Giovanni bobbed his head up and down to the song coming from the radio, mouthing along. The music boomed from the speakers and he could quite literally feel the vibration beneath his fingertips.
When his eyes flickered up to gaze into the rearview mirror, the corners of his mouth involuntarily turned downward. He took note of his unkempt reflection. The dark brown hue of his hair, almost verging on black. Feeling his split ends between his fingertips, he blinked in an irked manner. It might have been time to go back to see Sky since only she knew how to snip them the way he liked.
The small, imperceptible downturn at the edges of his mouth caught his attention again. A feature which mirrored his father's frown. Every time he noticed this shared trait, a familiar weight settled in his chest. He did not like the feeling. It brought up memories and emotions he preferred to keep buried.
The grey eyes staring back at him seemed dark and unfeeling. Pressing down against the dark circles underneath them, he kissed his teeth in annoyance. He looked like a fucking raccoon. He slowly ran his fingers along his jawline, tracing the familiar contours, and sighed heavily.
Seeing that same expression on his own face felt like a burden he would have to bear. A constant reminder that no matter how much he tried to distance myself from his father, a part of him would always live on in me. With one last lingering look in the mirror, he turned away, pushing down the familiar ache in his chest.
Comfortably sitting back in the car seat, he firmly pressed the hat back onto his head. Above him on the corner of the building, the security camera moved around to blink down at me. With a little amused smirk, he tipped his hat at it courteously.
He had an inkling that it was one of their two hackers controlling the cameras depending on who was hacking into what. It was most likely Marc hacking the security cameras. Airi had never failed to hack into a bank, and he could say with confidence, she would not fail this one.
Maybe. I don't know.
When his phone rang in his pocket, he fished it out of his pocket, making sure to keep his gaze on the building. When he saw the name of the person who was calling me, he hesitated to answer it.
After a second of it ringing, he just pressed the answer button before he could talk himself out of doing it. "Sky, I am a little busy right now. Can this wait?"
"So you are alive still?" Why that was the first thing she asked him, baffled him. That was until she ended with an adamant, "Which means I still have an opportunity to kill you myself."
"What?" he mused, his eyebrows furrowing down in confusion.
"Where are you?" she demanded.
"Uh…"
His gaze callously flickered back to the building, resting on the two masked individuals, threateningly waving their desert eagles in the air. Those unfortunate enough to have been caught in the crossfire were instructed to lie down and kiss the footsteps staining the floor. Hostages, bargaining chips if necessary. Mick was strolling through the aisles without a care in the world while B caused as much havoc as possible to instil enough fear in the patrons.
The one security guard who tried to hit the alarm was lying face flat on the ground, incapacitated. The other two he was unable to see no matter how far back he leaned into his seat. They must have been somewhere in the very back of the bank, hacking the monitors to open the vault or something.
He admittedly had no idea what went on in the bank. He was merely the driver. Sat alone in the car. It was peaceful. He liked it. To a certain extent. This was the only chance he had to breathe, to prepare himself for the chaos that was about to ensue as it always had. The cops would show up and then the real thrill began.
For him, at least.
"Yeah, like I said, I am a little busy right now, Sky."
Her side of the call got dauntingly quiet and he moved the device from his ear to check if she had hung up on him already. She had not. She was simply choosing to be quiet.
"You actual limp dick," she eventually said after the long wait, all her words emphasised.
"Miss Arkwright," he scolded her with an amused smile on his face. "That is no way to speak to your boyfriend."
"I am being serious, Gio."
"Okay, um… I am actually thrown off here. You know, normally, the name calling is warranted because I can be a limp dick sometimes…" After rethinking his last word, he quickly corrected himself. "Okay, most times, but this time, I am genuinely confused. Why are you upset at me?"
"Because I took the day off work, for you to make plans with me and then not even show up," she yelled.
For a second, he was left stumped, wondering what she was talking about. There was no way he would make plans with her today of all days. He and the crew had been planning to rob this bank for the past three weeks now. Why would he tell her to take a day off today?
Until it came back to him. The day he was watching a game of cricket while Skylar was cooking up a meal, pots and pans clattering in the kitchen loudly as if she was trying to catch his attention. When he eventually asked her what was wrong with her over his shoulder, she petulantly yelled at him and called him a dick for making her take a day off work for him to merely watch a cricket game and let her cook for us.
And he disinterestedly muttered, "Sorry, baby. I'll take you out another day."
