Free Reckless: Backsteel Bandits MC by Olivia Stephens

“How may I help you, sir?”
     
    Tyler leaned on the counter and hunched his shoulders. His eyes darted around the back area, faintly wondering where Miranda was. He didn't want to see her with the request he had. “I'd like to close my account.”
     
    “Certainly, sir,” the man answered with crisp professionalism. His smile retained that glassy expression as he asked Tyler a few questions. After gaining the information he needed, and accessing Tyler's account, the bald man asked, “Is there another bank account you'd like to transfer your money to?”
     
    Tyler forced himself to remain breezy and cool. He hated the runaround banks gave him, especially when it entailed a good deal of money. It was his money, wasn't it? “No, I'd like to cash it all out.”
     
    The teller's eyebrows twitched upward, almost imperceptibly. The air in Tyler's lungs locked. This was going to be a problem. He could smell it on the air. The teller retrieved his smile, though, and replied, “I'll need to go get my manager to make sure it's okay.”
     
    Before Tyler could answer, the man scurried away. He puffed out a sigh of exasperation. The less he saw Miranda, the less likely he'd want to spend another night with her. His stomach coiled unhappily as he heard her familiar footfalls on the carpet.
     
    “Mr. Ferguson,” Miranda smiled glassily at him. She was all professionalism. “I hear you want to take all your money out.”
     
    Tyler couldn't meet her eye. He kept his face trained on her, though his gaze flickered elsewhere behind his sunglasses. He simply nodded and grunted, “Yep.”
     
    “That's a lot of money to carry on your person.” Her warning tone had a lick of worry to it. When older patrons wanted to cash out their seventy-odd thousand dollars, there was quite a lot of hoopla. Thankfully, though Tyler had a decent amount of cash in his bank account, he didn't have enough to call for an escort out. Besides, he was a big, strong biker. No one would posit a complaint about her breach of protocol.
     
    He hunched his shoulders and pursed his lips. “I know.”
     
    “All right, I'll handle this, Lenny.” Miranda smiled as her employee scurried away. She turned back to the computer, resisting the urge to frown. She typed in the override commands, adding a note that the patron was out-of-town. Faintly, she wondered if her mother – who took to overseeing most transactions – would recognize Tyler's name.
     
    The musing of her mother didn't quite overwrite the other thoughts circulating in Miranda's head. Tyler was taking all of his money from his account. That meant he was leaving. Her heart ached and the back of her eyes burned. She took deep, inconspicuous breaths through her nose. She couldn't turn into a puddle of tears while at work – especially, not in the middle of a transaction.
     
    As her fingers clacked across the keyboard, she took a straightened her thoughts. Whatever Tyler did, it was his business. They weren't dating and he had no obligation to her. Her heart hiccupped at the very thought. Regardless, Miranda turned to Tyler, her own glassy smile affixed to her lips. “Mr. Ferguson, typically, we have a waiting period to withdraw money from the bank. It's highly unusual to withdraw everything.”
     
    For a second, anger flickered across his features, followed closely by a pinched worry. Who was a bank to decide when and how he could have his money? And if he didn't take it all, they'd have a credit trail, easily traceable by Lloyd or Pete. The thought made Tyler's stomach fall to his knees.
     
    He ran his hand through his hair, his brows furrowing. Before he could manage to mutter dissent, Miranda sighed. She turned back to the computer and typed something in. Then, without a word to Tyler, she turned away and waltzed into the back room.
     
    Overall, Legacy's bank did extremely well. The amount Tyler wanted to withdraw wasn't so extreme and wouldn't require the bank to report it. However,