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I frowned, gazing at my target. “I was going to quit, you know.”
“They all say that.”
“Do you want me to start picking at skeletons in your closet? ‘Cause seriously, I’ve got the time right now. Did we go over how we’re committing a felony?”
He grunted. “We’ve got a good reason.”
I scoffed and clenched my fists. Forget about the target. I was about to pounce Brandon. “Are you saying my reasons weren’t good enough?”
He turned fully now, squaring off his shoulders at me. “I’m saying if you are really as smart as all that, you’d have found another way.”
“I tried,” I said. “I did everything I could. I applied everywhere.”
“Everywhere?” he asked, his cerulean eyes lit up. “Really?”
I pointed a fist at his face. I spoke low and through my teeth to make sure no one else was listening in. “Listen, buddy. I’ve got a little brother I’m trying to get into college. I’ve got a drunk father who steals our money or beats us if we don’t have any, so he can drink it at the bar and pay for women. We tried to leave and he called the cops on Wil, and they brought him back. They didn’t care. Social services didn’t care. They just wanted us out of their hair. I can’t leave Wil until he can safely leave on his own, and I’m not about to be sorry for doing whatever I have to do to make sure he gets a better life than me. Not like you could ever understand that. You’ve got a fancy apartment, and friends, and food in the fridge, and a new car.”
“I earned those,” he said.
“I’m trying to earn my way,” I said. I held my hands out, palms up, flustered. Tears bit at the sides of my eyelids, but I silently threatened them with a thousand deaths if they dared start to fall. I wanted to spit back a thousand reasons why I did what I did, but even despite myself, I knew myself better than that. Deep down inside, I wondered, too, if there was anything I could have done, any different path I could have taken, to change who I was and what had happened to us. Could I have saved mom? Could I have stopped Jack from destroying himself? Could I have fought harder? Worked harder? Begged more?
We glared each other down. Why did it matter to me what he thought? If this had been anyone else, I would have walked away. What did I care as long as Wil and I were okay? What anyone else thought didn’t matter.
Except it did just now. It did with Brandon. Maybe it was those sad eyes, penetrating through my body and magnifying every thread of self-doubt I’d ever conceived about my actions. It was like he was trying desperately to understand me, just like I needed him to believe I wasn’t just an idiot, greedy girl.
I bit back the tears and forced the words out, cool and slow. “If it were up to me, my mother wouldn’t have died, my father would be the way he was before she did, and I wouldn’t need to be here right now. When I finally get a chance, I’ll work my tail off and dump a ton of money on charity, and help whoever I can to make up for every penny I’ve ever stolen. And, believe me, I know every cent. I feel it every time. Now look me in the eyes again and tell me you’ve ever fought that hard for anything.”
He lowered his body at the waist, until his face was level with mine. “I did,” he said, but his voice was a tone softer now, and it threw me off, curbing the anger that had my fists ready to sail. “I’ve got a brother, too, you know. And if I ever needed to steal, or fight, or suffer to make sure he’s safe, I’d do it. And believe me, I have.”
I blinked hard, jerking my head back. “But... you... You just told me I should have worked harder.”
“I just wanted to hear it from your lips that you knew what you were doing was wrong.” He straightened himself again. “I think you could have done better, but I understand why you did what you did when you felt cornered. I do sympathize, but I wasn’t about to stand by and let you lie to me, or yourself, about what you’ve done like some misunderstood hero. I won’t lie to you Kayli. We’re about to steal a wallet from a man who might have powerful allies, and break into a building that doesn’t belong to us. We put our lives at risk to save others, but we can’t ever forget exactly where we stand. In the shadows. Inside secrets that can rip us apart. If we’re not honest with each other, this won’t work. We’ll become as bad as the guys we fight against.”
My breathing slowed and my heart stilled. Somehow the party had disappeared around us. Brandon’s eyes were swallowing me up, telling me things I wasn’t sure I was supposed to know. “I didn’t mean to lie,” I said in a quiet voice.
“Don’t feel too bad,” he said. He turned again, focusing on the partygoers. “Sometimes you tell yourself a lie so much, you start to believe it. Sometimes when you’re in the middle of shit, you need a lie to keep you sane until you can get out again.”
I swallowed hard, and side-stepped into his shadow to block my face from everyone else around us. “I wasn’t trying to... I didn’t ...” After being so angry, and suddenly not, I was shaking. What was I doing here? Who was I? Somehow he had me questioning everything. Despite him being near me and the party around us, I felt a million miles away from everyone. I was the thief among the crowd. I was the bad apple in the orchard. I trembled, feeling lost.
