Smash & Grab

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Smash & Grab Page 22

by Amy Christine Parker


  “I’d like to come with,” Christian says. “That way I can make sure we get the right ones.”

  I am just about to argue with him when all at once he pulls me inside the office building we happen to be passing. “We have a problem,” he says quietly, pulling me over to one corner, away from the windows.

  The guy at the security desk eyeballs us. “Can I help you?”

  “No, sir. My girlfriend got overheated, so we came in so she could cool off. We won’t stay more than a minute.”

  The guy mulls it over, tapping his fingers on the counter. “One minute.”

  Christian turns back to me. “Listen. The guy I told you about, the one who organizes our jobs?”

  “Soldado,” I say, nodding.

  “Right. Some of his guys are out there. Most likely checking to see that I’m doing what I said I would.”

  “Seducing me for information,” I say.

  He stares past me to the street. “Yeah. When we walk out of here, I need you to…”

  “I get it. You need me to act like I like you,” I say with a smile.

  “I need you to act like you want me,” he corrects. “And to play along. Follow my lead. Can you do that?”

  I’m a little insulted. He doesn’t think I can believably pretend to have the hots for him? The boy has no idea who he’s dealing with.

  “Watch me,” I say. I grab his hand and pull his arm over my shoulders, then put my arm around his waist, letting my hand drift downward until it’s resting on his butt as we push through the exit doors. He sucks in a breath the minute my hand touches him. I give him a playful squeeze, barely holding back laughter as he tenses.

  Soldado’s guys are right outside, sauntering down the sidewalk, their arms sleeved in tattoos, their close-cropped hair glistening with sweat.

  “Yo, man. Qué pasa?” They’re talking to him but looking at me, giving me a slow once-over. “Who’s this?”

  Christian bumps fists with both of them and introduces me. “This is Angela. Angela, this is Twitch and…I mean, Eli and Jesus.”

  They nod at me and I paste on a smile. I don’t like either of them. Not just because of what Christian’s told me about Soldado and the kinds of guys who work for him, but because they have these flat vulture eyes. I feel as if they’re circling us, trying to decide if we’d make a good meal. “Nice to meet you both,” I say in a voice that’s higher-pitched than my real one, one I hope gives off a certain gullibility.

  Christian kisses the top of my head. “What’s up? You guys headed to the truck to see Rosie?”

  The taller of the two, Jesus, nods. “Soldado sent us to get some lunch for him.”

  “Her food is delicious!” I exclaim enthusiastically. “I love that truck. Of course, that’s where we met, so…” I look up at Christian adoringly, and out of the corner of my eye I can see them grin meaningfully at Christian.

  “We heard about Gabriel. Bad luck, bro. But it’s good he’s gonna get better, right?” Eli asks, his eyes boring into Christian.

  Christian tenses a little. “Doctors say he’ll be okay. It’ll be a while before he can work, but he’ll live.”

  “That’s good. Does he remember what happened? From what I hear it was brutal, dude. The backhoe went right over him. Can you imagine? Your bones slowly crushing like that?” Eli whistles. “Pain like that would make you wish you were dead.”

  I can feel the anger in Christian, humming just beneath his skin. His whole body is coiled tight like a spring. These guys are baiting him somehow. I have a gut feeling that if I don’t get him out of here soon, he might explode.

  “Hey, I hate to do this, but my lunch break is up. Christian, can you walk me back to the bank?” There is a beat of silence before Christian nods.

  “Say hi to your mom and sister for me,” Jesus says, still staring at Christian, a slow smile spreading across his face as he and Eli turn to go.

  I lead Christian toward the bank, my arm around his waist. “Are they still watching us?” I ask.

  “Probably,” he says tightly. “Thanks for that.”

  “For what?”

  “For getting us outta there before I ripped their heads off.”

  “What was that about, exactly?” I ask.

  He exhales heavily. “It’s nothing. They’re just reminding me that doing this job isn’t a choice.”

  “You don’t rob banks because you want to?”

  He looks startled, like he hadn’t realized he just said what he did out loud. “It doesn’t matter.”

  Except now I’m curious. “How is the job not a choice?” If he isn’t robbing banks because he wants to, this changes who I thought that he was. I think about being inside his house, about the way he was with his sister. At the time, I found it hard to see him as both this criminal and this boy with college posters on his wall and a bookshelf filled with literary classics. But if somehow he was being blackmailed…“When he mentioned your family…are they threatening them somehow to keep you committing robberies?”

