I refuse to look at how depressing it is that I consider that a perk rather than balk at the idea. It’s not like I haven’t had to steal shit before, but whatever these guys are into is way out of my wheelhouse. I’m perfectly happy being a maid or lookout and leaving the rest to these guys, keeping my nose out of things as much as I’m able to.
Because if I see too much? Julian will never let me go. Three to five years sounds well and good, but Grave and Everett both admitted they don’t tolerate witnesses. So why would Julian let me go after I’ve had a front row seat to whatever shit he’s involved in, no matter his claims?
But as the other guys flood into the room and we all sit down to eat, laughing and joking, the knowledge doesn’t weigh me down as much as it did the day it dawned on me. Being surrounded by people that don’t completely despise me, able to genuinely smile? It’s nice. And honestly? I’m perfectly fine doing some terrible things if it means holding onto this feeling.
Agun presses into my kidney and I stiffen at the breath on the back of my neck. “You’re distracted,” Grave scolds, moving the gun to tap it against my side as he walks away.
I growl, whirling around as he blows a kiss, taunting and toying with me. How even he can keep his own moods straight is beyond me. The guy is fucked in the head, and if it ever suited him, I’m not entirely convinced he wouldn’t turn on us. But he’s damn good at what he does, though that hardly equates to blind faith in the man.
“No, you’re just a fuckin’ psycho.”
He shrugs, not denying it. “Your head’s not in the game and the client will be here any minute.” He uses the barrel of his gun to scratch along his jaw, scrunching up his forehead in contemplation. “Though, getting shot might actually work in your favor, depending on where.”
I roll my eyes. “Hell are you going on about now, G?”
He snorts. “Anyone with eyes can see the way you stalk after Elyse. The lonely wolf, not sure if he wants to eat the rabbit, or the other wolves eyeing it.”
Narrowing my eyes, I clench and unclench my fist. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
His eyes light up with a feral glint, a smirk growing on his face. “My mistake. I’ll make sure to tell her you aren’t interested while on our date tonight.”
He’s just probing for a reaction and I’m determined not to give him one. Scanning the nearly empty room, we’re stuck waiting for the client to show his face, the clock ticking by at a snail’s pace. It takes all of two minutes before I break.
“Bullshit. If you’d had a date lined up, she would have mentioned it.”
It’s been a few weeks since she came to stay with us and the worst of her wounds are nearly healed, though she still has a smattering of faded bruises. Besides those, without needing to tiptoe around that pathetic excuse for a father, constantly waiting for blows to come, she actually seems happy.
With the steady meals, she looks less starved and on the path to being a healthy weight, and there’s less terror in her eyes. We all agreed there was no point training her until she was healed up and had her feet firmly on the ground, otherwise she’d just get herself killed or be laid up even longer. But at this rate, we could probably start in on the basics this weekend.
“You’re doing it again,” Grave snickers and I internally groan, knowing he’s right and I zoned out as soon as I started thinking about her. “She doesn’t know about it yet, but I’ll be sure to update her when we get back,” he taunts, self-assured.
“What are you playing at, G?” I snarl, flipping the safety off on my gun and checking the time on my phone. “You’re the one that snatched her in the first place, and you hate people. You’ve obviously got a hard on for the girl, so why are you pushing me to make a move, huh?”
“The more the merrier, I always say,” he rambles, pacing with his boredom and restless energy, balancing a pen on his finger.
I flick it off balance, sending it clattering to the ground. Instantly, his features morph and it’s a toss-up if he’s going to stab me or move on to something else; you never really know with this guy. Still, there’s something satisfying about fucking with him when he’s being annoying as shit.
“That wasn’t very nice,” he scolds, going stock still. I brace myself, but he knows I’m just starting a fight to try and distract him and doesn’t bite. “And here I was, trying to help. You never appreciate my efforts.”
The door clicks open and our conversation grinds to a halt, switching into work mode. The client comes in, jittery, even though he’s a frequent flier. His long, black hair is tied back at the nape of his neck and his dress shirt sticks to his skin from sweat. I push all other thoughts from my mind, the man in front of me giving off a dozen red flags.
“You’re late, Michael.” Grave shakes his head in disappointment, wagging his gun at him in scolding. “And I have big plans later. Why everyone insists on being so rude today is beyond me, but I certainly hope you plan to apologize.”
Michael’s eyes widen in alarm, Grave’s reputation legendary in the circles we run, though he hasn’t dealt with him personally yet. “Traffic was killer,” he quickly lies, and I frown, not liking any of this.
Without preamble, I cross the room and pat him down, checking for a wire or weapon. “Phone?”
Michael shakes his head. “In the car, I know the rules.”
Still, something feels off and I don’t like it. “Then let’s get on with this. Money?”
Michael passes a thick envelope over and I grab the specialized marker from my pocket to double check for fake bills, counting it simultaneously. “Looks like you’re short here.” I raise an eyebrow, not even enjoying the way more sweat beads on his forehead as his heart starts sprinting.
“Yes, well, I-” he swallows, summoning a bit of courage and standing taller. “It’s only worth forty K. So that’s what I’m paying, take it or leave it.”
I share a look with Grave before we both burst into hysterical laughter, Michael shrinking into himself more with each passing second. Without warning, I wrap my hand around his throat and lift. He claws at my wrist, face turning red and feet flailing.
“Mikey,” Grave purrs, using the barrel of his weapon to run across Michael’s chest and ribs, down his spine. “Not sure what’s got your panties in a twist today, but I think you’ve forgotten how this works.” Leaning in, he whispers, “You want the pretty painting, you pay us what we ask for it. It’s really not that complicated. You don’t have the money, you don’t waste everyone’s time. I have far better things to do tonight.”
