The Bank's Phones

The bank's phones are lying in a good-sized pile in the middle of the floor. Fat chunks of sheet rock still attached to their yanked out jacks. When the suspect appears to be done fondling me, I raise my taped arms to indicate the lunch bags. A young blonde woman who we identified as Joyce Gaines speaks to me in hushed tones. Are you with the police? The gunman shouts and my heart jumps into my throat, sugar tits. He gestures with the glock, you, take off their hoods and untape their mouths. At his command, I remove the tape connecting the man to the front door handle,. cringing at how much hair I