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Hearing his words, my throat tightened.
“And if we got it, what would you do with it?” I asked, not sure where this was going.
He smirked, locking his gaze onto mine. “Who doesn’t like rugs?”
I chuckled, unsure if he was serious. We had grown up mafia men, possessive and relentless. But there was always honor amongst the cruelty. So, was what my childhood friend had said a joke? Or was he introducing me to a side of him that I didn’t want to know?
As much as I found his proposition absurd, there was a part of me that admired his audacity. More than that, there was a fire in his eyes that lured me from my drama-filled world.
“Alright then. I’m in,” I said finally.
The surprise on Lucien’s face was priceless. I wasn’t sure what he was expecting me to say, but staring back at me, he beamed.
Reading everything Lucien’s smile suggested, I thought again about what I had agreed to do. I was about to help my friend steal a tiger from a dangerous mob boss. Then, if we survived that, I had to convince him to give the beast to a zoo instead of hanging its head from his wall. None of this would be easy.
Listening to Lucien outline his plan, my heart thumped. This wasn’t a joke he had come up with on the fly. He was deadly serious. Not only did he know the building’s layout but he had memorized every door and alarm.
Had he worked here to gather intel? Because Lucien was prepared. And all I had to do was follow his lead and help push the cage when the time came.
Slipping into the warehouse’s back corridors, Lucien’s plan unfurled like a growing mist. We stealthily hugged walls and slipped beneath intricate alarms. Exiting a window, we threw ourselves onto a balcony that appeared too far away. Having lived a lifetime of heart-pounding moments, this had to top them all.
Back inside and drowning in adrenaline, Lucien’s plan had worked. That is until a single misstep sounded an alarm. We froze, our heartbeats echoing into the vast looming dread. My mind spun in overdrive. Were we caught? The seconds ticked away into eternity before the alarm suddenly cut off.
Lucien breathed a sigh of relief, a half-smile playing on his face. I simply shook my head, my stomach clenching from tension. This recklessness, this wavering between life and death felt agonizingly familiar. And if I knew anything about times like these, I knew that the danger had only just begun.
It took only seconds to be proven right. As we descended the halls, a large man dressed in a cheap tuxedo turned the corner headed directly for us. He had come to investigate the alarm and as his jacket swished beside him, I saw that he was armed.
Before I could react, Lucien responded full of charm. Speaking in French, he weaved an elaborate story of paperwork mix-ups and absent delivery guys. He went as far as to produce an ID to prove his claims. It was an impressive performance.
The security man reassured yet annoyed that we hadn’t followed the dress code, asked for my ID to confirm our story. Opening my mouth to speak, Lucien cut me off.
“Oh, he’s my new guy. No ID for him yet. Fresh meat. Eager but doesn’t know his left from his right.”
His charm and glowing smile eventually disarmed the security man entirely. By the time Lucien was done with him, he was escorting us to the tiger. It took everything in me to not smile as I followed behind.
When more confusion arose standing in front of the man guarding the cage, Lucien handled that too. In the end, it was the security man who insisted the guard relinquish the tiger to us. It was a work of art.
Laughing as we wheeled the cage down the dim hallway, I said, “That was easier than getting into American clubs when we were kids.”
“It helps when we both look like our balls have dropped,” Lucien replied accusingly. “But don’t jinx this, Remy. We’re not done,” he said, his focus unbroken.
“By the way, how do you plan to get this giant furball out of here? The Métro?”
He smirked and then pointed ahead of us towards a nondescript van in the parking lot.
“Great. Is that yours or are we stealing that too?” I asked confused.
Without a word, Lucien circled the van as we approached and popped open the back doors. Lowering metal slants, he stared at me waiting for me to do my part.
“So, you brought me as muscle?” I joked.
“I didn’t bring you for your brains,” Lucien quipped.
“Bastard.”
“American.”
“How dare you?” I demanded, my eyes squinting ready to fight.
