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Chapter One
Charlee
I crouch behind the cracked door, the only light in the room coming from the moonlight pouring in through the window. I remain perfectly still, silent in my hiding spot as I wait for the right time. My shoulders are starting to get cramped and I can feel the pins and needles starting in my toes but I remain motionless. It’s almost time.
This is my favorite part of a heist. The quiet moments right before you strike. Your body readies itself, the adrenaline flooding your system as your muscles tense, getting ready. You become focused on the task in front of you, your heart beating faster in your chest. Dum-dum, dum-dum, dum-dum.
I shift as I see the shadow pass by the door. I rise from my crouch, silently moving out from behind the door. I lean against the other wall, peeking out through the crack to make sure that the coast is clear before I slowly swing the door open wider. I take precise steps, staying on the balls of my feet and walking on the Persian rug to help muffle my footsteps. I make my way down the hallway to the room at the end, slipping inside before I can be seen.
I work quickly now. I’m in the master bedroom of some rich guy’s house and I head over to the walk-in closet, pulling out my bag as I go. I walk into the closet and past the rows of clothes and the shelves of shoes to the jewelry section. I hurriedly pull out drawer after drawer, dumping the contents into my bag. In falls diamond necklaces and ruby earrings. There’s emeralds and sapphires and oh, look, more diamonds.
I empty all of the drawers, double checking that I didn’t miss anything before I creep back towards the bedroom door. I press my ear to the door and curse quietly under my breath when I hear someone coming. I guess that means I’m going with my second exit plan.
I spin on my heel, heading across the room to the double doors. They lead out to a balcony where I’ll be able to climb down from the side of the house. This is my backup plan because of a reason though and as I close the balcony doors, I look down to see that it’s farther down than I thought. It was hard to do surveillance on this house since it butts up to another property. Too many eyes to be sneaking around or taking pictures.
This is going to suck.
I swing my legs over the side of the railing, stepping down onto the ledge. I take a deep breath before I push off, immediately rolling my body to try to ease my fall. I grunt as I finally stop rolling and I push myself up quickly before sprinting around the backyard. I keep out of the surveillance camera’s view and pick my way around to the front where the dark van is waiting. I shove my hands into my pockets, trying to blend in as I make my way over to the van.
I blend in easily. I have mousy brown hair, currently braided and hanging halfway down my back. My plain brown hair and average height only help me to become invisible. My looks would probably be upsetting to most girls but I love it. I’ve never wanted attention and ever since I became a thief, it’s only helped me further. People don’t remember the plain girl standing in the corner.
I open the back door of the van, climbing inside and tossing the bag to Rolo. Bolt is behind the wheel and he hoots when Rolo opens the bag and he sees everything inside. He slaps the steering wheel before he cranks the engine and pulls away from the curb.
“Good work, Charlee.” Tommy says from the passenger seat as we make our way back to the shop.
The other guys nod and Rolo leans over, slapping my shoulder. “Yeah, Charlee. Pops will be happy.” He says with a grin.
I give him a forced smile in return before I settle into the back of the van. I’ve been a thief for as long as I can remember. Growing up on the streets with my mom didn’t leave me many options and I learned early on that I was good at sneaking in and out of places. We rarely had a place to call home, living with boyfriends or more likely, my mother’s pimps, or in cheap motels.
My mother was never much of a parent. She was more focused on getting her next fix to worry about looking after a kid. She overdosed when I was twelve and I’ve been in and out of foster homes ever since. I’ve never met a foster family or group home that I liked though so I ended up spending most of my time on the streets.
I used to do little jobs by myself. Pick pockets or run the old smash and dash if I was desperate. It’s a hard way to live though, so a couple of weeks ago I joined this new crew. The crew is me and four other guys. They’ve all been together for a couple of years now and that makes me the odd man out. The group is good though and they run like a well-oiled machine.
Pops is supposed to be the mastermind and he sets up all of the jobs. He’s an older man, probably in his late fifties with salt and pepper hair. He was probably a looker when he was younger, but he’s let himself go in the last couple of years and now he’s sporting a beer belly and his hair is starting to thin.
Evan “Bolt” Bolterain is the getaway driver. He’s got an athletic build with dirty blonde hair and dark brown eyes. He’s always sporting a couple days old beard and the same pair of ray ban sunglasses. He’s quiet and keeps to himself and I probably like him the most out of the group.
Tommy is the muscle and he’s probably exactly what you’re imagining when you think muscle. He’s got a buzz cut and always wears black wife beaters. He’s the second oldest of the group and is probably in his late thirties.
Finally, Rolo is on tech. He’s the youngest of the four and only two years older than me at 24. He’s the typical computer nerd. He’s got brown hair and brown eyes and he’s thin, like me, but whereas I’m 5’4”, he’s 6’2”. He wears wire rimmed glasses and he constantly has his face buried in a computer screen.
Me? I’m the one who sneaks in. I can break into just about everything and I’m small enough to move around without drawing attention. The crew is pretty small, with just the five of us but, it’s still better than being by myself.
Or so I thought.
They’ve been having me do little jobs, like break in and steal jewelry, but that’s about it. They’re keeping me out, planning other jobs and keeping everything close to the vest. They don’t trust me and I can’t really blame them; I don’t trust them either. I know that they would screw me over in a heartbeat which is bad but even more dangerous since they’re also giving me the most dangerous parts. I’m always the one going in with the highest risk of being caught or arrested. Which sucks because I’m taking all of the risk for a fifth of the profit. I can tell that they see me as expendable and I know that I’ll have to move on soon. Los Angeles is getting played out anyway.
I’ve been saving up money for a while. I just need one more big job and that should put me over. I can pack up and move on, find someplace new and go straight. It’s hard to picture myself as a secretary or waitress but it would be safer than my current line of work. Probably less lonely too, I think as I stare out the van window at the smoggy sky.
I sigh as I lean back and we head towards the warehouse. Since we did a job today, we’ll all have to sleep at the warehouse tonight and I have my backpack and little sleeping bag already stashed there. Pops always makes us sleep there after we do a job so that we can split up the take and make sure that we weren’t followed.
Bolt steers us into the narrow side street next to the building and we all hop out, carrying in the bag of loot. We go in the side door, letting it bang shut behind us before Tommy bolts it shut, locking us inside.
I sigh as I think about spending a night locked in here with these guys but I know I don’t have a choice. I make my way over to the corner where my stuff is hidden as the guys dump the jewels on the card table. I know they’ll sell them and give me my cut in a couple of days. I just have to stick around until then.
