The Bandit

by B. B. Reid

  “Hi, Daddy.”

  “That’s much better.” He opened his arms, and I leaped from the chair and launched myself into his arms.

  I wasn’t going to cry.

  Crying was for pussies.

  I shoved my face in his chest and bawled like a baby.

  “I’ve missed you too, baby girl.” He held me for as long as he could until a guard ordered us to break apart.

  He squeezed me once and then moved away.

  I’ve missed his hugs.

  We took our seats and just stared at one another until we burst into laughter. “You look good,” I remarked. He did look good. I wasn’t sure what I expected, but it didn’t appear he was suffering.

  He ignored the compliment and studied me. “You don’t.”

  “How perceptive, Father.”

  He wasn’t amused. “Mian.”

  “You’re a grandfather.”

  The atmosphere around us changed with the simple flip of a switch. He blinked and sat back. Then his hand shot up, and he ran it down his face. “No. No. No. No,” he chanted. “Mian—” His voice caught.

  “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

  His eyes glistened with unshed tears. “How did this happen? This is not what I wanted for you.”

  “It doesn’t matter now. He’s here, and we need your help.”

  “He? You have a son?”

  “Yes. His name is Caylen Theo Ross.”

  My father’s lips trembled. He tried to smile and failed. “Do you have a picture?”

  I flinched. “No. I’m sorry. I didn’t think—I mean I wasn’t sure—”

  “It’s okay,” he cut in. “Next time.”

  No, it wasn’t okay. I didn’t have many photos of Caylen, but he deserved to have one. “Yes, next time.”

  “Is he why you’re here? When was he born?”

  “October 30th.” Confusion twisted his features. “What’s wrong?”

  “That was almost nine months ago. Why am I just now finding out?”

  “You forbade me to contact or visit you, remember? I’m only here now because I have no choice.”

  “Ben should have told me. Is he here with you?” His tone was frigid now. “I’d like to speak with him.”

  “Daddy… Uncle Ben and Aunt Gretchen kicked me out before Caylen was born. I haven’t seen them in over a year.”

  He leaned forward and growled, “What?”

  Oh, God. I took a deep breath to prepare myself for the shit storm. “Aunt Gretchen wanted me to terminate. It was too late, so I refused, and they kicked me out.”

  I watched his fists curl around the edge of the table. His knuckles were white and his face was red fury. “I gave those motherfuckers every dime I had to look after you. I’ll kill them.”

  “Daddy…” I looked around nervously. I was sure threats like that wouldn’t be taken lightly in prison.

  “Son of a bitch.” He snatched his hands away from the table and ran his fingers through his hair. “I should have never trusted them with you. I had no choice baby girl, you have to understand.”

  “I know, Daddy. It’s water under the bridge now.”

  “The hell it is.”

  “Please, calm down.”

  “How can I calm down? You’ve been on your own for over a year, and I had no idea. Are you doing okay?”

  “No, Daddy. I’m—we’re—not. I have no money, and we’re almost out of food.”

  He frowned. “What about the money I left for you?” My father had built up savings in my name in the event I ever needed it. When he got knocked, the savings had accumulated to twenty grand.

  “It’s gone.”

  “How could it be gone?”

  “I had no medical insurance for Caylen’s doctor’s visits. Our expenses were too much even when I held a job. I had no friends or family to babysit so I could work. There was just so much, and I couldn’t get ahead. I’m sorry. I—”

  “No, baby girl. Stop it. I know you did the best you could.”

  “But we’re going to starve,” I cried.

  “You won’t let that happen.”

  I sat up straighter to appear strong. Here comes the hard part. “No, I won’t and you won’t either.”

  “Mian… I have no money. I gave everything I had to your aunt and uncle in order to convince them to take care of you. I—”

  “I know that, but there’s another way.”

  “How? Anything.”

  “Your last job. I want to know who you were going to hit and for how much.”

  “What?”

  “I’m going to finish what you started.”

  “No, baby girl. Anything but that.”

  “It’s not up to you anymore. If I can’t do this job, then there’s nothing left but shaking my ass or selling it. Take your pick, but I will not let my son starve.”

  His shoulders slumped. Maybe I won. “I didn’t want this for you.”

  “I know, but someone switched the cards when we weren’t looking, and I was dealt a different hand.”

  “It’s dangerous. He’ll kill you if you’re caught.”

  I smiled despite the warning. I knew the way my father’s mind worked. He couldn’t convince himself not to give in so he’d try to scare me out of it first. I was winning.

  “Then I won’t get caught.”

  “No, Mian. You don’t understand,” he stressed.

  “Then make me understand,” I countered.

  “The mark… it was Art.”

  My mouth opened, but nothing came out. My mind raced too quickly to piece together a complete thought.

  How could this be?

  Daddy may have gone down for Art’s murder, but a part of me had never believed he actually did it. When Bea named him as the person who shot Art in the heart, I still didn’t believe it.

  Now my father was telling me…

  “You did it, didn’t you?” He had never fully admitted it before. He allowed me to believe that something had gone horribly wrong, and he was left holding the blame.

