Stealing Away

by Harley Fox

  “You’re big,” he says. “And strong?”

  I hesitate for a moment before nodding. “I’m strong.”

  “I have need of another strong man. How would you like a job?”

  “I already have a job,” I tell him. Dr. Coolidge is watching this exchange with narrowed eyes.

  “Where would Edward have gone?” she asks. “This is the middle of the desert.”

  “I don’t know, I told you. He goes on walkabouts sometimes. This hasn’t been the easiest of jobs for us.”

  “All the more reason to get a different one,” the client interjects. I force a smile on my face.

  “Thank you, but again, I’ll have to pass.”

  “But why would he leave?” Dr. Coolidge persists. “It doesn’t make sense.”

  “You can ask him when he gets back.”

  “You know that’s a stupid response. Of course I can’t stay that long.”

  Rebekka and Julian reappear with the crates. Dr. Coolidge is the first one to speak.

  “You should check them,” she tells the client, and for the first time the old man’s smile starts to falter. Rebekka and Julian stop halfway to the car. “There’s something strange going on. Check to make sure everything’s there.”

  “Hmmmm,” the client hums long and loud. “You are suspicious.”

  “It doesn’t feel right. He would have said something.”

  “Is this about Edward?” Julian asks. “He went on a walkabout.”

  “Yes, we’ve heard,” Dr. Coolidge says through gritted teeth. “Open that crate. Check what’s inside.”

  Julian puts his crate down on the ground and lifts the lid off. The client walks over, joined by Mr. Brown and Dr. Coolidge. Amid the wood shavings used for transport sit several items: a bracelet, a comb, a small bowl. And the jade necklace. We all look inside, none of us speaking. And then the client reaches down, his hand aimed for the necklace.

  “Be careful,” Julian says, and the client stops only long enough to register him.

  “I’ve purchased these,” he tells Julian. “They’re mine now.”

  He picks up the necklace out of the shavings, brushing off the few that cling to it. Letting the delicate thing hang between his fingers, he turns it over, letting the sunlight dance off its surfaces.

  “That’s the Forbidden Necklace,” I tell him, and now he looks up at me, that smile back on his face. “I read about it, on the thing at the museum.”

  The client nods. “I know.” He puts it back down. “It looks exquisite.” When it’s back in place he turns to look up at Dr. Coolidge, whose expression has taken a sour turn. “Well? Are you satisfied?”

  It looks like Dr. Coolidge doesn’t want to speak at all, but finally she nods her head.

  “Fine. Go.”

  Julian fits the lid back on the box and hoists it up, he and Rebekka taking the last crates to the trunk of the car. When they’re set in place Mr. Brown closes the trunk and the client watches, looking smug and satisfied.

  Mr. Brown walks around to the front passenger door and opens it, leans in, and takes out a black suitcase, which he brings back around. Stopping in front of us, he opens it up to show row upon row of bundled bills.

  “Half the agreed-upon amount,” the client says with something like an apology in his voice. “That is acceptable, I hope? Given the circumstances …”

  “That’s fine,” I tell him. “We agreed to that.”

  Mr. Brown snaps the suitcase shut and hands it to me.

  “Well,” says the client with a satisfied air. “It was a pleasure.”

  And he turns to walk back to the car, Mr. Brown shutting the door after him. Then the driver climbs back behind the wheel, closes the door, and starts the engine. That only leaves the three of us and Dr. Coolidge. She’s glaring at us, me in particular.

  But she doesn’t say anything. Not even so much as a goodbye as she turns and gets into her own car, starting it up and leaving the warehouse, the black car following close behind. Rebekka, Julian, and I stand in the sun and watch them disappear behind a sand dune, and then they’re gone.

  “Well, shit,” Rebekka says. “That actually worked.”

  “Let’s just hope they don’t figure it out and come after us,” Julian says.

  “Don’t worry,” I tell him. “You guys did a good job. I think we’ll be fine.”

  We turn and walk back into the warehouse, thankful to get out of the sun.

  “Persephone?” I call out as we snake through the corridors to the common area. By the time we get there she appears at the other entrance, an expectant look on her face.

  “Did it work?”

  “It went off without a hitch,” I tell her. “Dr. Coolidge even insisted we open one of the crates to look inside. Indistinguishable from the original.”

  She beams. “Good. Great. That’s great.”

  “So we should get the real ones out, yeah?” Rebekka asks, and I nod. “Julian and I can do that. Come on, babe.”

  The two of them leave to get the real artifacts out of their hiding places to take them to the van. Persephone and I are left alone. I’m still holding the suitcase of money. She steps up and wraps her arms around me, planting her lips on mine. I let the suitcase drop and grab onto her, lifting her in my arms. She squeals against my lips, and I can feel her legs flutter behind her. Finally I let her down and she lands on her feet. Our lips separate, but we keep a hold of each other, our foreheads touching.

  “So this is it,” I say to her. “No second thoughts?”

  She shakes her head. “None at all,” she says. Her gaze drops to the suitcase by my feet. “It’s a shame you only got half the money, though.”