That day was apparently today.
"Oh fuck, Sky. I am so sorry. It genuinely slipped my mind. I'm really sorry. I promise I will make it up to you."
"You can make it up to me right now by showing up at this restaurant, Gio," she said.
He winced at the venomous tone she carried through the phone. "I can't do that. As I said, I am a little busy right now."
"Where are you?" she demanded.
He grimaced again as though in mental pain, dreading the next conversation we were going to have face to face. She was definitely going to tear him a new one and he would deserve it. He was a terrible boyfriend.
When he first met Sky at that bar and she actually spoke to me, he felt like he was genuinely getting pranked.
That night, he was drowning in a couple of beers, and she was sitting a stool away from him. He noticed her the moment she entered the bar. In fact, every guy in that bar noticed her the moment she walked through the door. That was how drop dead gorgeous she was. Each time one of them would approach her, she would send them packing. Then she leaned over towards him and greeted him with a friendly grin.
Giovanni remembered sobering up very quickly.
After exchanging numbers that night, he thought that was the end of it. He had met a cute, sound babe at a bar, they had a great conversation and he made her laugh a couple of times, but he thought that it would end there. She was not going to reach out to him, and he definitely did not have the balls to call her.
It came as a surprise when the very next day, she texted him and asked him if he wanted to meet up for a coffee date on the following Saturday.
They met up that day and instantly, they clicked. The conversation between them bounced around naturally. He managed to sneak in a few flirtatious lines which earned him a light chuckle and a soft blush. She somehow made him feel comfortable with the thought of not being alone.
During their many dates, he found himself learning a lot about Sky. She told him that she was a doctor who was striving to work with children. She also told him that she came from a rich family and was supposed to inherit the family business, but she wanted to make something of herself, independently so that nobody could claim that they made her or they owned her.
He only told her the little things about himself. He told her about his depression. He told her about his living arrangements which was how she offered him a place in her apartment. He found himself genuinely falling for this girl. After a few weeks, he finally grew the pair to ask her to be his girlfriend. He was so happy when she said yes.
"Gio," she called when he remained silent for too long.
"I'm… I'm sorta doing a thing," he stammered out, not wanting to lie to her, but also not wanting to tell her the truth just in case it jeopardised her safety.
"What thing?"
"I can't tell you, but it's really important and I wish I could tell you about it, but I don't wanna get you in trouble if things go wrong."
"If things go wrong?" she exclaimed in a loud whisper. "What the hell are you doing? Are you involved in some illegal shit?"
When he caught some movement through the corner of his eye, he gazed outside the window and saw the boys rushing over to the car. Batuhan was carrying Marcellin, and the twins were carrying the bags filled with cash he was presuming.
When he saw Marcellin clutching his side, his eyebrows furrowed down in perplex. Studying his hand, he saw the crimson liquid which was seeping through his fingers. It did not take a genius to guess what that was.
Blood, that was fucking blood.
Why was he bleeding?
His heart started hammering in his chest in panic.
What the fuck was going on? Why was one of them hurt? He was so confused. Did they not incapacitate the guard who was trying to be a hero? Was there someone else who tried it?
When he heard Skylar's voice, he realised that he was still on the phone to her so he quietly murmured in a daze, "Um… Sky, I am gonna have to call you back."
"Don't fucking hang up on me, Giova—"
The three of them got in the back of the car while Mickey slid into the passenger seat.
"What the fuck happened?" he nervously asked, looking back at Marcellin who was breathing loudly.
"Drive," Marcellin commanded weakly, trying to hide the look of pain on his face by burying his chin into his chest. His strawberry blonde hair was matted down onto his forehead from the sweat drenching it.
"What?" he mused in confusion.
"You heard the man," Batuhan diverted his attention from Marcellin onto him. "Fucking drive!"
Giovanni was still confused about what was going on. He needed to know what happened. Was Marcellin going to be okay?
Oh, fuck!
Was he going to die?
"Lloyd, they hit the panic button. The cops will be here any second now. You need to fucking drive."
"Drive!"
As the sirens wailed in the far distance, he turned to face Batuhan whose eyes were filled with a sense of urgency. His gaze flickered over at Marcellin whose eyes were slowly closing, but even in his fading state, he could sense the desperation in his gaze.
At that moment, he knew what he had to do. He could not let his mate's injuries be in vain. He sat up, behind the wheel of the car, and decided that he had to drive them out of there. So, with a determined mindset and his game face on, he slid his hands around the steering wheel and prepared to get them to safety.
