Divide & Conquer (Cut & Run #4)(50)
Author: Abigail Roux

Hannah looked down, frowning faintly as she poked at one of the bank bags in front of her. “They raised over a million dollars to build that new gym,” Pierce said, sounding far too pleased with himself. Graham didnt know why. The Y was a charity, wasnt it? It wasnt like blowing up some milliondollar store. Didn’t the other bombs do enough damage?

“Why do we need a better bomb?” Graham couldnt help but ask. “The others didnt do enough damage?”

“No, they didnt,” Pierce said flatly.

“A bomb is a bomb, isnt it?” Hannah asked tentatively. “Its just supposed to keep them away from the banks.”

Pierce smacked his hand on the tabletop, and Hannah cringed. “It needs to be a better bomb because I said so.” Grahams stomach began to roil. He hoped that Mr. Garrett had found that note by now. It was okay, robbing banks. It was kind of cool, kind of badass, and f**k the banks anyway. Its not like they ever did anything good for anyone. He had heard his dad grumbling about all the money theyd lost when… well, Graham didnt really understand that part, and half of it had to do with politics anyway and who cared about that, but it had been fun, going after something everyone seemed to think was so big and powerful. Plus, if they got enough money Graham could quit his crappy restaurant job his father had made him get to teach him “fiscal responsibility.”

But Pierce was getting scary. It wasnt about the money to him anymore, and Graham didnt know when—or if—hed stop. Theyd been lucky more people hadnt been hurt at the mall.

“Pierce, were really hurting people—”

“Just the f**king cops!” Pierce yelled.

“So which one are we hitting next?” Ross asked, looking so eager that the acid started inching up through Grahams gullet. “„We arent,” Pierce said with a smug smile. “Hannah is.” Hannah went totally white. “What? Me?”

“Its about time you did something besides making phone calls,” Pierce ordered. “Time to earn your part of the take. Youre going to rob the bank this time.”

“B-b-but I dont know how!” Hannah wailed, wringing her hands. “Suck it up, Hannah,” Pierce said harshly. “You want your money so you can get away from Stepmommy Dearest, youll do what I tell you. You hear me?”

“Yes,” Hannah mewled, slumping in on herself.

“So what are we doing while Hannahs hitting the bank?” Ross asked. “Grahams going to have the car nearby to get Hannah when she comes out. You and I are going to take care of those two piece of shit pigs who called us out on TV,” Pierce said with such relish that Graham had to swallow hard on his gorge.

“Do you know who they are yet?”

“The loudmouths name is Grady. I cant find his address, but Im going to follow him home from the FBI one day.”

“Why didnt you just take care of him when you had him in the car that time?” Ross asked. Pierces face reddened. Hed talked a lot of talk, but Graham had seen the size of the FBI agent. He knew exactly why Pierce hadnt “taken care” of him. Agent Grady would tear Pierces arms off like a pit bull playing with a kitten.

“I want to make him suffer first!” Pierce shouted.

Ross raised his hands in a placating gesture, and suddenly Pierce was fine again. “So Graham, you have to find a getaway car.”

“We can use that kickass truck,” Ross suggested.

“That Fed wont be needing it,” Pierce said smugly, pulling out a ring of keys and twirling it on his finger.

“Im not driving a truck you stole from a Fed!” Graham said, feeling his stomach flip unpleasantly. “Then you better come up with something of your own,” Pierce snapped. “You dont like the truck, then Ill drive it. Ive already replaced the plate.”

Graham slumped down into his chair under the sense of impending doom that hung in the air. Pierce stood up and leaned over, planting his hands on top of the mess of schematics and maps. “We keep going. No ones getting hurt who doesnt deserve it.” He reached out to the middle of the kitchen table and plucked up the pink ceramic piggy bank hed set there the day he first laid out his plans. “Were gonna split this city wide open,” he said, smirking before deliberately dropping the pig to the table and watching it crack right through the middle.

“T Y, YOUneed a break,” Zane said as he walked slowly into the living room. He was almost certain Ty was in the kitchen on the other side of the bar. Hed heard glass bottles clanking in the refrigerator.

It wasnt even the weekend yet, and Zane knew the babysitter role had to be chafing. While Ty had been good as gold in the two days since moving Zane to his row house, it couldnt last much longer. Zane didnt want it to last; it was starting to freak him out. He almost wanted to pick a fight just to hear Ty rant so it would vault him back out of The Twilight Zone.

“What?” Ty asked in a muffled voice, as if he was kneeling below the level of the kitchen counter. Zane frowned as he reached out in front of him, certain the bar should be there. “I said you need a break. What are you doing? You sound like youre in a hole.”

He felt more than heard Ty stand quickly, right in front of him. “Nothing.” Zane tipped his head to the side, trying to remember what Ty kept in the cabinets under the bar. He didnt believe Ty for an instant, but since he couldnt hear anything ticking, he let it go. “Nothing,” he stated. “Yeah, thats the problem. You need a break,” he stated for the third time.

“I wasnt doing anything,” Ty insisted in his most innocent voice. It turned more suspicious as he kept talking. “A break from what?” Now Zane was sure he didnt want to know what Ty had been doing. “A break from your babysitting duties.”

“Oh,” Ty said with a huff. “Why do you say that? I havent set fire to anything lately.” Normally, Zane would just give Ty a look, deeming the justspoken words bullshit. But since he couldnt see Ty to focus on him, that wasnt going to work. “But you have the matches in hand,” Zane said knowingly.

Ty cleared his throat. “What would you suggest, then, since you cant be left to your own incompetent devices?” “I think I can manage for a while,” Zane said seriously. “Go out. Do something. Youve been fluttering like your mom. Not that I dont enjoy it, but I can hear you twitching.”

“Fluttering like my mom?” Ty repeated with special emphasis on the words that insulted him, meaning all of them. Zane heard him throw something that flopped like heavy paper onto the counter. “You are an ungrateful jackass,” Ty said slowly.