The Bank Job 04: Final

This is a re-edited version of the original chapter I uploaded. There were some issues with the formatting and in some instances the sentences were a bit garbled and letters were repeated. Sorry about that.

Again with thanks to Misternik and vmc312. These problems weren't anything to do with them; they were entirely my fault!

*****

Three months later

The September afternoon was unseasonably mild and sunny, especially for Scotland. Rebecca's first two weeks of Uni had gone well; she'd managed to find all her classes, waded successfully through the red tape of enrolment, she'd even taken the first steps of a tentative friendship with a few people.

She'd clicked with Carla immediately; they had an easy, comfortable relationship. She already felt like they'd known each other for much longer than a couple of weeks. They were on the way to grab some lunch to eat in the park after a quick stop at the campus bookshop when Simon joined them.

Simon was Carla's childhood friend; they'd been at the same secondary school. He was on an entirely different course so he wasn't in any of the same classes as them, but they were in the same campus. He was tall and a bit of a geek. He looked like he should be carrying a skateboard. But he was cute with a captivating smile and lovely thick curly brown hair that she always had an inexplicable urge to ruffle. She'd only hung out with Simon a few times but his easy-going charm was infectious and she found herself laughing a lot when she was around him. She had a sneaky feeling he might fancy her but she didn't feel ready to get involved with anyone just yet.

They'd all been to the student union bar together on Saturday; Simon was doing an excellent impression of the two drunk Italian guys who had been trying to woo Carla and Rebecca.

Rebecca clutched her sides, she was laughing so much she almost had tears streaming down her face.

She hadn't talked to either of them about the robbery or the subsequent experiences; she wasn't ready to articulate her confused feelings about Jason yet, or the terrifying whirlwind of events that she associated with him.

-

The days following her abduction were intense. She shuddered to think about them. After she'd arrived at her parents' house and let her self in, she'd been confronted with her mum sitting at the table drinking tea with a woman she hadn't seen before.

"Mum."

"Oh my god, Rebecca!" her mum jumped up and almost threw herself at her. "I've been so worried about you."

They were in each other's arms and both crying when her dad appeared at the top of the stairs.

"Rebecca?"

She left the comfort of her mums embrace to be briefly pulled into his less familiar one. She looked up at his face and realised that he was working hard to school his features, keep his emotions in check, she felt a surge of love for her parents and the roles they played in her life, different though they were.

Gently the woman peeled them apart.

"Hello Rebecca, I'm DC Lisa Short., I'm a police officer, and I'm so glad you back safe. We've all been very concerned." She offered Rebecca's mother the box of tissues that usually lived on the kitchen table and she gratefully took one. "I'm very sorry for the intrusion, but I'd like to take your clothes for forensics as soon as possible to help with our investigation."

She looked at the women for the first time, she had been aware that she was there but she hadn't taken any real notice of her. Rebecca was stunned. "Oh, of course. Yes, I'm sorry." She mumbled.

DC Short produced a handful of clear plastic bags, seemingly from nowhere and handed them to Rebecca.

"We'll need you to come down to the station as soon as possible to give a statement but that can wait until tomorrow. For now the main thing is we need to get these clothes into evidence bags, before they get contaminated, and so I can get them to forensics."

She could see her dad getting antsy; clearly DC Short was noticing this too, because she smiled at them both and apologised. Rebecca was ushered into the lounge to take her clothes off and pack them into separate bags. The police woman was apologising again and talking about contaminated evidence. After stripping down to her underwear she sat down on the sofa and closed her eyes, she wasn't ready for this. She didn't want to answer their questions, her head was spinning, none of this felt real. She just wanted to curl up in a ball and go to sleep.

Her mum reappeared, holding her favourite pajamas. Sitting next to her on the sofa, and taking her hands into her own, she looked concerned.

"I'm okay mum, they didn't hurt me."

"We've been so worried about you, Rebecca."

