by Aubrey Dark
This was going to take a few minutes. Ten, maybe fifteen. There were lots of ways to crack safes, but most methods required drilling, which was something I didn’t have time for. Lots of small safes could be opened by bouncing, which is a special term that means “hitting the damn safe as hard as you can against something to knock the deadbolt open.”
But this one was too heavy. No, I’d have to scope out each combination wheel one at a time.
Between my thighs, the gun prodded into my muscle. I swore and pulled it off, laying it on the desk. Thanks a lot, Justin. Your stupid black lingerie didn’t work to keep me interested, and it sure as hell didn’t work as a gun strap. I’d have to buy another one. I hoped that there was a ton of cash in this safe.
Before I could even start, though, my phone rang. I scrambled to answer it.
“Teresa? I’m kind of in the middle of—”
“You’re in the middle of something? I’m in the middle of a temper tantrum.”
“I can’t—”
“Kirsten Louise Barlow! Get away from that window!”
“Okay, okay. What does she want now?” I asked.
I put the phone on speaker mode and set it on the ground. I didn’t have time to waste. And maybe if someone heard me talking through the door, they would think that I was just having a private phone conversation with a babysitter. That would be okay.
“She wants you to sing to her,” Teresa said, exasperation edging her voice.
“She likes Sesame Street and Raffi,” I said. “And we just got a barnyard album with some farm songs. Any of those should work.”
I slipped a metal sensor through the side of the safe, pressing it as close as I could to the lock. In the background, I could hear Kit wailing.
“No, you don’t understand. She wants you to sing to her.”
Shit.
“Alright, put her on the phone,” I said, turning the knob of the safe until the sensor indicated a click. One.
“Mama!”
“Hey, Kit! How are you?”
“Mama! Maaaaaaaaamaaaaaaa!”
“Okay, Kit,” I said. “Mama’s here. Let’s sing, okay?”
I turned the knob counterclockwise. Two clicks. Kit’s sobbing quieted down a bit, and she snuffled.
“Okay, let’s sing. Baby beluuuuuuga, oh baby beluuuuga…”
“No! No! No!”
“Okay. No baby beluga,” I said, frowning. I spun the knob back clockwise. “How about Bingo? There was a farmer had a dog and Bingo was his name-o.”
There was no response from the phone, which I judged to be a good thing. The knob clicked. Three clicks.
“B-I-N-G-O,” I sang. “Can you sing with me, Kit?”
She murmured something that sounded like “Bah be mama,” which I interpreted as No, you go ahead, mother, I am enjoying myself without joining in.
Alright. I was almost done here. Singing softly, I let the dialer do its work to narrow down the combination. It would only be a few seconds more.
“And Bingo was his name-o. B-I-N-G-O, B-I-N-G-O…”
The safe lock whirred, then clicked open. Not even five minutes. Dad would be proud.
“Bingo,” I said, satisfaction running through me as I began to open the safe. “B-I-N-G-O…”
A noise from behind me made my blood stop in my veins.
Shit.
I spun around, starting to rise up from my knees, when I saw him.
William. The man with the piercing blue-gray eyes.
Now, those eyes were storming over. And my gun was in his hand, pointed at me.
Shit. Shit. Shit.
“Who are you?”
His hand was steady, the gun barrel aimed directly at my head. Even though I knew it wasn’t loaded, it took me a second to breathe again. I shook my head, trying to get my wits about me. There had to be a way I could get out of this. William had been attracted to me, hadn’t he? Would I be able to—
“Who are you?” he asked again, and his voice was so cold that I knew I wasn’t going to be able to escape that way.
“Mama!”
Shit, the phone. Kit.
Slowly, I raised my hands over my head in surrender. William’s eyes tracked me. He was topless, I realized with a flash of ill-timed desire. The broad muscles of his chest gleamed with moisture in the dim light, and his hair was dripping water on the carpet.
God, he was sculpted. I sucked breath through my teeth.
“Mama!”
“It’s okay, baby,” I said, “Mama has to go now.”
“Mama! Bingo! Bingo!”
“Sierra, are you there?” Teresa’s voice came streaming through the speaker. “Kirsten, sit down. Yes, it’s singing time. We can sing. Sierra?”
I winced.
“I have to go,” I said. “Right now. I’ll call you back.”
“Okay,” Teresa said. “She seems calmer now, at least. Talk to you later.”
“Bye,” I said.
Reaching down slowly, I hung up the phone. William watched my every gesture. His eyes were relentless. They swept down over me, then back at the open safe, not missing anything.
“So your real name is Sierra,” he said.
“Only on Tuesdays.”
He didn’t even smile. The muscles in his arm twitched under his skin as he reached down to pick up something from the desk.
“What’s this?”
Despite myself, I blushed.
“It’s—uh—it’s my thong,” I said.
He dropped it as though the piece of black lace had turned into a rattlesnake.
“I mean, I wasn’t wearing it as a thong. I was using it as a gun strap. Obviously.”
“Obviously,” the man said, arching one eyebrow sarcastically. God, his face was beautiful even when it was scowling. His dark features knitted together, making those light eyes even more striking. “And what were you doing on the floor there?”