After swiftly fastening his seatbelt, he focused on the road ahead. He released the handbrake and turned the engine on, making a sharp turn into the flow of traffic. Another car honked its horn aggressively, having to brake hard to avoid hitting them. Giovanni slammed his foot on the accelerator and deftly manoeuvred through the busy streets, trying to take the first turn he could to avoid attracting the attention of the police.
The second he turned, Mick cussed aloud, "They saw that."
He kept driving. He had to lose them quickly. For Marcellin.
"Marc, look at me," he heard Batuhan talking to him in the back. "Look at me, man. I need you to try and stay awake, okay? Don't close your eyes, you hear me. Airi, give me your jacket. I need to put pressure on the wound."
As he drove down the road, his eyes kept darting back and forth between the road in front of him and his rearview mirror. Marcellin seemed to be drifting in and out of consciousness, his head drooping low. He could feel his heart racing in his chest as his mind raced to try and figure out what to do next. He could not believe this was happening.
This was not part of the plan.
This was not part of the plan at all.
The plan was supposed to be simple. They would rob the bank, get the money, drive for a little bit, and drop the crew off at an inconspicuous fork in the tunnels. From there, four dirt bikes would be waiting for them to drive to safety while he pulled the chase away in the opposite direction. Now with Marc in this state, he did not know if they could even go through with that plan.
How was he supposed to ride a bike in his current condition?
He could not risk his safety or the safety of the others. He needed to think of a new plan, and fast.
"You have about three interceptors, one CVPI and I see a four-by-four in the back, but it has long eyes," Mick communicated to him as he always did during car chases. "You just need to lose these four and you'll be set."
"And then what?" Giovanni asked in a panic, unable to hide the overwhelming sense of fear which was building up inside me. "Do I still go to the tunnels?"
"You're asking the wrong person, Lloyd," he said, and he hated how composed he sounded as if one of their heist members was not bleeding his guts out. "The Crown Victoria pulled off the chase by the way. It might be trying to parallel you."
As he was racing down the street, he felt himself getting lost in thought for just a moment. That was when it happened—the car started to spin out of control.
Quickly, Giovanni reacted by spinning the wheel in the opposite direction and easing off the accelerator.
Somehow he managed to correct the spin just in time. But as he looked ahead, he saw that he was going to plough straight through a newspaper stand. He let out a frustrated huff when a few papers fluttered in the wind from his small crash, knowing that he could not afford to make any more mistakes like that. His driving skills had never been this bad.
"You just ran a pedestrian over," Mickey informed him with an indifferent look on his face.
"No, I didn't." He quickly glanced up at the rearview mirror to check and low and behold, lying there on the floor was said pedestrian. With an amused chuckle, he murmured under his breath, "Oh, yeah, I did."
"There is no way you just snickered, you heartless prick."
The police cars pursuing him were still following closely and they had lost some ground thanks to his little mishap. Giovanni knew he could not afford to make any more mistakes if he was going to get away from them. He took a deep breath and tried to regain his focus.
Focus up, you can do this.
Airi must have noticed his lack of concentration because she leaned forward in the space between the driver and passenger seat. She pulled her mask off.
"Okay Lloyd, listen to me," she started in her soft calming voice, wearing an earnest look for the first time since he had known the kid. "X is going to be fine, you hear me? It's just a flesh wound. So, tune this out and focus up. You've got this. You're the best driver I know."
"That's not saying much," Mick muttered under his breath. "I mean, how many drivers do you even know, little sister?"
He glared at Mick from the corner of his eye.
Airi flicked her twin on the back of his head and then an argument broke out between the two.
It did not help when he again caught Batuhan struggling to keep Marcellin Raphaël awake in the back. Poor Marc seemed to be in excruciating pain, heavy breaths escaping him and sweat dripping down his temples. His injuries seemed much more severe than just a flesh wound. When he said thrill and adrenaline, he did not think it would be this sort of thrill and adrenaline.
As he looked at the flashing police lights behind them, his mind raced with a combination of fear and excitement. Despite the chaos going on in the car, he felt a sense of determination building up inside him. His heart beat so loudly in his ears that he could barely hear anyone's voice. But he knew Airi was right—he was the best driver in the city.
He was going to get them out of this situation safely.
After bumping the volume up, the car filled with loud sound of rock and roll.