She was crying again. They held each other, and then her dad was there too. Tentatively touching her arm, he was more reserved than her mum but he was clearly very relieved and very pleased that she was back safe. The police officer appeared with cups of sweet hot tea. Rebecca noticed that she seemed to be very familiar with her parents, some of her earlier hostility dissipated as she realised she felt grateful that they had some support during this stressful time.

Collecting the bagged up clothes, DC Short made her goodbyes and left, promising to return tomorrow with a car to take them to the station leaving Rebecca and her parents alone finally. They sat late into the evening. They didn't speak very much, it was clear her parents wanted to ask questions. But beyond establishing she was okay, they didn't push her too much once she explained she felt too overwhelmed to talk about it much. It felt nice to be home, it was familiar and comforting.

The following morning she dutifully arrived with both her parents at the station to be interviewed. Her presence seemed to be a thing of excitement as the station buzzed around her. Eventually she was shown into a room with some sofas and a vending machine and interviewed by a WPC. She was very gentle and understanding. When Rebecca didn't want to go into detail she didn't push her, she seemed particularly concerned about the possibility of any sort of assault, sexual or otherwise. When Rebecca insisted that nothing of that sort had happened she backed off.

Someone else brought them all tea in Styrofoam cups. It wasn't very nice. She couldn't remember the last time she'd drank so much tea. Her mum and dad were having an argument. Her dad wanted to ring his solicitor; her mum didn't think it was necessary. Eventually Rebecca told them she didn't want one. They'd just been told she had to speak to one more police officer before she was allowed to leave, someone from the specialist crime and operations section and she felt like she was answering too many questions already.

This time she was taken to an interview room, there were no sofas in there, no windows, just some chairs around a table and an old fashioned tape recorder on the table. The whole station had an old fashioned, institutionalised feel to it. Finding herself in this room, she suddenly felt like she'd been magically transported to the 70's.

Suddenly the officer from the specialist crime and operations section arrived and she watched fascinated as he put a cassette tape into the machine.

This police officer was a big man; short, dark hair with piercing blue eyes that seemed to be able see right into her soul. He seemed to exude a confidence and intelligence that made it harder to be economical with the truth like she had been with the others.

It felt like they'd been there for hours and he'd asked her hundreds of questions. She squirmed uncomfortably under his stare; she didn't want to lie but she didn't want to say anything to make it easier for them to find Jason either. It might be that she was never going to see him again, but she hated to imagine what would happen if they caught him.

"What do you remember about what happened? I know you couldn't see, but there are other details that might be helpful. I want you to take me through what happened again, from the beginning."

She told her story again. No, she didn't work at the bank; she was just a sandwich delivery girl. She hadn't realised immediately that there was a robbery and then before she'd had the chance to get away some guy crept up and grabbed her from behind. After that she was always blindfolded. She mentioned how many there were, the accents, the crunching sound of the gravel in the drive, the vehicle switch in the car park.

"Did you see anyone's face at any point?"

"No."

"Did you hear any names?"

"No."

"Can you remember anything else that might be useful? Anything at all?"

She shook her head. He looked at her, waiting for her to speak. The silence stretched out between them, heavy and oppressive. She squirmed under his stare desperate to look away, to look anywhere else, but she didn't dare break eye contact. She was sure he knew that she was lying, that she wasn't telling him everything and he knew that she knew.

Abruptly, he stood.

"I think we've taken this as far as we can go. My name is Chief Inspector Williams concluding this interview at..." he looked at his watch, "4:32PM pm."

He pushed a button on the tape recorder on the table.

"Thank you for your assistance, Miss Taylor." And without a backward glance he strolled out of the interview room.

She was cross-examined repeatedly by different police officers, over the following days, some in uniform, some not. None of them had the penetrating stare of Chief Inspector Williams. They didn't believe her when she said she hadn't been harmed, and insisted on doing medical examinations. She was asked the same questions over and over again until she'd repeated the answers so many times. She wasn't even thinking about the experience directly, just saying the same thing. She either couldn't or wouldn't tell them anything of any importance. They seemed to sense this was going nowhere and finally they stopped.

