He was our brigadier, ouravtoritet. And we were hisboyeviks, hissoldiers. And we knew in another few years he would makevor. Sayer’s eyes were on thetop. It was only a matter of time before he got there.
It was why Atticus hated him so much. Sayer had stolenAtticus’s fame and glory, making it his own and leaving Atticus in the backwith the rest of us that didn’t want to be here.
“We’ll talk about the money later,” Sayer promised. Inodded, praying he would forget all about it. I could handle my dad withouthim. I didn’t need the help nor did I want it. To the group he said, “They’reready for the hurrah. We need to hit tonight.”
Frankie leaned forward. “They want us to break intothe mayor’s house?”
Unfazed, Sayer added, “And rob him.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
“They want it cleaned out. Nothing trashed. No signsthat we’ve been there. They just want it all gone.” He rubbed the side of hisjaw. “Also, there’s a dog.”
We all shared a look. I hated dogs. Especiallystealing them.
“And what do we get out of it?” Gus asked.
“Your usual cut.”
We all winced. We were paid well, but not enough torisk breaking into the mayor of DC’s house and stealing everything of value.
Besides Sayer and Atticus, the rest of us were hereagainst our will. Gus was forced into the life by his father. Frankie demandedto be given jobs, but only so she could escape the pretty prison her uncles haddesigned for her. And I had been sucked in when I’d stolen something for Sayer.
Sometimes I hated him for that day as much as I lovedhim.
And I did love him.
I had loved him since he kissed me that same day. Hateand love always at war within me for this boy that could talk me into anything.
It was messed up. I knew that it was. But I also knewI couldn’t do anything about it. I had been trying for five years. And yet hereI was, secretly smelling the warm coat wrapped around me.
“We’ll meet at the usual spot at nine tonight,” Sayercontinued to order. “Gus and Frankie, you’ll stick with Atticus. Caro, you’rewith me.”
I ignored the I-told-you-so-look on Frankie’s face.She was convinced he loved me too.
But what she didn’t understand was that boys likeSayer and Atticus and Gus didn’t fall in love. They screwed around. A lot.Maybe they married eventually, but only to get a pair of sons. Nothing changedfor them though. They never stopped screwing around. And they really didn’t fallin love.
Just ask any of our fathers.
Gus jumped to the sidewalk. He shoved his hands intohis pocket and tugged on his knit beanie. “I got work to do then. I’m assumingthere’s security?”
“He’s on the Italian payroll,” Sayer explained. “Thebosses aren’t happy that he won’t play ball.”
“That’s why he wouldn’t take the girls last weekend?The congratulatory gift?” Atticus asked from the outskirts of our circle.
Sayer nodded. “He’s been in office for two weeks. Longenough to figure out how things work.”
Atticus shrugged, agreeing with Sayer. Meanwhile, acidreflux burned in my throat. I reasoned that if the mayor was already workingwith the Italians, he knew what he was getting into. If he’d picked a side inthe ongoing war for the underbelly of DC, then he knew there would berepercussions. He knew nothing in his life was safe or protected.
Maybe he didn’t expect Russians to hit his house twoweeks into his term. But he should have.
These people didn’t play fair.
And they sure as hell didn’t play nice.
We’d been working on this job for a lot longer thanhis term. We’d known who was going to win the election long before it hadactually taken place. Last summer, we’d all been given our roles. Gus hadgotten a job at his landscapers and mowed the yard every week. Atticus hadvolunteered at his campaign office. Frankie and I had gotten to know hisdaughter by hanging out at the pool where her and her friends always went. AndSayer had run point. We knew the ins and outs of his life. We knew when he’d behome and when he’d be gone. And we knew the layout of his house.
It would be a clean hit. We’d get in. We’d get out.We’d take everything from him, even his dog, sending a clear message toreconsider his allegiances. From there, his circumstances would get progressivelyworse until he complied.