  His eyes were sad and full of remorse. “That’s between me and the dead.”

  “You don’t think I deserve to know why you threw away your freedom and ruined my life to kill your best friend?” As soon as the words were out, I wished I could swallow them whole. I watched my strong father flinch. His eyes flashed with the hurt that I had caused.

  “I am sorry, Mian.”

  I hung my head because I couldn’t take the look on his face anymore. “I shouldn’t have said that,” I whispered to my lap.

  “Four years ago, Art got this big client. Powerful. Word spread quietly among their inner circle and business for Art was booming. He was bringing in more money than ever.”

  “Who was this client?”

  “Too dangerous.”

  “Daddy…”

  “No. The client’s name is not relevant to the job, and I don’t want you mixed up in a politician’s dirty business. It’s never pretty.”

  I knew the Knights did more than just grand theft. Business with politicians pretty much confirmed that their business got a lot dirtier than what met the eye.

  “So, why bring him up?”

  “I know you’ve been Crecia.”

  I blinked. “I didn’t know you knew,” I admitted guiltily. My father avoided me, and I kept secrets. We both had reasons to feel guilty.

  “Art rarely kept things from me.”

  Then why kill him?

  “Oh.”

  “Anyway, after Art started bringing in truckloads of money. He said he wanted a bigger home, hoping it would persuade Bea to give him more sons. He had it built and moved his family.”

  “Where is this house?”

  “Bea loved Crecia so he compromised and had the house built on the secluded land.”

  Where the buse
s didn’t run, and I couldn’t walk to…

  Great.

  “I need the address.” He recited the address without hesitation, and I committed it to memory. “How much?”

  “Sorry?”

  “How much were you going after?”

  He hesitated, and I could see his mind working. “What makes you think any money would still be there?”

  “There may not be any, but there’s got to be something valuable.”

  He must have sensed my desperation. His head tilted and his eyes narrowed. “When are you going to make the hit?”

  “Tomorrow.”

  He bent low and hissed, “Are you out of your mind? It’s too risky. You have no skill and no plan to pull off a job this soon. You’re going to get yourself killed!”

  “Art is dead .”

  “But his son is not .”

  I sucked in air and slammed back against the chair. This wasn’t news to me. It wasn’t what sent me reeling. It was the sudden return of emotions and memories that washed away denial and the carefully sealed compartments in which I had locked away everything Angel Knight. I had not allowed myself to think about him or even speak his name in almost three years.

  With five words, my father pressed the button that released the past. Maybe even permanently. The last time had nearly destroyed me.

  “Are you sure you’re going to be able to do this?”

  I held my stomach to calm the flutters. “Positive.”

  “If something happens to you—”

  “I can do this,” I reassured. “I’m my father’s kid, you know.”

  He had searched my gaze before he answered. “Yeah, I know, baby girl. That’s what scares me.”

  * * *

  I left the building feeling lighter than I had going in. When visiting hours were close to ending, and I still hadn’t managed to assuage my father’s worry, I did the unthinkable and appealed to his guilt.

  “I thought going to prison and leaving me alone was the worst you could ever do to me but it’s not… Letting your grandson and I starve is far more fucked up.”

  My stomach turned because, even though I was sorry I spoke then, I was even sorrier they were true.

  I got what I wanted.

  The combination and location of the safe.

  The money my father had been after would be long gone after three years, but maybe it’s been replaced with more. I have no idea the condition Art left his only son when he died. Did he take over the business? Did he leave him an inheritance?

  The estate my father described might not even be owned by the Knights. What if Bea or Angel sold?

  I had no choice but to risk it all to gain in return, so I shook off what ifs and plotted my next step.

  “Hey, how did it go?” Joey stood next to his car and pocketed his phone he was just thumbing through.

  “Better than expected.”

  He grinned and bounced on his toes. “So, did you ask him?”

  “No, sorry. Must have forgot.” Joey wanted me to ask my father if he ever caught two buff dudes getting it on. There was no way in hell I would ask my father that. Not that he would discuss it with me anyway, but I agreed for the sake of getting a ride.

  “But you were in there for over an hour!”

  “We had a lot of catching up to do since it’s been two and a half years.”

  “Right. Forgot.” We hopped in, and he cranked up the car. “So where to, Miss?” He tipped his cap and made a goofy face.

  “Actually, I need a favor that doesn’t involve you driving me, but does involve your car…”

  “Name it.”

  Chapter Four

  Some ghosts are just memories.

  ANGEL

  “When are you coming home? I need to get my dick wet.”

  I laughed into the phone, not at all surprised at the topic my right hand chose after two weeks of no contact. Lucas Devlin was the male equivalent of a nympho. If it was hot, tight, and wet, he fucked it.

  “Why do I need to be home for that? You need me to hold your hand or some shit?”

  He snorted and said, “It was a separate question and statement. I just thought I’d save time by getting it all out at once.”

  “I’m flying in tonight. I had to tie up some loose ends and knock a few heads together.” That was putting it mildly, actually. The blood I spilled on this job wouldn’t be easily washed away.