The following days were intense. She refused to do any interviews or even answer any questions but still her photo ended up in the papers. The local paper was particularly interested. Everyone in Barnet seemed to be very concerned about her; complete strangers stopped her in the street and wanted to know if she was okay. She seemed to spend a lot of time reassuring people.

Eventually her life returned to some semblance of normality. Her parents were supportive and obviously concerned but they seemed to understand that she didn't want to talk about it. They were just relieved she was okay. She returned to work, back to delivering sandwiches. It was strange the first time she went back to the bank. They were all so pleased to see her. Staff who'd never acknowledged her presence before seemed to know her name.

She missed Jason. More than she cared to admit. She missed his voice she craved his touch. She constantly wondered where he was and what he was doing. She even dreamt about him a few times, waking up breathless, disoriented and frustratingly aroused.

Had the police found him? She was sure she would know if they had. Did he ever think about her? She missed him so much at times it felt like she was missing a limb. She doubted he felt the same, she imagined the sex they'd had was just convenient for him, but on other days she would remember his parting words:

'I wish things could have been different between us.'

She needed to stop thinking about him all the time. It wasn't going to change anything. She needed to move on. Here she was in Edinburgh doing her degree in botany, she'd wanted this for so long, worked so hard to get here and she needed to focus.

-

Jason spotted her as soon as she left the building. She looked beautiful, more beautiful than even his memories of her. She was wearing skinny jeans, clutching her bag to her chest. Her cardigan had fallen down to reveal the strap of a camisole top and a tantalising shoulder, she was wearing her hair in a low bun but tendrils had escaped and framed her face beautifully. She was with the tall red head again. They were laughing about something. She was smiling, she looked happy.

He frowned to himself, he couldn't remember ever feeling this strange mixture of edgy, expectant apprehension before.

He desperately wanted to call out to her, to touch her, but he was still undecided. Perhaps it was best if he didn't approach her, maybe he should leave her to get on with her life. So she could find someone else, someone who wasn't on the run, someone who could look after her, someone who could give her what she deserved.

But then someone else joined the girls as they walked. A boy. Jason watched uncomfortably as Rebecca laughed at something the boy said. He was almost over there pulling him off and punching him in the face as he watched him touch Rebecca's arm. Although he managed to reign in the more violent urges, now that he was confronted with the possibility of her actually finding someone else, all thoughts letting her get on with her life left him abruptly. He took his helmet off.

Rebecca looked up at Simon and behind him out of the corner of her eye she noticed a man on the other side of the square, standing by a motorbike, for a minute there he looked suspiciously like... She stopped and stared open mouthed. He was staring back at her.

Both Carla and Simon could see there was something up.

"Becs? Are you okay?" Carla asked. "Becca?"

Her heart was in her mouth; the lurch of apprehension was so strong she felt almost like she'd been winded. Could it be?

"Huh? Sorry, I think I just saw someone I know."

"You look like you've seen a ghost." Carla replied looking in the direction Rebecca was staring in and casting an appreciative glance at the man standing by the motorbike.

"Yeah, something like that. I..." she replied slowly, "Guys," she said carefully, never taking her eyes off the man on the bike. "I'm going to have to take a rain check on lunch."

"Of course." Carla said, giving Rebecca a quick peck on the cheek and squeezing her hand. "I'll see you later? At botanical science?"

"Yeah, sure, see you then."

She smiled absently as Simon pulled her into a brief but enthusiastic hug.

"Catch you later babes." he grinned.

She walked, well floated really, towards Jason feeling giddy with apprehension, still not quite believing he was really there. When she finally reached him he pulled her into a vice like embrace and an aggressively savage kiss. Her head was spinning, her heart beating so fast she thought it might burst out of her chest. It felt like every cell in her body singing with need.

Overwhelmed, she pressed her hands against him and pushed him away in order to give herself the room to look up at his face. For what seemed like an eternity she just stared at him speechless, trying to fight the urge to cry as her eyes welled up.

Finally, she found her voice. "What are you doing here? I thought was never going to see you again. How did you find me?"

