Constant (The Confidence Game Book 1)

by Rachel Higginson

  It was why Atticus hated him so much. Sayer had stolen Atticus’s fame and glory, making it his own and leaving Atticus in the back with the rest of us that didn’t want to be here.

  “We’ll talk about the money later,” Sayer promised. I nodded, praying he would forget all about it. I could handle my dad without him. I didn’t need the help nor did I want it. To the group he said, “They’re ready for the hurrah. We need to hit tonight.”

  Frankie leaned forward. “They want us to break into the mayor’s house?”

  Unfazed, Sayer added, “And rob him.”

  “Are you out of your mind?”

  “They want it cleaned out. Nothing trashed. No signs that we’ve been there. They just want it all gone.” He rubbed the side of his jaw. “Also, there’s a dog.”

  We all shared a look. I hated dogs. Especially stealing them.

  “And what do we get out of it?” Gus asked.

  “Your usual cut.”

  We all winced. We were paid well, but not enough to risk breaking into the mayor of DC’s house and stealing everything of value.

  Besides Sayer and Atticus, the rest of us were here against our will. Gus was forced into the life by his father. Frankie demanded to be given jobs, but only so she could escape the pretty prison her uncles had designed for her. And I had been sucked in when I’d stolen something for Sayer.

  Sometimes I hated him for that day as much as I loved him.

  And I did love him.

  I had loved him since he kissed me that same day. Hate and love always at war within me for this boy that could talk me into anything.

  It was messed up. I knew that it was. But I also knew I couldn’t do anything about it. I had been trying for five years. And yet here I was, secretly smelling the warm coat wrapped around me.

  “We’ll meet at the usual spot at nine tonight,” Sayer continued to order. “Gus and Frankie, you’ll stick with Atticus. Caro, you’re with me.”

  I ignored the I-told-you-so-look on Frankie’s face. She was convinced he loved me too.

  But what she didn’t understand was that boys like Sayer and Atticus and Gus didn’t fall in love. They screwed around. A lot. Maybe they married eventually, but only to get a pair of sons. Nothing changed for them though. They never stopped screwing around. And they really didn’t fall in love.

  Just ask any of our fathers.

  Gus jumped to the sidewalk. He shoved his hands into his pocket and tugged on his knit beanie. “I got work to do then. I’m assuming there’s security?”

  “He’s on the Italian payroll,” Sayer explained. “The bosses aren’t happy that he won’t play ball.”

  “That’s why he wouldn’t take the girls last weekend? The congratulatory gift?” Atticus asked from the outskirts of our circle.

  Sayer nodded. “He’s been in office for two weeks. Long enough to figure out how things work.”

  Atticus shrugged, agreeing with Sayer. Meanwhile, acid reflux burned in my throat. I reasoned that if the mayor was already working with the Italians, he knew what he was getting into. If he’d picked a side in the ongoing war for the underbelly of DC, then he knew there would be repercussions. He knew nothing in his life was safe or protected.

  Maybe he didn’t expect Russians to hit his house two weeks into his term. But he should have.

  These people didn’t play fair.

  And they sure as hell didn’t play nice.

  We’d been working on this job for a lot longer than his term. We’d known who was going to win the election long before it had actually taken place. Last summer, we’d all been given our roles. Gus had gotten a job at his landscapers and mowed the yard every week. Atticus had volunteered at his campaign office. Frankie and I had gotten to know his daughter by hanging out at the pool where her and her friends always went. And Sayer had run point. We knew the ins and outs of his life. We knew when he’d be home and when he’d be gone. And we knew the layout of his house.

  It would be a clean hit. We’d get in. We’d get out. We’d take everything from him, even his dog, sending a clear message to reconsider his allegiances. From there, his circumstances would get progressively worse until he complied.

  I felt sorry for him. Yeah, he’d sided with the Italians, but what choice did he have? DC was thick with crime, infested with it. You couldn’t enter a public office at any level without having to deal with some crime syndicate or gang intimidation tactic—it went on and on. At least the Italians were significantly subtler than say… the Irish. Or us. The Ukrainians were trying hard to get a foothold here and they were brutal savages. Mexicans, Rastas, Yakuza… everybody was here. Everybody wanted a piece of the pie.

