Robbed of Love

PROLOGUE

"He said, baby are you ready? Don't be scared think deadly. Move fast like a jet-ski. When we rollin' in the paper I swear that we gettin' married."

- Kehlani & Klyde by Kehlani

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"You ready?" he asked when he turned to face her.

She quickly nodded. "I was born ready. You already know I got yo' back, baby," came her reply. He smiled in approval before leaning over to kiss her.

They gave each other one last smile before pulling their black ski-masks down simultaneously. With one more glance and a head nod they burst through the doors with guns drawn.

"Everybody to the ground now and no one will get hurt!" he boomed instantly.

Everyone hit the ground as ordered, but the confusion was evident. Men were trying to calm their screaming wives and crying kids. The bankers clearly were trying to hurry and trip the alarm system when they were noticed. Dylan waved both her Colt 45's in the air as if to warn them. Fúck wit' me and watch your brains paint these walls. She pointed on gun at the first banker, and tilted her head to the side without a word. The woman gulped before chastely backing away from her desk. Heat jogged straight to the vault and demanded the guard to open it, pointing his gun at him. Everyone else stayed to the ground as instructed.

"I-I don't know the c-code—" the guard's stutters are cut off by a sudden shot ringing off that nearly misses his forehead. Dylan looked over for a second before turning back to the hostages on the ground.

"Now... Next time I won't miss. Try me," Heat threatens through gritted teeth as he inches closer.

"Alright! Alright! J-Just don't shoot!" the guard throws his hands up in surrender.

Dylan smirked at the guard's squeaky tone. She had known Heat since elementary school, but they've been dating since she was 13 and he was 17. Now, she was 16 and he was 20. She just knew some things'll never change. For example... his incredulously short temper.

"Well, then hop to it!" he yelled and even Dylan flinched at his tone.

The guard scurries off to the right side of the vault and punches in a code. Heat smiles triumphantly when the heavy metal door swings open. He slowly walks inside and starts stuffing his blue Nike duffel bag with stacks money. Dylan back pedals towards the vault as she still totes the guns in the hostages' direction.

She turns her head around and catches him smiling at her butt. "Heat... turn around..." she whispered teasingly. He chuckles, but does as he's told. Dylan smirks knowingly.

Five minutes pass and Dylan looks down at her watch nervously. The hostages were still on the ground, but she knew eventually someone would try to play hero. "I hear sirens!" she yells frantically. Heat ignores her so she runs over to him and grips his arm. "Just leave it! We have enou—" her hollering was cut off by him jerking his arm away from her. He then turns and shoves her... hard. She loses her footing and falls. Both her guns skidded across the floor.

"Shut up, dámmit. I know what I am doi—" Heat's greedy rambling is cut off because Dylan hearing starts to go in and out. She realizes she had hit her head because when she got up to her feet everything was spinning and her head hurt. She looked at where her head hit the metal wall and noticed a small amount of blood. She touched the back of her head on instinct.

"Heat?" Dylan cries weakly and looks at her hand. There was blood on her fingers. She then uses her other hand to lean against the wall so she could try to leave the vault. Everything was still blurry so she knew she wasn't moving as fast as she wanted. Before she could make it to the doorway of the vault her body is pulled backwards and she felt a forearm go across her neck. Naturally her hands went up to try to pry the forearm away from her airway.

"Shh..." Heat whispers almost soothingly.

"What... Are... You... Doing?" Dylan struggles as he urges her body towards the lobby. He held one of her guns against the small of her back.

"Take one more step and I'll blow her fúcking head clean off!" Heat yells over her shoulder.

Dylan's eyes nearly popped out of their sockets when three police officers came into view. She looked around to realize all of the hostages were gone and she looked out the window to see that the rest of the LAPD was outside of the bank.

Shít! What is he doing?

"Let her go," one of the officer's spoke calmly. He was an older, medium built African American man. When Aubrey took a better look outside she noticed how many officers there actually were. Too many coo cars to count and every last officer had their gun drawn.

Heat shook his head side to side frantically and began to shudder. Dylan immediately knew he was nervous. Hell, and so was she. They have been robbing small banks, houses, and other stores for a little over a year and they've never even been close to being caught.

Ever.

"Dylan. Baby. I love you, but... I-I'm sorry..." were Heat's last words before he kissed the back of Dylan's head and pushed her forward to the ground. She barely had time to brace herself for the fall so she fell awkwardly on her hands and rolled over in pain. When she opened her eyes Heat had his gun pointed at her. Before she could react he squeezed the trigger with no hesitation.

One shot to the chest.

"No," she coughed. Everything burned. Shear surged through her chest as she watched him shoot at the officers, grab the duffel bag of money, and slip out the vault and the back door. Just leaving her there bleeding out.

And then...

Everything went black...

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