The smellsfrom the food court made Cashmere’s stomach growl. She glanced over at her seventeen-year-old sister and noticed the pained look on her face. Cashmere knew Ivoree also felt the stomach pains.
With gritted teeth, Cashmere grabbed Ivoree’s hand and pulled her through the crowd of people.
“Don’t worry, Vee. We gonna eat soon,” Cashmere assured as she kept her eyes roaming around, trying to see what lick she could hit.
At her big ass age of twenty-four years old, she never thought she would still be using her sticky fingers to survive, but here she was. Cashmere tilted her head, and her eyes landed on the jewelry store on the level above them. With a heavy sigh, she pulled Ivoree toward the escalator.
This mall was new to them. They always were. Cashmere made it a rule that she never did her dirt in the same place twice,so she took a moment to scope the scene when they got to the second level of the mall.
“Jewelry store?” Ivoree asked.
Cashmere nodded. “We need a good come up, Sis. We pull this off, then we won’t have to do nothin’ for a cool minute.”
They’d only ever hit one other jewelry store before. It was about a year ago, and they were able to live on the money for a couple of months. Cashmere had been hesitant to do it again because the stakes were higher than a simple pick pocket or car raid, but she was tired of living day to day not knowing where they would lay their heads or how they would eat.
Ivoree looked around the busy mall hesitantly. Cashmere felt bad. Ivoree was a good girl. She got good grades, despite their circumstances, and she stayed out the way. Here Cashmere was, pulling her into bad decisions that could land them both in prison. Survival instincts were a mothafucka though. They overrode everything else, and that was the mode Cashmere had been in for years. Her whole life, really.
Her father was on drugs, and her mother was mentally unstable. Cashmere personally thought the lady had schizophrenia, but the woman never got diagnosed because she never went to the doctor.
When Cashmere was sixteen, she left home. It was her biggest regret. Poor Ivoree endured seven years alone in that house while Cashmere tried desperately to get on her feet. It wasn’t easy. Cashmere’s attitude was bad, and she got fired from every odd job she managed to get. It was a vicious cycle. Even though she still struggled financially, Ivoree needed her. All it took was one call from her baby sister crying about their daddy trying to sell her to a pimp, and Cashmere came running. That was a year ago, and though they slept on the streets more nights than in a bed, the sisters knew this was better than going back to their parents.
“I don’t know, Cash?—”
“I just need you to distract. Just like every other time,” Cashmere assured as she eyed the jewelry store.
There was only one person working, it seemed. That was good. From her standpoint, she could see two cameras. She was sure there were more.
“In and out, okay?” Ivoree asked.
Cashmere gave her a small smile. They both had the same round faces and heart-shaped lips. Ivoree was a few inches taller than her big sister and had shorter hair that just touched her shoulders. Cashmere’s natural hair reached her bra strap.
Naturally beautiful.That was what Cashmere called it, and thank God for that, because they couldn’t afford lashes, waxing, makeup, or hair appointments. Still, they looked good, even if their clothes were a bit raggedy and baggy.
“In and out. I promise,” Cashmere said.
They scoped out the store for a little while longer before they made their way inside. They had a routine. Ivoree, though she was introverted, pulled out her stellar personality and innocence and reeled people in. That gave Cashmere the opportunity to do what she did best, . . .steal.
“Hi, ma’am. I was wondering if you can help me pick out some earrings for my mother?” Ivoree said with a dazzling smile.
The lady working behind the counter eyed them wearily. Cashmere fought the urge to roll her eyes. The lady was judging them.Rightfully so.Cashmere thwarted the do-gooder voice in her head and focused.
“Please, Miss. She’s in foster care. Her mother is graduating from rehab, and she just wants to do something nice for her.”
“And you are?” the lady asked.
That pissed Cashmere off. The audacity . . .
“I’m her social worker.” Cashmere kept a smile on her face and remained cool on the inside.
Nobody in their right mind would believe Cashmere’s story, because she didn’t look like a damn social worker, but Cashmere and Ivoree were really convincing. It didn’t hurt that they had pretty privilege. It didn’t matter who it was, they were bound to fall under the Taylor sisters’ spell.
“Right over here.” The lady moved behind the counter toward the earrings.
While she got Ivoree set up with options, Cashmere took a moment to look around the store. She had a good eye for expensive things, and she found a necklace that would pawn for thousands.
“Excuse me? Can I take a look at this necklace?” Cashmere asked, gaining the employee’s attention.
When she saw which necklace Cashmere pointed at, her expression turned suspicious.
