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GENEVIEVE
After I shower and wash my hair—four times—I feel more human. There are some bags on my bed when I get back to my room, so I quickly dress in the warm clothing inside them, adding thick fluffy socks to my feet. I tell myself I’ll only lie down for a bit, but I end up falling asleep. When I wake, it’s dark, and after using the bathroom, I pad downstairs. Gage and Booker are watching football, while Archer and Eric sit at the table, so I head their way, leaning over and raising my eyebrow at the digital blueprints before them.
“What’s this?” I ask.
Archer hesitates before sitting back and watching me carefully. “Our next job. We just got a tip about it. Something very precious and expensive is being moved tonight. We won’t get another chance at it.”
I freeze. I know they are thieves, but knowing it and seeing it are two different things. They watch me carefully, and even the TV is muted. “What is it?”
“Are you sure you want to know?” he asks seriously. I debate it before nodding and sitting down. “It’s a painting. Usually, we steal to sell, but every now and again, we accept a contract.”
“A painting?” I query in surprise, expecting jewels and riches.
“One worth billions.” He grins, and I blink. When I don’t say anything, he carries on. “The person who currently…holds the painting bought it at auction for his summer home.” The sneer in his words is obvious. “The person who hired us, who wants it back… It was originally theirs.”
“Wait, someone stole their family’s painting and you’re stealing it back? Surely the billionaire would pay more for you not to.” I’m careful in what I say, but I truly need to know.
“He would, but we don’t want his money. Not everything we do is for money, Genevieve. Sometimes, we use our skills for good. The painting was taken during World War II, and then it was sold and kept being sold. When the family finally tracked it down and showed evidence that their great-grandfather had painted it and left it to his family, it didn’t matter. The billionaire sued them until they had no choice but to shut up. Nobody believed them.”
“Except us,” Eric murmurs. “I’m not saying we don’t steal for the fun of it. The job we had before you, we broke into a bank in Switzerland just to see if we could.” He grins at his statement, and it makes me laugh. “They can’t pay us much for this, but it’s a matter of principle. Another rich bastard got his way with something he doesn’t even care about. He just wants to possess it. For them, it’s a family heirloom, one of the only images of their great-grandmother they have. So we’ll steal it.”
“Tonight?” I ask, looking between them. “When do you leave?”
“In an hour,” Archer answers, smiling at me as if I’ve passed some kind of test.
“Good.” Standing, I push back my hair. “Let me get dressed.” As I turn away, a hand grabs mine.
“Dressed?” Eric queries, frowning.
I look back at them with a wink. “You didn’t think you were leaving me here, did you?”
* * *
After much arguing, the only way they would let me come was if I stayed in the car with Booker, who is the getaway driver for the night. I sit up front with him, watching the building with shrewd, curious eyes. It’s being moved from a storage facility. The bastard actually had it in a storage facility, like it was old clothing or something and not a billion-pound painting, but the security makes me swallow hard. With an armoured truck and security guards, the rich bastard, as they call him, is taking no chances. It worries me, but Eric leans over and kisses my cheek.
“We’ve got this, baby. We’re professionals, remember?”
“Is that why you raided my knicker drawer?” I mutter, making them laugh as I turn to see them in the back. Gage checks his gun, and he sees me watching, but he remains silent. Archer pulls out a bag and passes out masks. Gage holds my gaze as he pulls it down. The mask lights up with a mocking, laughing face the moment it’s in place. Eric’s is a side smile with crosses for eyes. Archer hands me one, and I raise my eyebrows.
“Love, you are all over the news. We aren’t taking any risks. Wear it and be good, okay?” Eric commands.
I nod and slip it on my head, pulling it down over my face. It’s easy to see and breathe through, thank God. Booker slides one on too, and the car lights up from within, the masks like mocking grins as they look at each other.
We wait until the truck drops off the painting and leaves, and then it’s go time. Nerves fill me, but I stay quiet, letting them handle it.
“Let’s do this,” Eric states and slips from the car. Gage slaps Booker’s shoulder. Booker nods, and then they are gone into the night.
I turn back to the front of the car, discreetly sitting up to check out my mask, laughing when I see it.
At the top corner is a little crown, the mask done in pink with wide eyes and grinning lips. It’s a fucking princess mask. It’s strange, since they didn’t plan for me to come, but they sure did get this one quick…unless it was Gage’s. Yep, that’s what I’m going with. Still, I settle down and watch, nervously scanning the area like we are going to get caught. Booker is the total opposite, calm as hell as he nods along to an invisible beat. I can’t take it anymore, so I turn to him.
“Okay, so what’s the plan?” I ask. “How are they doing it?”
“Archer has already hacked their security feed and is looping it, so they won’t see us. Gage is going in the backdoor, Eric the side, and Archer the front. They know the shifts and positions of the guards. They will knock them out, get the painting, and be back out before anyone can trigger the silent alarm. Easy.”
“Easy,” I scoff, but within ten minutes, they are back. They carefully place the painting in the boot and pour inside, their masks in place. Honestly, watching them run towards me had my heart racing with adrenaline.
Watching them work? Sexy as hell.
“Let’s go,” Archer orders, and Booker steps on it. “That was too fucking easy.” He laughs.
As we speed past the open warehouse, I gawk. There are rows upon rows of paintings, sculptures, and statues all just collecting dust. It’s unused and collected for the sake of it. l might not always agree with what they do, but tonight?
You bet I fucking do.
They are right—he’s a proper asshole who just wants to possess everything for the status it brings him, not because it brings him happiness. It’s spending for the sake of it and taking beauty from the world. I’m not saying they are good guys, but tonight, they don’t really feel like the villains.
More like liberators, with their other stolen trophy helping them.