  “We should do something tonight. Z misses you.”

  “It’s true, sunshine!” His shout came from the background rather than another phone line, telling me they were together.

  A groan escaped me. If the two of them spent the last week together, I knew I was walking into more bullshit than I cared to handle. Lucas Devlin and Zachariah Ellis were runaways who escaped the system together at the age of fifteen and thirteen. They managed to evade getting caught for six months when my father found them robbing a married couple for their money with stolen guns and no bullets. He admired their brass balls, as he put it, so he hired them. Despite my father’s reservations involving me in the business so soon, the minute the three of us were put in one room, we became inseparable. We stole together, killed together, and even fucked together. The first time someone called us The Three Musketeers, Z literally tried to stick his foot down their throat.

  We’re brothers. Simple as that.

  “What have you two been up to?”

  “Nothing much. Getting shit-faced and fucking,” he answered bluntly. Lucas was usually nonchalant about anything that didn’t directly involve killing and getting paid.

  I shook my head, feeling like the cock blocker in a nontraditional sense. I was the leader, but with it came feeling I wasn’t just their friend but their father too. This was all after pops died of course. He had been as much a father to them as he had been to me and his death gave us a common goal.

  Each of us wanted the man who killed him dead.

  Three years after my father was murdered and my rage was just as strong as the day I received the phone call. My day of birth had taken on a new meaning.

  “Angel, you there?”

  I sprinted away from the dark reaches of my mind and tucked away the memory of my father’s murder where it belonged. “You two act like horny thirteen-year-olds.”

  “But possess the stamina and finesse of a man at least twice that.”

  “You’re twenty-seven, genius.”

  “Precisely,” he retorted. “Chicks dig me.”

  “Whatever. I’m out. I’ll see you tonight.” I ended the call and rubbed my aching shoulder. This job hadn’t been an easy one, but then they never really were. My list of reaps was growing ever long, but what else was I supposed to do when they resisted?

  “The job is the only priority. You must be willing to finish it by any means necessary. That includes killing. Are you ready for this life, son?”

  Arturo Knight was a known and feared heist lord, and when the occasion called for it, and the money was right, he was a hitman. He gained his wealth by taking what didn’t belong to him. I was only sixteen when my father realized my interest in what he did for a living was more than just innocent curiosity, so he decided to bring me in. Doing the job was the only lesson he had seen necessary to teach me.

  “You’re a Knight. Killing and taking shit that doesn’t belong to you will come naturally.”

  But I never got to prove to my father that I could be more than his shadow because Theo Ross, the man I called godfather, had betrayed my father.

  I considered myself a patient man. There was a spot high on my list of reaps reserved for him, and I was willing to wait twenty-two and a half years to put him in his grave right alongside my father. Justice wasn’t complete until it was dealt by my hand.

  With the help of Lucas and Z, I took over the business. One by one, I gained the trust of m
y father’s clientele after some of their enemies disappeared, and I fattened the lining of their pockets pro-bono. It took more time and resources than I cared to sacrifice, but eventually, I had them on board. I wasn’t a man to take no for an answer and had no qualms manipulating people in my favor. Most might say I was controlling and obsessive, but then most people didn’t grow up with a father like mine. He would have expected nothing less.

  As my father predicted, I had a talent for taking what I wanted and killing when I had to was simply exercise. I was even bringing in more cash than my father had ever seen. Even though I kept Lucas and Z on board, I still took some jobs alone and cut them in on the profit from those jobs. They never asked questions because they already knew the answers. I trusted Lucas and Z with my life, but my father trusted Theo with his and ended up trusting the wrong man.

  I packed up my duffle and called a car before making my way to the elevator. I stood in place, waiting for the elevator to arrive, and thinking that maybe I needed a fuck to release the tension I felt in my shoulders. When the elevator doors opened, I froze in place. Inside stood a woman small in stature with dark hair and pouty pink lips. Her beauty was painfully familiar along with her wide, emerald eyes that stared back at me. I was gazing upon a ghost.

  My ghost.

  Mian.

  Innocent, sweet, vulnerable Mian.

  But then my ghost batted her lashes and licked her lips invitingly and I knew this woman wasn’t Mian. There was nothing innocent about this woman who maintained eye contact as she extended her arm and pressed the button to stop the doors when they began to close. I’d been staring too long, and now she thought I was interested, and I admitted to myself I had been until I realized she wasn’t who I wanted.

  She wasn’t the sixteen-year-old girl I used to lust after.

  Reluctantly, I stepped inside and moved to the far corner, furthest away from her. When the doors shut and the elevator began to descend, she angled her body sideways, facing me just enough to display her breasts in the low cut top.

  I pinned her with my cold gaze. “Look, I know what you’re aiming for, and I’m not fucking interested.”

  She had the decency to look embarrassed and mumbled an apology as she faced forward once again. I could have laughed at the irony. I was thinking about getting laid only moments before the opportunity presented itself but lost interest when I realized it wouldn’t be some doe-eyed kid I shouldn’t even be thinking about.