  It was true that most everyone was smart enough to lay low, to let gang violence and rising crime cover up the organized activity, but that didn’t mean DC didn’t have its fair share. And why wouldn’t we?

  DC was the most corrupt city in the country. Politicians came here already half twisted toward evil. Then there was the “donor crowd.” The top one percent. Already so perverted by money that they didn’t care where it went as long as their agenda was accomplished. The lobbyists. The police. The fucking mayor. DC was a cesspool.

  So yeah, we laid low because we didn’t want to piss off the FBI, but we ran this city.

  Gus mimicked typing on the computer. “I’ll see what I can do about the security system then.”

  “That would be great,” Sayer answered. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  “Frankie, you going back to your house?” Atticus asked. “I’ll give you a ride.”

  “I think I’ll just hang with Caro,” she answered.

  We hadn’t had plans, but I knew she didn’t want to be alone with Atticus. He freaked her out.

  He freaked all of us out.

  “Whatever,” Atticus mumbled, turning around and heading in the opposite direction of Gus.

  “Nine,” Sayer called after him.

  Atticus replied with his middle finger in the air.

  Sayer rubbed a hand over his face. “He’s such an asshole.” Looking at Frankie he asked, “Has he always been an asshole? Or is it something that’s getting worse with age?”

  “He’s always been an asshole,” Frankie answered. “But what do you expect being the first son of Ozwald Usenko? Like father, like son.”

  Sayer shrugged. “Ozzie’s not so bad.”

  Frankie and I stared at him. Oz regularly beat the shit out of Gus and Atticus until they were old enough to fight back. He forced both of his sons into this life. Maybe Atticus had gone willingly, but Gus had never wanted this, never wanted to be a part of any of this. And he was a cruel bastard to his wife.

  The only decent thing Oz had ever done was take Sayer in when he had nowhere else to go. But everybody knew that was because Roman had ordered it. Gus and Sayer were close to the same age. It made sense to everyone but Oz.

  Another clue to Sayer’s messed up life before the syndicate.

  “All right, see you ladies later tonight. You going to be okay?” Sayer’s question was directed at me.

  “Fine,” I answered quickly. “Here, let me give you your coat back.”

  “We’ll go shopping for a new one,” Frankie suggested. Then with a sly smile she added, “Maybe we’ll run into those guys at the mall again. This time you have to give that one your number though. He was so hot, Caro.”

  Sayer’s blue eyes flared. “What guy?”

  Oh my God. I was going to kill Frankie. Kill her. This was so embarrassing. And it was only going to get worse. My bright red cheeks were about to catch fire any second, then I would start Sayer’s coat on fire and then I would just die. I would just burn up and die from humiliation.

  “What guy, Six?” Sayer demanded using the nickname he’d had for me ever since we were ten.

  “Oh, just these prep school guys we met at the mall last weekend,” Frankie prattled on. “One of them was so into her. He was like obsessed with her.”

  “Frankie, enough,�
�� Sayer growled. “I asked Caroline.”

  I licked dry lips. Nobody ever used my full name. Ever. Unless it was Sayer. And only occasionally. Like when it was just the two of us. Or right now… when he was obviously pissed off.

  “Caroline,” he repeated firmly.

  Clearing my throat, I fumbled with the zipper of his coat. “Like she said, just these prep school guys. They were just messing around. We don’t even know their names.”

  “You’re into them, though? Or the one guy? The hot guy?”

  Could his glare get any more intense? I was surprised it hadn’t sliced me in two by now. “I’m not into him. Geez, I don’t even know him.”

  Sayer stepped closer to me and it wasn’t sweet or protective or nice. He was trying to be intimidating. He was trying to be the tough guy our bosses paid him to be. “And that’s what you want?” he pushed. “You want to get to know this prep school kid?”

