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When things got this bad, he never offered to give us money or help us out. Jason just came along for the thrill of the ride. He was there for the adrenaline rush, and after we were done, he’d go back to his family’s estate and get his housekeeper to make him a damn sandwich while Ali and I counted coins.
“You ready, drama queen?” Jason teased, his eyes alight and the smile on his face so wide it seemed almost painful.
This shit gave him life.
Hurting people and ripping them off was like his own personal addiction. While I loathed it with every part of my being, even more so because I knew I was fucking good at it.
“Don’t call me that,” I spat at him as I crouched down and placed my hands on the rough asphalt parking lot. I swallowed hard and held my breath as I scraped them across the gritty surface, fighting the urge to pull away as the tiny, jagged stones broke through my skin. Usually, I wouldn’t put in this much effort, but a little pain now was nothing compared to what I would feel later if we didn’t find the money we needed for me to get some sleep.
Jason loudly whistled when I got to my feet, shaking his head. “Don’t call you drama queen?” he chuckled. “I don’t know many people willing to make themselves bleed just to get a hit.”
His eyes drifted to my palms, but I refused to look down at them. I felt the blood pooling at the surface of my torn skin.
“Can we just do this already?” I sneered, turning my attention to Ali, who always refused to step in when Jason and I clashed.
He looked over at the target and nodded. “She’s just getting in the car,” Ali announced, his brow knotting between his eyes. “You’re on.”
“And, action, drama queen!” Jason taunted before the boys rushed off, disappearing through the line of cars while I jogged toward the old lady in the BMW. It still looked brand new and well looked after but was old enough that it didn’t have a rearview camera, which would work far better in my favor.
My palms were aching, throbbing in time with my heartbeat, though the pain still wasn’t quite registering yet, thanks to that amazing thing called adrenaline. I slowed slightly, seeing her reversing lights brighten.
My timing had to be perfect.
So did my acting.
Everything relied on my ability to keep the driver’s attention on the back of the car by any means necessary while Ali and Jason snatched whatever they could from inside—handbags, credit cards, cash, cell phones, whatever could be worth a little something.
It was a con we’d been pulling for months.
If everything went well, it would take less than thirty seconds.
Just thirty seconds, that’s all I needed. Keep her attention, then when she turned away, run.
I held my breath as the car began to move and curled my hand into a fist before slamming it hard on the trunk and letting out a loud scream. The car jerked to an instant stop, and I dropped to my knees, holding my torn-up hands out in front of me and biting the side of my tongue so tears would spring to my eyes.
“Oh my Lord,” a soft voice gasped, and I looked up to see the elderly lady standing at the rear of her car, her hand covering her mouth. “Oh my goodness, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry!”
I forced out a sob. “It hurts,” I cried softly, looking down at my hands.
The damage I’d done wasn’t too extensive, but it would sting for days.
She began to turn back toward the car, and my heart leaped into my throat. “I’ll call an ambulance.”
“No,” I cried, halting her in her tracks.
Hold her there.
Just thirty seconds.
Hold her attention.
“You hit me on purpose!” I sobbed, tears streaking down my cheeks. “I wasn’t doing anything wrong. Why would you run me over?”
“I didn’t… I wasn’t…”
“I’m just a kid!”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…” the woman started, though the words quickly faded away, and the shock in her face contorted more into confusion. “I’m… sor…” she mumbled, taking a step forward, then another. The second was less steady, though, and she stumbled backward into the rear of her car, using it to keep her on her feet.
