Can You Kill Me Now?

Chapter Four: The Finer Details

As we walk towards the main road, Junior removes his hat and fixes his hair. His hair is jet black and straight, and it isn't as long as I initially thought. He mostly keeps his bangs long, probably to hide his eyes. I wonder if he is insecure about something or prefers this look. Now that I can see him better, I take time to really study him as we walk quietly towards the main road. Unsurprisingly, he did not park along the main road but in a different alley with dim lighting and minimal chance of security cameras.

It's unusual for me to feel a sense of curiosity, but I guess it has been a while since I met a new person, let alone one who tried to shake me down for cash despite having an apparent moral compass. "So, how old are you?" I ask, mainly because he kept calling me kid.

He looks at me momentarily before telling me, "I just turned twenty."

I make a face, "You are two years older than me; why do you keep referring to me as a kid?"

He laughs, and I notice that he has sharp canines, giving him that almost punk rock vibe everyone was obsessed with in the mid-2000s. "That's because you're a shrimp! Seriously, I couldn't believe you lived alone."

I glare at him, and he puts his hands up in mock surrender. We reach his car, which I assume is his car and not a stolen getaway, and he opens the passenger door. "They don't depict criminals on TV as having manners."

"Sure they do," He says, leaning on the door as I settle in, "A lot of killers sweet-talked their way into the lives of their victims. The more charming you are, the easier it is to sway people into trusting you".

My eyes must light up at this revelation like my soul is because he instantly switches from playful to glaring. "I forgot who I was talking to; consider that a momentary lapse in judgment and wipe that look off your face." He says, closing the door and going to the driver's side after stopping to put his backpack away.

Sigh. Why did I have to get the criminal with morals?

He settles into the driver's seat but doesn't immediately start the car, "Okay, so you said to take you to a bank, right? Aren't they all closed?"

"Yes, but they have ATMs I can pull money from," I explain.

He sighs lightly, "The problem is you can only pull a certain amount out at a time. Most banks won't let you pull higher than seven hundred and fifty."

I take this in and try to think of a solution, "First, how much do you actually need?"

I can see him stiffen before looking down at his knees, "Roughly twenty-three thousand," He mumbles.

His shame is evident, so I try to keep any reactions internal. That isn't a small sum at all. He was likely planning to take a good amount from the dealership if he could and then try robbing people for the rest. Or maybe he had a backup business he would attempt to hit. Either way, getting that kind of cash without raising suspicion will not be a simple task. Even if I want to pull a large sum, the bank will likely limit the amount of money I can pull out in cash since twenty grand would be a lot of paper bills to worry about. So how much can we realistically pull from the ATM and the Bank in just one go? Ugh, this level of thinking is why I couldn't be a criminal.

"Every way I look at it, there isn't a way for us to do this in one sitting. If we are going to pull this off without raising suspicion, then we have to be strategic," I explain, finally breaking the silence.

His bewildered whiplash of a head turn almost makes me laugh, "What?"

"If we are going to acquire that much cash, we won't be able to do it in just one night or one day," I reiterate.