And if I knew what was good for me, I’d stay the hell away from Noah Lucas.
The Lazy Moosewas behind me now, and that stupid cowboy was finally starting to fade from my mind. What lay ahead mattered more, and it would take everything I had.
The motel sign flickered weakly when I pulled in, my room waiting. I dropped my bag on the desk and set up under the single desk lamp.
I let the necklace settle into my palm, its weight both familiar and suffocating as I felt the brush of metal against my skin. The diamonds caught the light, winking as if they knew their freedom was coming.
“I’m sorry, Mom,” I murmured.
Second thoughts pressed in, clear and relentless.
But my resolve was unshaken.
I was doing this for Cleo. Without the transplant, she wouldn’t make it.
My fingers curled around the necklace, the edges biting into my skin.
“And fuck you, Annamaria.”
This treasure was leaving her life for good.
“That thief!”
Those words bruised. Ironic and ugly.
Maybe that was rich, coming from me. I was the one who’d been convicted after all.
But the truth?
She was the real thief.
With careful hands, I eased the metal prongs apart, targeting the smaller stones. Larger diamonds would’ve been faster, easier. But big, flawless rocks would attract too much attention.
I reached for the tool I’d crafted myself—a modified needle file, its edge honed to perfection. Not too sharp. Not too rough. Just fine enough to slide between the delicate prongs and lift the diamonds without leaving a mark.
One wrong move and I’d risk scratching the stone.
And in this game? Details were everything.
I applied controlled pressure, coaxing the first diamond free. No chips. No scratches. Just as I’d been taught.
I’d learned this from my cellmate before Katy. She was a woman with quick fingers and a past just as tangled as mine.
She’d been a jewelry thief—one of the best. And when the prison first paired us up, she made sure I knew exactly where I ranked. She was petty and nasty, always setting me up against other inmates.
But when she’d gotten beaten up in a dispute, I’d stepped in. And in return, she’d taught me things. She wasn’t kind. Not like Katy. But she spilled trade secrets, and that was enough.
I twisted the fourth stone free, holding my breath as it came loose.
More importantly, the diamonds had to be pristine. No scratches. No evidence of my hands ever touching it.
Mom might never know what I’d done.
But Dad would, and he’d understand. He’d stand behind me like he always had.
6
MAYA
