noise was the faint ticking coming from the boiler room, which only came clearer in the silence of the building. Stepping back, the only thing keeping us from the hallway and the bomb was this vault door —steel and stainless, strong and impenetrable. I could feel the identical thought running through both of our minds: Is it enough?

Then, finally, there was the sound of an actual explosion.

It was deafening, shattering my ear drums and making me go temporarily deaf. I screamed a bloodcurdling cry that I couldn't even hear, pressing the palms of my hands to my ears and falling into a fetal position on the floor. The floor quaked underneath our feet; I saw orange and red outside the vault's miniscule cracks, the vault door looking as if it were melting.

"Oh, God." I kept repeating to myself. Ronan was sitting by my side, back against the wall with his eyes closed. I rocked back and forth, waiting for the door to burst open, letting the flames and gas in and burning my body to smithereens.

It never came.

The floor continued rumbling underneath our feet, making it hard to stay upright. My hearing slowly returned, albeit it was very static-filled but I could hear the sounds of debris and ceilings collapsing from behind the door. It took an eternity for all the noise to stop, and when it did we were left with the deafening volumes that silence spoke.

I could've heard a pin drop.

I also would have been very content with just lying there in shock and fear if it weren't for Ronan rising to his feet, the handcuffs dragging me up with him. "Come on, we have to get going."

"Why?" I complained. All of my energy had been drained along with the explosion. I was left only with the feeling of extreme exhaustion and denial. He pulled me again, impatient.

"Before the cops come and discover us here. The bomb was perfect. They'll think we're dead and we can lead them off our trails. Both the police and Lachowski."

I gawked at him. "How did you know the police were looking for me too?"

"By the way you first acted when I met you," Ronan explained, not meeting my gaze as he analyzed the steel door, now slightly charred and decaying. "You were jittery, as if everything you did would have a consequence. You also kept looking at the rear view mirror. I figured you were on the run too."

Unable to form a coherent sentence from his correct hypothesis, Ronan just tugged on the handcuffs again. "Come on, before they start searching the rubble."

Nodding my head slowly, I walked ahead, reaching out to push the door open when Ronan yelled at me fiercely to stop. However, I heard his warning a bit too late. My hand rested momentarily on the steel door —still a little orange from the heat— and heard a sizzle before the smell of burning flesh hit my nostrils.

I let out a strangled scream, pulling my burned hand back in pain, tears welling in my eyes. My hand was a dangerous shade of red, flesh burned from the heat of the door, beginning to bleed from the open wound.

"You idiot," Ronan chided softly, taking my hand in his. I winced and dragged it back, glaring daggers at him.

"You've could warned me!"

"I tried. You didn't listen."

I didn't want to admit he was right, merely turning away and following as he walked to the junk drawer and began pushing. "What are you doing now?" I asked in exasperation.

"Just help." he said instead. Sighing heavily, I began pushing the desk towards the door, realizing what he was attempting to do. The desk was a battering ram.

We continuously shoved it against the door, which gave away much more easily than I thought. Eventually the vault door caved away, the smell acrid in my nose. Ronan dusted off his hands on his pants, rubbing some dust and blood off his face. I did the same, glancing at the exit only to find my breath catching in my throat.

Everything was destroyed.

There was charred rubble, ceiling bits cascading in heaps on the ground, still sizzling from the flames caused by the explosion. Walls were caved in and smashed, and some vaults weren't as lucky as ours had been, caving in as both the door and content inside were annihilated. Some vaults remained standing in their stoic glory, a bit damaged but the foundation still stood.

I hoped to God everyone made it out alive.

A tug on my wrist pulled me out of my stupor; Ronan was already stepping over the debris and heading for the stairwell. I followed numbly, letting him drag me behind as I kept surveying the damage. It was a miracle we had survived.

The door to the stairwell was already burned to a crisp, sitting in ruins a few feet away from its hinges. Ronan stepped over the threshold, past the stairs to where the emergency exit sign dangling limply above the door leading outside. Pushing the door open gently —it fell to the ground upon his touch— Ronan and I stepped out, breathing in fresh air rather than smoke and ash.

It felt so good to be out; I almost dropped to my knees and kissed the earth. I probably would have too if Ronan hadn't started pulling me towards an unharmed car towards the parking lot. I followed silently, holding my injured hand to my chest and forcing back complaints of pain. He looked over his shoulder, making sure we weren't caught and then began hotwiring the car, a sturdy black Chevy, when it sputtered to life.

"Get in." he ordered. I climbed swiftly into the driver's seat, then onto the passenger seat. He jumped in after me, digging around his pockets for something until he found what he was looking for.

A key.

Instinctively, my hand grabbed at my neck, sighing in relief when the skeleton key was still wrapped securely around it. The key in Ronan's hand was smaller anyway, and pure silver. He took my unharmed hand, the hand which the cuff was connected to, and unlocked it.

The chain fell away to the seat, and I clenched my fist, now free. I stared at Ronan in bewilderment. There were scratches and cuts around his face and neck, a dark bruise forming on his jawline, and a bleeding cut above his left eyebrow. There was a nasty cut on his dislocated arm as well, the blood soaking through his black tee. I wondered about my own injuries, besides my hand. "You're letting me free?" I asked skeptically.

"Not too fast, short stuff," he chuckled, smirking. "You're not escaping that easily. We have a lot to talk about."

Narrowing my eyes at him, I thought about his reaction to my father's note, his fighting ability, his analytical approach to everything. "I could say the same about you."

"I promised, didn't I?" he asked rhetorically, pulling the gear shift into reverse and backing the car out of the parking lot. "I'll tell you everything," We were on the road now, Ronan casting one last look at the scene behind us before looking at me with a serious expression. "But only if you do the same."

➳➳➳

Oh, shit. I'm on a writing roll. Look at this, another update of The Junk Drawer? Wow, what have I been on? Anyways, that bank scene literally spanned like two and half chapters. I'm kind of worried that at this rate, the story's going to be hella long, like I don't even know how many chapters. I literally have the outline and plot written down, but not so specifically that I have every chapter written down.

I'm literally just winging it.

So hopefully y'all are into long-ish stories and won't mind. I also hope you're enjoying the story so far? Want to say something? Comment below! (Best comment gets a dedication. ;) ) Want to make fanart? Send me your art through private message? Want to support the story? Vote and promote!

I love you all lots.

Also this chapter is dedicated to Ash because I promised her I would update just for her. xo

The actor on the side plays Gustavio Lachowski. c; And I chose this song especially for this chapter because well... boom. Lol.

-Isa