  “Edward took the lion’s share,” I tell her. “Split three ways, this’ll be more than enough.”

  “And for us?”

  I give her another kiss. “More than enough,” I whisper, kissing her again.

  We let go of each other and I glance around.

  “You know, we were only here for a week, but I am kind of going to miss this place.”

  “Yeah, I know what you mean.”

  A beat of silence passes between us.

  “Did you say goodbye to him?”

  Persephone shakes her head. “No. I’ve been building up to it. I should.”

  “Well … if you’re going to do it, I’d make it soon.”

  She nods. “You’re right.”

  She starts toward one of the common area entrances. I stay where I am, and when she reaches it she turns back to look at me.

  “Are you coming?”

  “I didn’t know if you wanted some privacy.”

  But she shakes her head, holding her hand out to me. I walk forward and take it, and she leads me through the corridors over to Edward’s corner of the warehouse. We get to the entrance of his quarters and stop, both of us standing side by side. There he is, just as Rebekka and I arranged him. He’s lying on his back on the cot, his arms crossed together on his stomach. Underneath them is the framed picture of him, Persephone, and her mom. It’s hiding the bullet wound and most of the blood.

  We stand there for a long time, looking at him. Persephone’s still holding my hand. Edward looks peaceful, lying there. More peaceful than I think I’ve ever seen him when he was alive.

  Finally Persephone takes in a deep breath through her nose and lets it out.

  “Okay. I’m good. We can go now.”

  “Did you want to say any last words to him?”

  But she just gives me a smile. “I already have.”

  We snake through the corridors again, passing by the kitchen, heading toward the front entrance. We find Rebekka and Julian milling about.

  “Oh, sorry for making you wait,” I tell them. “We were just—”

  “We know,” Rebekka says, cutting me off. “It’s fine.” To everyone, “Are we all ready?”

  The four of us exit the warehouse and walk around to the shed by the side. The van is waiting inside, and on the other s
ide is Persephone’s car, where it had been hidden from sight. Rebekka and I head into the shed and grab two canisters of gas while Julian climbs behind the van’s wheel and Persephone heads for her car.

  “You already filled them both up, right?” I ask Julian, and he nods.

  “Yep. We’re good to go.”

  Rebekka and I carry the heavy things with us back to the warehouse entrance where we go in, heading for the common area. When we reach it we stop, give each other a silent go-ahead, and start splashing gas on the wooden crates.

  We move backward through the corridors, splashing the walls on either side of us, me going until my canister runs out. I toss it overhead into the middle of the warehouse where it lands with a crash. When Rebekka and I reach the front door she has just enough left to be able to leave a trail of the clear, noxious liquid on the ground. Then she tosses her canister in to follow mine.

  “Okay,” she says as she pulls a lighter out of her pocket.

  I open up the door and step out, keeping it open for her. She sparks the lighter and brings the flame down to the gas where it ignites immediately, the flame blooming up along the line, heading for the myriad wooden crates full of false history.

  Moving quickly, she exits the warehouse and I leave too, the door slamming shut behind me. The van and car are sitting idle, waiting for us. I head to the car while Rebekka heads for the van. When I get to the passenger-side door I open it up, but stop and look back at the warehouse. Already I can see black smoke start to billow out through the roof.

  Persephone smiles at me as I slide in.

  “Here we go,” she says, putting the car into drive. She leads the way out of here, the dark van full of priceless artifacts following close behind. And in the sideview mirror I see the warehouse, tongues of jagged orange flame now licking the sky, soon to consume everything in it.

  My history included.

  Epilogue

  “Oh God, yes!”

  I feel the crisp white linens bunch in my fist as pleasure rocks through me. Marc’s weight presses down into me, driving me further. I can feel him, every part of him. My free hand runs up his back, down to his ass, grabbing him, pulling him in deeper.

  The balcony door is open. I can hear the birds calling, smell the salt in the air. Outside passersby talk in a language I only vaguely understand. Sun shines in through the open door, and a soft wind caresses our naked skin.

  His lips find mine and we kiss as we roll over, with me landing on top of him. I start to move and Marc’s hands find me, grab me, pull me greedily to him. I can feel him tense and sense the urgency within him.

  “Fuck, Persephone. Oh fuck!”

  As he rises up I do too, until finally we reach our climax together, our fingers interlaced, our backs simultaneously arching and pushing each other to our limits.

  When I finally collapse onto him I’m breathing hard and covered in sweat. His hands find my back and he holds me to him, his chest rising and falling, easily bringing me along with it. I lean up and kiss his lips, the salty taste of sweat mingling with our spit.

  “Mm, that was amazing,” I tell him.

  Marc only smiles and kisses me again, our lips lingering, just touching as we rest together and catch our breath.

  I can feel myself starting to slip off to sleep. I can get used to this lifestyle. Work starts tomorrow—archaeological field work. Marc and I are getting in some rest and relaxation before real life begins. Although so far we’ve been neither resting nor relaxing, in the best possible way.

