The Job (Auctioned)

by Cara Dee

  Either way, they were paying for this themselves? That was insane.

  “Then we’ll split the profit,” I decided. “Trust, there’ll be plenty.”

  But Darius shook his head. “I appreciate it, but we’re not doing this for money. We just wanna wash our hands of everything once it’s over.”

  I hummed. I wouldn’t push it—for now.

  Mom came out with beers, juice boxes, and condiments, and she said she was ready to put the fries in the fryer. The garlic bread needed another five minutes in the oven.

  “Are you double-frying them?” Darius asked.

  Mom patted his cheek. “Of course I am. I wouldn’t forget your favorite, dear.”

  Darius grinned. “It’s good to be back in Vegas.”

  It was good to have him here. We usually had our reunions in their neck of the woods—literally, trees fuckin’ everywhere—so it’d been a while since they were in Vegas.

  Once Mom was out of earshot again, I asked my last question.

  “So what do you want from us while y’all are here? Do we just wait by the phone?”

  “Pretty much,” he said with a nod. “You’ve already done a great job, Casey. Stand by and wait. Have the photocopies ready just in case.” He didn’t need to remind me of those. “Be ready on a couple minutes’ notice. I can’t guarantee you’ll have a lot of time to prepare, so pack whatever you need beforehand.”

  “No problem.” We could keep everything we needed in Boone’s truck. I twisted the caps off two beers and handed him one. “To family, then. May you and your crew crush the enemy like bugs.”

  “I’ll drink to that.” He clinked his bottle to mine before taking a swig. “So what’s this shit I heard from Ma about you two shacking up as a couple? When I called you a few weeks ago, you weren’t even on speaking terms.”

  I exchanged a smirk with Boone. “This job happened, I guess.”

  Sixteen

  Case knocked on the bathroom door. “Bro. It’s been half an hour. That’s how you get hemorrhoids.”

  “Almost done,” I murmured absently, scrolling on my phone.

  Living in a small trailer with a brother who had complete control of our technology and thought the cops would burst in at the most insignificant Google search had resulted in me sitting here. Secret research on my phone while I was on the shitter. Thank fuck our job was almost over and Case could let go of his paranoia soon.

  Although, I kinda wanted to keep this secret a while longer.

  So I kept scrolling the local real estate listings. I wanted to get prepared. I wanted to see what was out there and start planning for how I could give Case a home he’d love. Starting with property close to nature. He didn’t belong smack-dab in the middle of town, even though I knew he wanted to remain somewhat close. But I knew my brother. He needed peace and quiet more than a bustling nightlife.

  He needed a place where he could shut out the world, and it was exactly what I craved too.

  “You have two hours, starting right now.” Darius’s voice was strained and rough, and it shot adrenaline straight through me. “Clean him out—I don’t care—but the Feds will show up as soon as you’re outta there, and it can’t look like he’s been robbed. Bring the photocopies and remove the transmitter!” He hung up the phone without another word, and I yanked the cord to the toaster out of the outlet before my Pop-Tarts were ready. Quicker than arguing with a button that didn’t always obey me.

  “Boone!” I yelled, setting a timer on my phone. “It’s go-time!”

  What a goddamn week this had been. A week and some changes, even.

  For the next couple minutes, Boone and I stumbled around the trailer as we changed clothes, put on the too-big shoes, and gathered our gear. Then we stormed out of there and aimed for his truck. It’d been parked right outside our home for days, just waiting for this moment.

  So had my mix CD that I’d prepared.

  The glare Boone gave me when he turned the ignition and the music started blaring was quite fucking impressive.

  I just felt we needed something that gave us energy, and Vengaboys’s “Boom, Boom, Boom, Boom!!” was a great candidate.

  “Are you for real?” he snapped over the music.

  “I love you too!” I hollered.

  He rolled his eyes and tore outta there.

  I bobbed my head to the beat and patted my side pockets, making sure I had everything. Few things had been accomplished this week, aside from providing Willow with minor updates, but we’d managed to secure an easier entrance to AJ’s estate this time. In exchange for a thousand bucks, Boone’s buddy Jay had divulged the passcode to shut off the alarm. Because suddenly we could spend that kind of money and didn’t have to rely on others to do the job.