  I glared up at him briefly before I turned back to the zipper, struggling to get it down the frustrating seam. Argh! I was only ever a fumbling idiot around him. And right now it was pissing me off! “Maybe. He seemed nice. And bonus, I’m pretty sure his plans tonight don’t include breaking and entering or grand theft.”

  Sayer grabbed my wrist in a tight grip, stalling me from ripping his coat off and throwing it in his face. “Yeah, but yours do. Don’t forget that when you’re playing rich kid in the city.”

  I was so mad I could have sworn I was about to breathe fire. He had hit all my insecurities. All of them. I wasn’t even interested in that stupid prep school kid. To be honest, he’d been a pretentious asshole and I didn’t like the way he leered at me. That’s why I hadn’t given him my number. Or even my name. Frankie had only brought him up to get a rise out of Sayer.

  Only it had backfired on all of us.

  “Don’t worry about me, Sayer. I can handle myself. The job comes first, right? Always?”

  His jaw ticked, the silent anger vibrating through him. Everybody knew Sayer was the pakhan’s errand boy. He would do anything for them. This job was his life.

  This job was all he cared about.

  Not Frankie. Not Gus. And certainly not me.

  “You better be there tonight, Six. On time. Or so help me god, I’ll—”

  My chin wobbled, betraying me. “What? Tell on me? Report me? Maybe they’ll fire me and I’ll finally be free of this godforsaken place.”

  “Don’t fucking talk like that. You know the consequences.”

  I bit my tongue to keep from saying something I regretted. I did know the consequences.

  Death.

  A bullet between the eyes.

  “I’ll be there tonight,” I hissed. “You don’t have to be such an asshole about it though.” I finally got the zipper free of the fabric surrounding it and yanked it down. “Here, take your coat.”

  Sayer stepped back, the dragon inside him retreating. “Go to the mall. But you better wear that fucking coat.” He took another step back. “Frankie, don’t let her take it off.”

  “That’s the dumbest—”

  He ignored my outrage. “See you tonight, Six.”

  “I hate him,” I told Frankie when he’d walked away. “And I hate his nickname for me.”

  She jumped down from the wall and bumped her shoulder with mine. “You’re such a liar.”

  I sighed, hating the most that she was right. “Why does he have to make things so difficult though? Why can’t he just be a nice guy and ask me out?”

  “Because you would be bored by a nice guy. You’d never waste your time with someone uncomplicated or upright. You can fight it all you want, Caro, but you were born for this life.”

  I turned to my friend. She had a baseball cap on over her braided long hair. “Yeah, well that makes two of us.”

  Her expression flattened. “Let’s go find those prep school guys. We’ll stash his jacket in a locker. I won’t tell if you won’t.”

  Smiling at her idea, we headed for the mall. We even stashed the jacket and found some guys to hang out with. They weren’t the same prep school kids, but they might as well have been. Because the outcome was the same.

  I didn’t give out my number.

  I didn’t find anyone capable of keeping my attention.

  And the entire stupid time I kept thinking about the coat and the boy it belonged to and that even though I wasn’t actually wearing his coat, I was so wearing his coat.

  And I didn’t think I’d ever be able to take it off.

  Not in the way that mattered.

  As messed up as Sayer Wesley was, I was as entangled in this game of ours as he was. As long as Sayer was in my life there would never be anyone else.

  The next day, I rolled out of bed in the early afternoon, exhausted by our late-night success at the Mayor’s. A new winter coat was waiting for me in the living room with a note from my dad. He felt bad for losing my other one. Oh, and he would replace my college money as soon as he could. I didn’t need to worry about anything.

  Only my dad didn’t do shit like that… ever. This had Sayer’s hand written all over it. He’d intervened. He’d stuck up for me to my dad. He’d somehow convinced Leon to do the decent thing.

  So yeah, I did have something to worry about. I had Sayer to worry about.

  I had my weak, infatuated heart to worry about.

  Chapter Eleven

  Present Day

  “It’s so good to see you,” Sayer said sounding so pleasantly surprised, my skin prickled with warning. “Imagine us running into each other after all this time. Here of all places.”