  Suddenly I start and open my eyes. I must’ve fallen asleep. Marc’s lying on his back with his eyes closed, breathing deeply, regularly. Smiling and giving his bare chest a soft kiss, I slip off and land gracefully on the tile floor. Padding my way to the bathroom, I turn on the shower and step in. The water, warm and caressing, runs over me, washing off the sweat, making me feel refreshed. The taps squeak as I turn the water off, and I step out to grab a thick, fluffy towel.

  I dry myself off, then hang the towel up to dry and slip on a thin dressing gown. I could put on some actual clothes, but I know Marc would have me out of them just as soon as they were on. I pad back into the bedroom and make my way to the balcony. Stepping out onto the terrace, I look over our view.

  Greece. I never thought I’d actually get here. The view is incredible. We can see the Mediterranean Sea for miles. Couples walk hand-in-hand along the beaches, while locals peddle fresh fruit and their catch of the day close by. I close my eyes and take in a deep breath. It still feels like a dream. It’s hard to believe that only three weeks ago we were still back home—whatever home means.

  The drop-off of the artifacts went without a hitch. We did it at night at the loading dock, and didn’t run into anybody. I read a couple of days later in the news that the artifacts were returned to their rightful places in the museum, with the replicas being taken in by the police for investigation. The printed directions we left were also mentioned, along with a note pointing to Dr. Coolidge’s Google Maps history. It sounds like she isn’t working there anymore, although what happened to her after that I don’t know. The location the directions took them to was a burned-down wreck by the time they got there. Last I checked, the police are still investigating.

  As for the four of us, well, the money we got from the trade has taken care of our needs well enough. Julian and Rebekka have talked about doing some traveling of their own, and that maybe they’ll come see us in Greece one day. Marc and I paid Julian for one last job: passports to get us past the border and into Europe. They worked like a charm. Like I said, the quality of his work really has improved.

  Marc and I arrived here two weeks ago, and I promptly started looking for a job. Luckily, my experience working in the field helped me blaze through interviews, and I got two job offers by the end of the week. Marc still isn’t sure what he’s going to do for work. The money we have will keep us afloat, but not forever. Until then, though, we can enjoy the time we have.

  Strong hands surprise me from behind. I smile as I feel Marc wrap them around me, holding me to him. He’s naked, as usual—he’s not as shy about nudity as I am.

  “Mm, hey you.”

  “Hey,” he says in my ear before giving it a nibble. “What’re you looking at?”

  I return my gaze to the window. To the soft breeze rolling past, the blue skies, the bright sun sitting high in the sky.

  “Oh, nothing in particular,” I say. “I was just … appreciating.”

  “Appreciating?” he asks, and I spin around in his grasp, wrapping my arms around him.

  “Yeah,” I nod. “Just appreciating.”

  And with that I lean up and give him a kiss.

  THE END

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  ~ ~ ~

  The Santa Espera Series

  A Day In The Life

  Santa Espera Series Prologue

  A city built on corruption. Who will save their souls?

  Santa Espera is a dirty, sprawling metropolis. The streets crawl with crime, drugs, and forbidden love. At the heart of the city is a monolith; a vast building that stretches hundreds of feet, employing thousands of people.

  PharmaChem.

  The city’s main source of economy and only provider of pharmaceuticals, both over and under the counter. The man who runs it, Will Silver, is the same man who brought this derelict city back to life. He’s the
man who controls 99 percent of its wealth. And he’s got plans for the future.

  Merryn. Jake. Katie. Lance. Trista. Flynn.

  This is a glimpse into a day in their lives before our story takes place. Whether it’s by trying to survive, working a tough job for an even worse boss, or searching for happiness between bedsheets, these six work hard to keep on living. Their fates will soon intertwine. But whether it’s for the better or worse remains to be seen.

  A Day In The Life is a prologue to the Santa Espera series. It is a standalone novella. It contains swearing, violence, sex, and gang-related activity.

  ~ ~ ~

  Rough Rider

  Santa Espera Series Book 1

  He's the worst person I know. And the best thing that ever happened to me.

  MERRYN

  My life used to be empty. I was restless, bored, and stuck at a job I hate. Then my coworker took me to that new bar and my life turned upside down.

  That’s when I met him.

  Big, strong, and cocky as hell ... if you know what I mean.

  I didn’t know he was in a gang. I didn’t know he was dangerous. And I didn’t know the next time we met he would be saving my life.

  But now I’m in danger, and I have to stay with him for two days.

  Lucky me, right?

  JAKE

  I didn’t know what I wanted until I met her. Cute, curvy, and the best f*** of my life. This woman is everything and more.

  But it wasn’t supposed to keep going. It was supposed to end at that bar. And we were definitely never supposed to see each other again.

  Now she’s in danger and I’m the one who made that happen. I’m going to keep her protected. I’m going to get her back alive.

  And in the meantime, I’m going to make sure she’s mine.

  Rough Rider is the first full-length bad boy romance novel in the Santa Espera series. It is a standalone novel. It contains NO CHEATING, dark themes, and some incredibly hot sex!