"I..." he looked at her, his eyes burning with an unreadable mixture of emotions. "I had to see you." He sounded nervous.

"She lifted her hand and touched his face, running a tentative finger down his cheek and across his jaw, unable to quite believe he was really there. He closed his eyes, savouring her touch.

Opening them again he asked, "Are you pleased to see me?" He sounded cautious unsure, the look in his eyes was guarded, his was brow creased into a frown.

She still didn't speak; she just stared up at him. He was more handsome even than she remembered. He was so handsome, so heart stoppingly, breathtakingly handsome.

Slowly she shook her head in disbelief. "I feel like..." She paused and looked down, biting her lip, she was unsure exactly how to describe the enormity of her feelings. "I feel like I've just dived into an Olympic sized swimming pool after weeks of being lost in the desert."

Embarrassed by her own frankness she peeped up at him, she could see by the familiar smug, self satisfied smile that was spreading across his face that a simple yes would have sufficed.

She let out an exasperated sigh. "How are you going to get your helmet back on your head?"

He laughed, and the sound of his laughter was like music to her ears. His accent sounded melodic and teasing, she was suddenly transported to the very first day in the bank all those months ago, the first time she'd heard his voice, even when she'd been quaking with terror it had triggered an illicit response, however inappropriate.

And then he was kissing her again, cupping his hands underneath her and gently lifting her so she was sitting on the edge of the seat of his motorbike he stepped in between her thighs and pressed himself against her. Her fingers travelled up his body until she reached his hair. It was longer she noticed as she clutched fistfuls of it, pulling him closer.

He gripped her waist. She'd forgotten how big his hands were; it felt like they almost enclosed her waist entirely. She could feel herself melting as he pulled her closer, she was just starting to completely lose any awareness of her surroundings when suddenly it was him that was breaking the kiss. She whimpered with frustration and met his gaze to find him staring down at her with a wicked glint in his eye.

"It was my intention to do something civilised like take you to lunch but I find I can't be in a public place with you for another second. Can I take you home?"

As she nodded dazedly, he flipped open the top box and handed her the helmet it contained.

"Climb on."

She did.

"Hold on to me tight." He ordered.

"You won't go too fast? I've never been on a motorbike before."

She felt silly as soon as she'd said it. She felt rather than heard his deep throaty chuckle as she pressed herself against his back and wrapped her arms round him.

"That's not why I want you to hold me tight, angel."

The engine roared to life and the bike lurched forward powerfully, the vibrations sent shockwaves through her, intensifying her already aroused state. As they pulled away she noticed Carla and Simon standing stock still in the square where she left them, Carla looked shocked, Simon was scowling. She waved and smiled reassuringly, and then she remembered she was wearing a helmet so they probably couldn't see much of her face anyway.

As they pulled up outside the house, she wondered fleetingly how he knew where she lived, but the overwhelming desire she was feeling overrode any questions she had. Climbing off the bike, she walked up to her door, searching through her pockets for her keys.

The very moment they were through the front door, he lifted her up against him as he pushed her against a wall in the hallway. He kissed her hungrily on the lips. She was melting with need for him.

"Wrap your legs round me." He demanded. "Which is your room?

As he lifted her, she clung to his neck.

"It's upstairs first on the right." She managed to answer between kisses. "On your right." she added.

He pushed her bedroom door open and they fell onto the bed. They were both quaking with incoherent desperation; he was on top, she was underneath, they were tearing at each other's clothes. She was vaguely aware of one of the buttons from her cardigan pinging off and bouncing off a wall. Briefly she glanced in the direction of the noise.

"I'll buy you a new one." He grunted as he peeled it back off her shoulders.

He grabbed her hair and pulled out the hair band, watching with unapologetic lust as it sprung free from the tie and fell, cascading down her shoulders. Rebecca's jeans and cardigan were gone and so was her underwear, but she was still wearing her top. Jason was far from naked when his erection sprang free of his jeans. He thrust into her in one steady forceful movement. She gasped at the intrusion. She'd forgotten how good it felt, how right. When he was buried as deeply as he could get, they groaned in unison.