Slamming his foot down on the accelerator, he drove like his life depended on it because it did. The interceptors followed closely and through their speakers, they warningly yelled at him to stop the vehicle.
He gripped the steering wheel tighter and felt a rush of energy as he skilfully manoeuvred the car through the crowded streets. With every turn and every swerve, the thrill of the chase coursed through his veins but at the same time, he knew that he needed to stay focused and keep his wits about him if he wanted to get them out of there in one piece.
He kept his gaze flickering up at the rearview mirror and the windscreen to see if he could break some ankles.
An idea suddenly hit him.
He instinctively lifted his foot off the accelerator and gently applied pressure on the brakes to slow down while still maintaining a moderate speed. In the rearview mirror, he noticed the first interceptor vehicle closing in on him at a high speed, trying to catch up. Despite the fast pursuit, they were unable to quickly gain on him with his change in driving.
Just as predicted, they attempted to execute a pit manoeuvre to stop him in his tracks. However, being one step ahead, he quickly turned the wheel to the right, drifting effortlessly into the turn.
Meanwhile, the interceptor vehicle carried on driving straight ahead, unable to change course in time, eventually losing control and crashing into the back of a car in traffic.
"Oh, that was disgusting," Mickey hissed past his clenched teeth, glancing over his shoulder to look at the crashed out interceptor and he could hear how impressed he was from his tone.
"Victoria setting up for spikes," Batuhan warningly yelled from the backseat.
"I see them," Giovanni responded calmly, tugging on the handbrake and drifting into an alleyway to avoid getting spiked.
The interceptors did not turn into the alleyway with him, but he could still hear the loud sirens even after the many turns he kept taking. He needed to get out of these alleyways. He was too susceptible to getting spiked here.
"Fuck me, we have a heli on us," Mick muttered sounding irritated. "That's how they are setting up for spikes. You might need to go into the tunnels."
"We're not going down there until I lose the ground units," he urgently said finally escaping the alleyways into the road.
As the interceptors continued to trail them, now knowing they were keeping up with the help of the helicopter, his mind raced to try and come up with a plan to shake these off.
Mickey looked over at him, his expression tense as if trying to read his mind.
Giovanni racked his brain, trying to think of a solution when suddenly, he remembered the jump he had been practising for the past three weeks—the one that had wrecked every single one of Batuhan's 1996 Honda Accord Wagons.
A small smile appeared on his lips as he realised that this could be their ticket to freedom.
He quickly scanned the surroundings, trying to gauge the helicopter's altitude, and then turned to Mickey who saw the look of excitement on his face. It was an immediate signal for him to buckle up and hurriedly he clicked his seatbelt securely.
As he looked up, he could see the helicopter hovering above them. Without a moment's hesitation, he drove straight towards the jump. It was a risky move but he knew it was their best bet to get out of this dangerous situation. Once the first interceptor crashed out, it would be over for the rest of the ground units.
When he saw the jump in front of him, he warningly said, "Buckle up, boys."
"Lloyd, what are you doing?" Mickey asked.
"Gio?" Batuhan murmured nervously.
He clutched the handbrake and spun the car over the jump.
The car instantly took off the second he felt the wheels leave the ground. They gained some major airtime and for those three seconds, he felt weightless and free and not a single thought ran through his mind. Behind them over his shoulder, he saw the interceptors attempting to take the same jump, but they did not take it the same way he did. They took it the same way a younger Giovanni Lloyd would have.
When the wheels of his car hit the ground, he skidded out a bit, but he quickly turned the wheel to fix the small mishap. He heard the familiar sound of metal crashing and screeching, and he smirked, already aware that we had just successfully taken out the first interceptor.
"They crashed out," Mick said after looking back. "Go, go, go."
"See? I told you, you could do it," Airi yelled with restrained excitement, grabbing his shoulders over the headrest and shaking him about.
He hit the accelerator, adrenaline pumping through his veins and the car sped away, leaving the remaining interceptors far behind as they turned into the tunnels to lose the helicopter. They were safe for now, and he could not help but feel a sense of triumph and satisfaction at our successful escape.
He chuckled, trembling from the adrenaline rush.
In the tunnels, he took some turns just in case they got a lone cop car to follow him, and Batuhan marked a car they could swap into on the GPS.
"Still not the best driver in the city, Mick?"
"Holy," he muttered shockingly, glancing over at him and he didn't miss the ashen look on his face. "You're fucking crazy, man."