Mark (Mallick Brothers 3)

"This is Navesink Bank. I heard Third Street popping off rounds for no other reason than they were still alive this morning. I didn't need..."

Whatever else she was going to say was cut off by the yells of the NBPD as they stormed inside, guns out, eyes keen, fanning out in military fashion I hadn't been aware they were trained enough to know how to do. Because, let's face it, the majority of the NBPD was in the pockets of one or more of the criminal enterprises in the area. They didn't really need training to know how to 'lose' paperwork or damning evidence.

"Mallick," a familiar voice called, making both of us start and turn toward the aisle where a cop was lowering his gun. "What part of 'make your way out of the store' was so hard to understand?"

That was Detective Lloyd. He was, from what I heard, NBPD's youngest detective. He was also in no one's pocket, which really said something about his character. It also made him a bit of a dick at times. Well, only to me and my fellow criminals. We couldn't really fault him for that.

Tall, dark, and attractive. He could have any woman he wanted, but I literally had never seen him on the town looking for any.

Weird fuck, that one.

"Lloyd, nice to see you," I said, ignoring the look from the woman was sending me, something that looked a mix of confused and intrigued. "You'll excuse us if we aren't as abiding of the rules. We were just in a hold-up," I said, not bothering to keep the smile in.

And, Lloyd, while a dick at times, also had a decent enough sense of humor, making him put his gun back in his holster, and give me a half-smile. "You? Following rules? Think fucking hell would freeze over if that happened. Come on, out front," he said, moving to the side, arm raised, a silent invitation and order to do what he said.

The woman shot me a look when I held a hand out as well, inviting her to go first, something she didn't seem overly appreciative of, but went regardless. I followed, flanked by Lloyd, until we walked toward the front doors, met by a collection of detectives.

"Mark," Collings greeted me, giving me a smirk. Collings, I liked. Most of the criminals around did. He understood shit in Navesink Bank. He knew the power dynamic. He accepted that, while we were all criminals, that there was a hierarchy, there were rules, there was a code. Most of us only hurt each other if we hurt anyone. No innocents got caught in the crossfire. No blood was spilled from people who were not involved. So he didn't go out of his way to be a thorn in our asses. He let us handle our business and only hauled us in if we were caught in the act or had a complaint out on us. He spent his time doing actual good- dragging in rapists and wife-beaters and dealers.

"Collings, aren't you due for fucking retirement yet? I swear you've been on my ass since I was eleven years old."

"Only because you were getting in trouble since you were ten," he agreed. "Couple more years. I'm in the home stretch."

"You've had an exciting career at least," I said, shrugging. "And now you can add 'armed robbery' to your resume. Good times."

"Yeah, just what my blood pressure needed today. Where were you when this all took place?" he asked, pulling out a small busted-looking notebook and pen, ready to jot notes.

"About two aisles over. I was in the main lane when the lights cut out and something told me shit was wonky so I took myself down the aisle and stood at the end-cap. This sweet little thing," I said, giving her a smile when she glared at me, "had the same idea. That's where we were when the shots went off."

"Right. And can I have your name?" he asked her, making her lose some of the tension in her shoulders.

"Angela Boots," she supplied.

"And did either of you get a good look at the perps?"

"It was dark," Angela supplied automatically.

Collings' eyes went to me, likely knowing if anyone in the store got even a halfway decent description, it was likely the guy who was in dangerous situations weekly and wouldn't let fear cloud his vision. "Tall. My height. One of them maybe even taller. Dark hair. Strong bodies, but not bulky like Shane. Like she said, it was dark. That was all I could get from where I was. But they were practiced. Professional. Not one step out of line. Oh, they were looking for someone though."

"Looking for someone?" he asked, perking up slightly.

"One of their men must have been missing. Scott, they called him. The leader seemed to be freaking out about not being able to find him. But they apparently had a rule for situations like this. One of the others reminded him of that, and they hauled ass out of here."