  I gaped at him. My mouth literally dropped open and my tongue lolled.

  Okay, maybe I didn’t have a lolling tongue. I had managed to retain some of my motor functions.

  Not many.

  But some.

  While I stood there internally flopping on the floor like a fish out of water, he stepped forward and pulled me into a hug. A hug? What was happening?

  “That’s what I said,” Gus agreed. “Of all the places in the world, we run into our old friend Caro in the middle of nowhere Colorado. It’s just so surprising.”

  He didn’t sound surprised at all, the asshole.

  Sayer stepped back and I realized I hadn’t even been able to feel him touching me. I was too numb. Too shell-shocked. I hadn’t smelled him or stolen his wallet or patted him down or done any of the things I should have been doing.

  Oh my God, my wallet! I took another step back and ripped open my clutch.

  Breathing a sigh of relief at the sight of my wallet, house keys and lipstick, I snapped it shut again and returned my gaze to Sayer fucking Wesley.

  “Caroline?” Jesse asked, obviously concerned with the state of my mental welfare.

  “She’s so surprised to see us,” Gus teased. “Look at her. We’ve blown her mind.”

  There was a hard edge to Gus’s voice that made me nervous. He was so good at pretending, at playing the con. So much better than he used to be. It was only because I knew him so well that I could hear it. Every word, every mannerism laced with fury. Betrayal. Outrage.

  It should have made me want to run away. It should have made me afraid.

  But all I wanted to do was cry.

  “She can’t even introduce us to her friend,” Sayer added. “Don’t be so rude, Caroline.” He chuckled at his joke, prompting Gus and Jesse to laugh with him.

  I still hadn’t gained control of my facial muscles.

  “Sayer Smith.” He reached out his hand to Jesse. I flinched at the old name. The old alias. Smith had been our inside joke.

  His words echoed through my head from long ago. Let’s just run away. Go somewhere new where nobody can recognize us. We’ll be the Smiths. We’ll blend in. We’ll disappear.

  Back when our futures had been so entirely entwined.

  Back when I couldn’t imagine a life without him. Wherever that meant we ended up. Whatever that meant we ended up doing.

  Jesse eyed me bef
ore shaking Sayer’s hand. “Jesse Hasting.”

  Sayer nodded. “Hasting. Are you connected to the Hasting ranch outside of town?”

  “That’s mine,” Jesse confirmed. “My dad and I run it.”

  Sayer smiled easily, familiarly. Dangerously. The look was so him, effortless and confident, friendly and beguiling. He used his charm as a weapon. To lay traps. To win. “Thought so. That’s a great operation you got out there.”

  “Interested in horses and cattle, Mr. Smith?” Jesse asked, rightfully suspicious.

  “Not really. But Gus and I did our research on the town. We know the ins and outs. On paper at least. It’s nice to be able to put a face to the name we’ve heard so much about.”

  Each of his words had a double meaning, a secret agenda. My heart hammered inside my chest, a desperate drumbeat that threatened to pound right out of my body, through bone and sinew and flesh.

  Jesse smiled. “Small town gossip?”

  Sayer nodded.

  Jesse’s smile disappeared. “It’s funny though. We heard nothing about the two of you before tonight.”

  The steely look in Sayer’s empty blue eyes didn’t change. “We know how to keep a low profile.” Then he laughed, as if this were the most natural conversation in the world. “There will be plenty to gossip about after tonight though. I’m sure.”

  I struggled to swallow. Was that a threat?

  Gus refocused on me. “What about you, Caro? What are you up to these days?”

  There was a long awkward silence while I struggled with what to do. If they had been asking around town about me and people I hung out with, i.e. Jesse, did they know about Juliet too? Did they know she was Sayer’s daughter?

  How much did they know?

  How much could I lie about?

  I cleared my throat and shook myself out of the zombie-like stupor I’d fallen into. There were higher stakes at play than my life. I had a daughter to protect.

  A daughter I would do anything to save from this life.

  Sayer represented everything that I was desperate to keep Juliet away from. I would never go back.