He glanced back down at me and sighed. His hands slid up, catching my elbows. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I need to learn to shut up. I shouldn’t have started talking about this. Not now.”
“You should have left me at the mall,” I said, staring blankly at his red tie.
He grunted, and suddenly his arms encircled me, drawing me close. He swayed gently with the music. He was pretending to dance with me. That didn’t matter to me as much, but his strong arms across my shoulders were suddenly everything I needed, that I never knew I needed.
“I meant you were probably safer there,” he said. “You were probably right all along. This is dangerous and you don’t even know. We know and we choose to be here. You were bribed and still don’t know. I don’t like that.”
I clutched at the breast pocket material of his shirt. “I don’t know who you are,” I said. “I don’t know who exactly you work for. I want to believe this is the right thing. Tell me I’m not making a huge mistake.”
“I can’t promise that,” he said, his hands sliding across my back in a soothing motion. “Because I feel like we’re making a big mistake letting you in this close. But I can tell you that this guy could be a bad guy, and we could possibly be stopping him from making a big mistake if that’s what he’s planning. Or he could have been bad all along and we’re just now catching on. If that’s the case, we’re all in trouble. But if we get out of this without getting caught, I’ll do everything I can to make sure we keep our promise to you. Because I know exactly how hard you’ll work to save your brother. I probably would have done the same thing. Actually I have, just in a different way.”
I tightened my face, afraid I’d cry. I was already worried I was ruining my mascara. I sucked in a deep breath, and then pulled myself away. I wanted to sink into him more, but I wouldn’t allow it. “This is the worst pep talk I’ve ever had.”
Brandon released a forced chuckle. He touched at the knot of his tie. “Sorry. Corey’s always telling me I scare girlfriends off by talking too deep. I didn’t mean to make you cry.”
“I’m not crying.” I stuffed an arm against his chest in a faux punch that lacked any effort. “Just shut up and let me do my job. You can talk to me later.”
“You’ll talk to me after this?”
I rolled my eyes, and didn’t answer. The truth was, I didn’t have one. I wondered about that, too. More than one of them had mentioned that if I wanted, I didn’t have to see them again after this. They weren’t bad people. If everything was true, and I was starting to believe it was, I wouldn’t want to just forget a group of people who helped me so much. Whatever weird fate had thrown us together, it seemed cruel that this job would end and that might be the last I ever saw of them.
Would they disappear again and never want to talk to me? Did that matter to me?
> Despite our conversation, the party went on around us without noticing our little spat, but I wasn’t as nervous as I was before. When I zeroed in on my target again, he was still by the buffet table. Women seemed to flock over to him. They hovered around him in a circle. A couple of men came along at one point, escorting certain ladies away. I understood they were probably husbands and boyfriends dragging their girls away from Mr. Coaltar. He must have hundred dollar bills hanging out of his nose. I still couldn’t see his face.
But I could see the bulge in his back pocket. Bingo.
A waiter trailed past us with champagne flutes. I picked one up, coming up with an idea.
“I said no more drinking,” Brandon said.
“I’m not going to drink it.” I gestured to our target. I sunk my hand into Brandon’s back pocket, pulling out the fake wallet and planting it in my palm, pressing it against my thigh. “I’m ready. Let’s go.”
Brandon glanced at me once more, and then backed off, heading through the throng of people, angling himself as we’d practiced earlier. He’d walk right behind my back at just the right time so I could pass off a wallet.
Time slowed for me again. It was different though. The guilt-ridden thoughts were gone. I was doing this man the biggest favor by clearing his name or doing Charleston a favor by getting rid of a potential drug cartel. Win-win, right?
I focused on the bulge in his back pocket. I held on to the flute in my hand, ready with a new distraction.
I walked steadily as if I were going to pass him and head to the food buffet. The food buffet alone was enough of a distraction. I bit my tongue to concentrate.
Fake stumble.
Bump.
Hand drop.
I held the flute sideways to spill at the top of the pink dress, causing a wet stain. I dropped the glass to free up my hand.
I lifted the wallet, and halfway out, started dropping the new one back in.
I started in on batting my eyelashes right as he started to turn. “Oh,” I breathed in the softest voice. “Sorry. I didn’t mean...”
There was a commotion all at once. Two attendants flew in, offering me a napkin and picking up the dropped flute.
I couldn’t turn back to look as it would be too distracting, but someone lifted the wallet from my hand. I could only hope it was Brandon. I sensed him walking away. He would head out to pass it off to someone else, giving me time to collect myself and look natural when I went searching for him.