  “Did you attach the fake plates?” he asked.

  “You know I did.” I nodded. It was only a precaution. Fake license plates and a whole lot of dirt on the truck. We’d taken it out for a spin in the desert when we’d burned the evidence of everything we’d been up to this past month. Now the truck looked like it’d just spent a decade in the wilderness. Mud and dust—mostly dust—covered the sides, back, and front. To be honest, I wasn’t sure the fake plates were even visible.

  We made our way across town and toward Summerlin, and I got ready on the way. We would have the cover of darkness to shield us this time around, so I wasn’t even nervous.

  We ended up repeating every step. We parked near the cul-de-sac on AJ’s street, we put on gloves, we brought our gear, we went around the back and up along the edge of the infinity pool, and—that’s where it stopped. Because I finally got to do what an open window prevented me from doing last time. I got to break in to the double-cylinder deadbolt on AJ’s terrace.

  It took me twenty minutes, but it was worth it.

  As soon as the alarm was disconnected, Boone retrieved two empty duffels from my backpack. We had more in his bag if needed.

  “Let’s shop.”

  “Fuck yeah.” High on adrenaline and excitement, I yanked him in for a quick, hard kiss.

  It left him with that dopey grin I was so fucking in love with.

  “You start down here. I’ll head upstairs.” I checked the timer on my phone. “We have forty-five minutes.” It would give us a fifteen-minute window to put as much distance between ourselves and this place before the pigs arrived.

  First order of business, I removed the transmitter from the chair in AJ’s study, and then I opened the bottom drawer in his desk and checked if the pictures of trafficking victims were still there.

  They weren’t. How goddamn convenient for AJ. But the sick motherfucker wouldn’t get away that easily. I planted the photocopies to replace the missing pictures before closing the drawer again.

  “Now. Finally.” I opened the other drawers and quickly pocketed all the crumpled bills I could find. How I’d waited for this moment.

  The rare, first-edition books on the shelves behind me weren’t at the top of the list of priorities, so I went to AJ’s bedroom next. Or, to be precise, his walk-in closet.

  I came to an abrupt stop in the doorway when I spotted the wall safe. It was fucking open. There were also two briefcases below the safe, and I got the sneaking suspicion that someone had been in a hurry.

  I flicked on the light and went down on one knee. The locks on the briefcases just needed some brute force, so I let out a sharp whistle. Boone could handle those. Instead, I straightened again and opened the wall safe farther.

  “Fuck me sideways,” I mumbled. Three shelves were full of cash bundles, velvet pouches, poker chips, and binders. It took me ten seconds to get bored with the binders. I was sure AJ’s stocks and bonds were worth a shitload, but it was nothing I could get my hands on.

  How the hell did I decide what should be left behind? Make sure no one could tell the place had been robbed was the rule. The binders were staying, obviously. But opening one of the velvet pouches, I asked myself, how many diamonds had to stay here?

 
Boone joined me, a little winded, and asked what was up.

  “Well, there’ve been additions since last time.” I gestured to the briefcases and held up a couple pouches.

  He got started right away and used a crowbar to open the briefcases.

  The first popped open with a strained thud, and my eyes bugged out.

  “Jesus,” Boone whispered.

  He opened the second too.

  “Holy fuck, I’m gonna shit myself,” I breathed. There had to be two million dollars there. I squatted down and flipped through one cash bundle. All hundred-dollar bills.

  “If you tell me we gotta leave this behind, I will shoot your balls off, and I’m a fan of those,” he told me.

  “Fuck no! We’re bringing them both.” I opened my duffel and stacked the briefcases inside. “Let’s hurry. We can scream like girls at a Backstreet Boys concert when we’re outta here.”

  “I just might, bro.”

  “I can guarantee I will.” I almost wanted to fan my face. I felt a little sweaty. My heart pounded so fast that it was more like an incessant whooshing sound. “Okay, so we’ll leave a handful of cash bundles and one pouch of diamonds. Maybe some poker chips too.”