“Playing a one-woman game of Twister,” I retorted.
“Excuse me?”
“You know exactly what I was doing down there,” I said, crossing my arms.
“Don’t move. Hands up,” he said. “Where I can see them.”
“Why? You have my only gun.”
“Hands up,” he insisted, his eyes storming. I relented, raising my hands up.
“What kind of a line is that, anyway?” I asked. “You’ve been watching too much Miami Vice.”
“I don’t know what that is.”
I rolled my eyes.
“Are you serious? That show has won like, a dozen Emmy awards—”
“I don’t watch TV.”
“Well, aren’t you a special snowflake?” I crossed my arms again and he thrust the gun even closer to me. “Stop it with that.”
“Stop putting your hands—”
Just then, the door opened. My heart stilled in my chest. I would be outnumbered, now, and there was no way I could escape unscathed. I would be thrown in jail, and Kit would be stuck with Teresa until I could post bail. No, Teresa would be stuck with Kit.
But to my surprise, the man spun around and hid the gun behind his back. I could see his finger sliding the safety into the on position.
It was a black woman in the doorway. She stood in a sleek tight dress and heels so high they made me dizzy.
“William?” she said. “Dexter told me you might be upset. I thought—”
Her eyes finally adjusted to the dark and snaked around to where I was standing behind Will.
“Who’s she?” she asked.
It was ridiculous. I’d known the man for less than a half hour. But when the woman asked who I was, I felt a stupid flash of jealousy. This had to be his girlfriend, I bet. Some swanky socialite.
Why do you care?
“Her name is Sierra,” William said. “We’re having a private conversation, if you don’t mind.”
The black woman cocked her head in surprise, but she wasn’t nearly as surprised as I was. My mind whirled.
Why was he
sending her away? Did he want to play hero? Capture me all by himself?
“Sure thing,” she said. “I’ll be out suffering through Sanders’ karaoke when you’re ready to go home.”
“I’ll see you out there.”
“Will—” she said, her eyes finding me again, “—remember what I said.”
“Of course,” he said, his chin tilting slightly up as though in defiance.
She turned to leave, closing the door behind her. This was my only chance. Before William could turn around and point the gun at me again, I’d jumped up and slid across the desk. I grabbed the gun and tried to wrench it away from him.
His grip was surprisingly strong, even though his arm was twisted behind his back. I shoved myself against him with all of my weight, bracing my feet against the desk.
Surprisingly, he didn’t shout out—he didn’t say a word. Rather than let go, he fell down, with me tumbling on top of him.
Both of our hands were scrambling for control of the gun, and he rolled over, sending me down to the carpet on my back. A whoosh of breath escaped my lungs as I hit the floor. He rolled on top of me quickly, the gun still between us.
“Mmph!” I cried, unwilling to give up. I wrapped my legs around his and kept my hand around the handle of the gun. The safety clicked off.
He froze. The gun was sandwiched between our bodies, crushed between our stomachs. His bare chest was pressing down against mine, and I could feel that the gun was aimed down towards a particularly vulnerable part of his anatomy. It wasn’t loaded, but he didn’t know that.
“Don’t move,” I whispered. “Hands up where I can see them.”
“No way,” he growled.
“You’re in no position to argue,” I said, in a voice more confident than I felt.
“I think you’re the one in no position to argue,” he said. His face was inches from mine, his body crushing against me. His breath was hot on my lips, and for one stupid moment I thought about how nice it would be to tilt my face up and kiss him, just kiss that gorgeous rich man right on the lips. I almost wished that his girlfriend would come back and see us like this, entwined together on the ground. My heart was still beating fast, and I didn’t think it was from the adrenaline rush. The pressure of his skin against mine made me melt inside.
“What do you mean?” I said, my tongue thick in my mouth.
“What are you going to do, leave?” he whispered. “You were recorded coming in.”
“Why are you whispering?” I asked. He ignored me.
“I know your face. I know your real name, Sierra. I know your kid’s name—”
“Don’t say her name.”
Anger flushed out the desire from my body in an instant. How dare he threaten my daughter? I tried to twist free, but his body was pinning me down completely.
“Stop moving,” he said. Sweat beaded on his upper lip. Drips of water leaked from his still-wet hair, trickling down his neck and onto my body.
“Let me go,” I hissed, and tilted my hips up so that the gun dug deeper into his groin. He ground against me, his weight bearing down against my hips.
“That’s not a good idea,” he said.
“Me shooting you in the dick? I’m shocked that you don’t think that’s a good idea. Just shocked.”
“You don’t think it’s a good idea either,” he pointed out, “or you would have done it already.”
He had me there. Truthfully, I hadn’t shot him in the dick yet because the gun didn’t have any bullets in it. But that was an even worse position to be in. I scowled at him.
“What do you want me to do, wait here while you dial the police and get me thrown in jail? I have a kid.”
“A kid. And no husband? What about a boyfriend?”
I blinked hard at his question.
“What on earth are you asking me that for?”
“Answer me.”
