Taking Money

Taking Money Ch. 29

Okay guys this is the LAST CHAPTER of "Taking Money" and I have a feeling you guys are going to hate me at the end. Hopefully not too much;) but anyone I hope everyon enjoyed this story bc i sure did! and I wld like to also thank everyone who stuck with this story even after I put it on hold for awhile!

I love you all make sure you read the comment at the end! thank you!

keep writing!

cheesehead:)

Chapter Twenty Nine

  Cass

          Once we were all out of the car, we exchanged looks. I wasn't exactly sure what the looks meant, but I didn't like the look of them. Carson grabbed my hand and pulled me close to him. Thomas put his arm around Kacie and whispered something in her ear. She looked like she was trying hard not to cry as she nodded her head.

          "Let's go," Carson murmured, kissing the side of my head before walking towards the warehouse. We gripped the bags of money in our hands tightly as we walked closer as a group.

          Carson didn't even bother knocking on the door; he just pushed it open and dragged me inside with him. I looked back at Kacie and Thomas and they quickly followed behind. "Mr. Ross?" Carson called out.

          There was silence.

          "Ian?" I yelled. No response.

          "Alberto?" Kacie tried, in a thick Italian accent.

          "Mr. Ross," Carson yelled again. A door creaked open and all of our heads snapped towards the door. "Come on," Carson urged.

          "Car, I don't know about this," I whispered, clutching tightly to his arm, "This place gives me the creeps."

          "Me too," Kacie squeaked, cuddling under Thomas's arm. Kacie's eyes were wide with fear, and glazed over in tears. Thomas bent his head slightly and whispered something in her ear.

          "It's alright Cassie," Carson urged, and then he whispered, "I'll protect you." I shivered but nodded my head. Carson held tightly to my hand and pulled me towards the door.

          When we walked inside, Mr. Ross was sitting at the head of a long table. He had file folders opened wide in front of him, and his hands were folded neatly in front of him. "Well, well, well," He smirked, "It looks like I was right."

          Carson grabbed one of the bags from my hand and held it up. "Here's your money," Carson snapped, "Now where's ours."

          Mr. Ross nodded his head. He leaned down and put four separate bags on the table. It was then that I suddenly had millions of questions. That precise moment when my brain finally decided to kick in.

          Why didn't we just run when we had all of Mr. Ross's money? Why didn't we just turn him in? Why would he need this money if he had enough money to give each of us five grand? How did Mr. Ross know who to target? Why did my Mom not call the police by now, saying that I was missing?

          But most of wall, who the heck was Mr. Ross? This mysterious man that sat before us. We had accepted his job offer, without even having any knowledge of what we were going into. Why did we do all this you ask? Or why didn't we know these answers? Simple, because we were stupid teenagers.

          "That all ours?" Carson asked, his smooth voice breaking my thoughts.

          "Yes," Mr. Ross nodded, "I'm assuming that you kept up your end of the deal?"