  He nodded firmly, moving on to the watch collection while I emptied the safe. The watches were laid out on a lit-up display that ejected from under the rack where AJ kept his ties.

  “Do we take ’em all?” he asked.

  “Take the most valuable ones,” I replied. “Leave a third.”

  I chewed on my lip, thinking. The cash and diamonds—even the poker chips—wouldn’t be an issue at all. The watches, however… The investigators would eventually run across receipts or insurance papers for those. That was how valuable some of the pieces were. But what could they do about it? And hell, for all we knew, AJ had come across them illegally too. We didn’t know. And I couldn’t imagine that the Feds would spend manpower on dead ends about expensive watches when they were drowning in cases of missing persons and the collapse of a human trafficking ring.

  “How much time is left?” Boone asked.

  I checked my phone. “Twenty-four minutes. I’ll go check the guest rooms.”

  I didn’t expect much in there, but I did get one nice surprise. AJ’s mother had been staying here, and the small jewelry case she’d left in the guest bathroom was packed with goodies. I bagged an amethyst-and-diamond necklace, several pairs of earrings, two diamond bracelets, rings with rubies, emeralds, and sapphires, and a couple brooches. Rose gold, yellow gold, white gold, this woman wasn’t fucking around with gaudy bling.

  When all was said and done, Boone and I walked out of AJ’s estate with four heavy duffel bags—and the two backpacks on our backs—and we didn’t say a word. Tension had flooded us the moment I’d reactivated the alarm and relocked the patio door. Stiff as boards, we stalked toward the edge of the backyard, where I crossed the pool corner first. Then he slung the bags my way, and I dropped them carefully on the ground below.

  It wasn’t over until the fat lady sang and all that.

  I knew we were thinking the same things. What if we got caught now, with one foot on the finish line? What if we’d forgotten something in the house that would lead the authorities to us? What if, what if, what if?

  It took a while for ghosts like that to shut up.

  We hadn’t forgotten anything. We’d double-checked and triple-checked. Our DNA couldn’t be found in that house. Or our fingerprints. We were always careful. They wouldn’t even find our correct shoe sizes.

  After leaving the duffels and our backpacks in the back seat, we got in and kept an eye on our surroundings. No one lurking. It was a quiet neighborhood. No alarms triggered. No traces. Darius was dealing with AJ’s car, or namely, the tracker. I swallowed past the dryness in my throat as Boone pulled away from the curb.

  Had we actually pulled it off?

  “Why am I surprised that we nailed this?” I asked, baffled. “We’re not new. We’ve been doing this for fifteen years.”

  “I was just thinking the same,” he admitted. “I guess the size of the loot matters.”

  True. We usually worked with others too. Smaller gigs, smaller rewards, more people.

  It made me think of the envelopes we were gonna hand out. It was easy to get greedy and selfish in our business, and that was how one lost connections and friends. We were gonna show our appreciation to Jay, Allegra, Mom, Laney, and a few others.

  On that note… “Don’t get too attached to the cash in the briefcases. I have plans for us.”

  It wasn’t a new plan. It was something I’d considered for years. Like, “If I ever end up with a lot of money, I wanna find a way to do this and this.” And now, we might get that chance. With a bit of luck, Darius could help us.

  “I’m not even gonna ask,” Boone chuckled. “I’m just relieved right now.”

  I exhaled and nodded slowly. It was a damn good feeling.

  Two days later, I drove down to Henderson with two duffels full of money.

  Boone was at Ma’s place, along with Ace, Jayden, and Justin. The two boys had apparently taken a liking to Mom, and who could blame them? From my understanding, the boys had spent the whole week at Mom’s place, though Darius and his partner Gray had stopped by every day to check in and have dinner or coffee.

  I parked outside a nondescript one-story stucco house on a quiet street. Darius had agreed to meet with me before he picked up the kids and started their journey back to Washington.

  Maybe Boone and I would live in a house like this soon.