“Fine! No, I don’t!” I said, raising my voice although his face was hovering just over mine. “No husband anymore, no boyfriend! Is that alright with you!?”
“What happened to your husband?”
“I shot him in the dick,” I said, my voice dripping sarcasm. “We didn’t really get along after that.”
To my surprise, William lifted himself slightly, easing the pressure on my chest. I took a deep breath.
“Do you have a criminal record?” he asked.
“Why are you asking—”
“Do you?”
“No!” I said. “No. No record. I’ve never been caught.”
“Before now,” William said. I glared up at him, but he wasn’t making fun of me. Instead, he was looking thoughtful.
“I’ll give you a deal,” he said.
“What?”
“A deal,” he repeated. His voice was eerily calm, and his eyes searched mine.
“What kind of deal?” I asked, suspicious. “You want me to have sex with you?”
He looked taken aback, and for a brief moment I saw something open up in his face, a vulnerability that I hadn’t seen before. But the expression closed just as quickly as it had opened.
“No,” he said. A dark look flashed over his eyes. “I would never touch a woman if she didn’t want me to.”
“You’re touching me now.”
“You tackled me first,” he said. “And you have a gun pointed at my favorite body part.”
“Ugh. Men,” I said, rolling my eyes. But he did have a point.
“It’s a better deal than that,” William said. “Right now, I let you go with no police involvement. You fix the safe so that it’s closed again. I won’t tell my brother that you tried to rob him.”
He pushed himself up off of my body and stood up, bending over the desk. It was as though he’d forgotten about the gun completely. I suppose he was right—if I was going to use it, I would have used it already. I was grateful for the rush of fresh air that came flowing into my lungs. And I was weirdly cold now that he wasn’t on top of me anymore. I pulled my dress down as I got up onto my knees, acutely aware of how much skin I had been showing. Even more aware of how much skin he was showing.
“And?” I asked.
“And?”
“And in return? What do I have to do for you?”
He was writing something down on a notepad. He tore off the page and handed it to me. It was an address. Turning away, he went to the office closet and pulled out a shirt.
“Be there tomorrow morning at eight,” he said.
“Wh—what are you going to do?”
“I’ll explain tomorrow.”
I stared at him as he pulled on the crisp white shirt. It was such a shame, to see that beautiful chest covered up button by button. When he saw me watching him, he grinned at me.
I frowned. It was obvious that he had never lost control. He had never had anyone say no to him. Well, that wasn’t how this was going to work.
“No deal.”
“Excuse me?”
He raised his brows, and the fierce look in his eyes took my breath away again. He had a way of looking at me that made me feel small, empty inside. I gathered my courage.
“I’m not walking into your sex chamber tomorrow with no idea what I’m getting myself into,” I said, feeling childish as I crossed my arms. “And if you won’t tell me what I have to do in return for this deal—”
“No sex.”
“Then what? Do you want me to clean your apartment naked? Torture you with leather whips while you jerk off? Shove a wine bottle up my ass with you watching? What is it you want me to do?”
“I want you to marry me.”
Nothing he could have said would have shocked me more. My mouth dropped open in surprise.
“M—marry? Marry—” I couldn’t find the words to respond.
“Although your other ideas do sound tempting.” There was a sparkle of amusement in his eyes. “All I want is marriage, by the end of this month, and you won’t have to go to jail for stealing from my brother.”
I opened
my mouth to protest—to say something, anything! But he raised one hand to stop my question in its tracks.
“I’ll explain more in the morning, but that’s the overall gist of it. So. Do we have a deal?”
I couldn’t even speak. The man was insane. Marry him?
I met his gaze. In his eyes, he was searching me, and my body flushed hot all over. It would have been easier if he’d just asked for sex, my brain thought stupidly. There wasn’t any other option but to agree. And the way he looked at me—
I nodded mutely, not able to trust my voice. I had no choice, did I?
Did I?
“Good.” He walked to the doorway and turned back to look at me. “Close the safe now, and be at my place tomorrow at eight sharp. I’ll be expecting you.”
With that, he turned and was gone.
Chapter 7
“You did what?”
Shawna was leaning against the old Basque table in the middle of my kitchen, her dark eyes wide. I stirred the cream into my coffee, although it was already stirred in.
“I asked her to marry me.”
“That’s insane. You’re insane—”
“She said yes, by the way. Not that I would expect you to be jealous or anything—”
“I’m not jealous—”
“But I am going to need you to arrange a wedding. Coffee?”
“I don’t drink coffee, Will.”
“Tea, then?”
“She’s a thief!” Shawna clapped her hands onto her head in disbelief.
“Exactly. There’s no way she would ever blackmail me or threaten to tell my brothers about the arrangement. Not when I have proof that she’s a criminal. It’s perfect.”
“Don’t you think the board is going to look into her past?”
“We’ll do our due diligence to make sure she’s not in any criminal database.”
“Oh? We will?”
“You will. That’s part of your job for today. Green tea?”
Shawna’s eyes went even darker.
“I don’t think this is a good idea.”
“Green tea, then.”
“Black, please. No cream.” Shawna sighed as I pushed the steaming mug over the table toward her. “What was her name again?”