  On the other hand, they were kinda dull. So much beige. My family and I weren’t meant for a cookie-cutter lifestyle.

  In fact, the more I thought about the house, the more I hated it.

  I knocked on the door and spied Darius through the living room window. He was closing a black garbage bag. Dressed in a pair of well-worn jeans and a wifebeater, it was easy to see where he’d been injured. One of his knees was wrapped in a bandage. It looked thicker under his jeans. A big wrap poked out from his shoulder blade too when he turned to pick up his flannel from the back of a chair. Too late to cover up, cousin.

  He was shrugging the shirt on when he opened the door for me.

  “Oi, kid.”

  I furrowed my brow. “You okay?”

  He had minor bruising along his neck and some cuts and scrapes on his arms too.

  “I’m fantastic.” He opened the door wider and left the hallway. “Coffee? Beer? Coke?”

  “Coffee sounds good,” I replied, closing the door behind myself.

  “In this goddamn heat? You’re nuts.”

  I chuckled and followed him. “You shoulda been here a couple weeks ago. It was brutal.”

  If I didn’t know any better, I’d say they’d hosted one hell of a party here. I passed six big trash bags with takeout containers and pizza boxes trying to poke through the plastic.

  “I distinctly remember you saying you hate takeout food,” I commented. “I remember because it was the moment you broke my heart.”

  He let out a gruff laugh and nodded at the patio. He had coffee for me, soda for himself, and a bag of chips.

  We sat down on the patio that overlooked a small pool. It was a perfectly nice, middle-class neighborhood, yet the idea of living like this made my skin crawl. It felt almost claustrophobic.

  “Do I wanna know what’s in those bags?” Darius asked.

  I took a breath, unable to shake the unease from being here. It was this place. Freshly mowed lawn, no weeds between the stone tiles, no cracks or dents, no color, no room for flaws.

  “Um. Yeah. I mean…” I shook my head and cleared the thoughts. “It’s money.”

  “I figured.” He sat forward, observing me, forehead creased, and cracked his knuckles. “What’s up, Casey? You look… I don’t know.”

  I had to say something. “Could you imagine living in a house like this? Minute I sat down, it felt like someone tied a noose around my neck.”

  A sligh
t smirk tugged at his mouth, and he sat back again and dug out a pack of smokes. “I wouldn’t live here for all the money in the world.”

  It was a relief just to hear him say that.

  “I used to picture myself in a small house over by Calico Ridge, Lake Las Vegas—those parts,” I mused. “It’s gorgeous up there. Especially if you find property on the fringes. Step out on your terrace, and it’s all mountains.” I gestured with my hands, painting a panorama of the mountain range not far from here. “More greenery too, thanks to the lake.” Yeah, that’s what I wanted. “Ace wants a pool too—and probably not the above-ground versions I’ve been eyeing at Sam’s.”

  Darius chuckled and took a drag from his smoke.

  “And I want an Airstream in my backyard,” I said. “A small silver bullet in the corner—as the barbecue area. You know? Like you see in movies. Firepit, bistro lights, wind chimes, colorful blankets, and whatnot.”

  He smiled and cocked his head at me. “You lost me at wind chimes, but the rest sounds like a nice goal.”

  More like a dream. “It’s expensive out there.” I leaned back in my chair and eyed the yard. “At least along the outer rim. You pay for the view.”

  He hummed. “Something tells me money won’t be an issue anymore.”

  The memory of standing by our pullout bed at home with all the valuables we’d stolen flashed in my head, and I opened my mouth, only to shut it and rethink my response. Because he’d given me the golden opportunity to broach the topic of why I was here.

  “That’s why I wanted to talk to you,” I admitted. “We scored a fuckload that night—more than we could’ve hoped for. And that’s before including this.” I grabbed the duffels from the ground and placed them on the table. “It’s two-point-two mil in cash.”

  Darius stared at the bags and raked his teeth along his lip.

  “Two briefcases full,” I said. “This isn’t counting the cash we found in the safe.” Which was almost thirty grand.

  “I had a feeling you’d find more money,” he replied. “I’m a little surprised you told me about it…”