  Christian slips from my grasp and takes a step away from me, putting distance between us. “Just leave it alone, please. We agreed on boundaries and this is one of mine. I’ll call you later, okay?”

  He gives me a half smile and then, as if remembering that Eli and Jesus might be watching, pulls me close. “I wouldn’t do this if it weren’t necessary. Sorry,” he says in a rush, and then he moves a hand to my face and leans in and kisses me.

  I’m so unprepared that I stiffen on reflex, but then his lips move against mine and I can taste him and he’s so close to me, filling up the space, stealing my air, my ability to think straight, and I forget my surprise and kiss him back. Now it’s his turn to stiffen, but instead of pulling away, he crushes me to him. His lips move more urgently. Caught up, I lift my hand to his face and trace the length of his jaw. The way he kisses! I’ve kissed guys who knew what they were doing, and those kisses were good, but this one is immeasurably better. Whatever this is between us is different. My whole body responds. I can feel a ribbon of nerves and excitement flutter through my insides, and every inch of my skin is aware of the feel of him against me. I could kiss him for hours. Days. Weeks. I want him. Really want him. And the minute I realize this, fear as bracing as a bucket of ice-cold water washes over me and I go rigid in his arms.

  He pulls away, his expression serious, searching. “I’m sorry. That was probably overkill, right?” He licks his lips as if he’s testing to see if he can still taste me. I take a shaky breath and put some distance between us. The moment gets awkward, and the world rushes back in—the heat, the harried sounds of traffic and people.

  “I should…I gotta go.” He shoves his hands into his jeans pockets and hurries off, back hunched against the sun and maybe me, never once looking back.

  I put my fingers to my lips, the feel of him still lingering there and on my skin where his hands gripped my back and waist. He kissed me because he had to, I tell myself. I say it over and over in my mind as I walk the rest of the way back to the bank, my skin still tingling, my heart beating faster than it should. After the way that kiss made me feel, I need the reminder. Nothing can happen between Christian and me. I don’t do vulnerable, and especially not with a boy I can’t possibly trust and who definitely can’t trust me.

  I haven’t seen Lexi since Wednesday, when I kissed her. Every time I attempt to, she has an excuse why we can’t meet up. I’ve tried waiting for her outside the bank, but she’s managed to slip away, probably using one of the back exits to the building, where I can’t go without attracting attention.

  That kiss completely freaked her out; that much is obvious. And the stupid thing is, I wouldn’t have kissed her except that Twitch and Psycho were watching, angry after I introduced them by their real names. I’d needed to shut her up. I couldn’t answer her questions about why I’m doing the jobs. If she realizes how much I have to lose, she might also realize I’d do anything to keep it from happening, including—if things go very wrong—le
tting her and her friends take the fall for this job.

  I’d meant the kiss to be quick, but the minute she started to kiss me back…I lost control and things got carried away. I hadn’t expected it to feel like that—like a jolt of pure lightning going through me. She felt it, too. I could tell when I pulled back. She sucked her bottom lip and stared at me, her eyes liquid heat, all shimmer and want and fear. I knew right then that I took things too far. Still, it was all I could do to turn away.

  Now I wonder what it will be like to be close to her again. We’ve spent a couple of days arranging tonight’s zombie mask smash-and-grab over a series of texts. The span of days was supposed to make this meeting easier for her and, I guess, me. But now, standing here along the weedy edge of the lot beside the warehouse waiting for her to show, I’m not so sure it will.

  “How long before they’re here?” Eddie asks, lounging on a broken piece of curbing. “It’s muy caliente out here, bro.” He grabs the giant Gatorade he brought and guzzles half of it in one gulp.

  Carlos and Benny are at the far end of the lot, scoping out the back of the warehouse.

  I’m glad they’re all here. It’ll be easier to keep some clarity. And I like the idea that my boys will be keeping watch, too, not just her crew.

  Twin beams of light dance across the lot, momentarily exposing us before they snap off and an Escalade eases to a stop at the curb. Lexi jumps out, dressed head to toe in formfitting black: T-shirt, pants, knee-high flat-soled boots. Her hair is slicked back into a high ponytail that swishes as she moves. She looks a little like she did that first night I saw her, so much prettier and more herself than she is with that stupid brown wig she has to wear when she’s at the bank. If kissing her when she was Angela nearly made me lose control, what would it be like to kiss her now, looking like that? The thought is enough to rattle me, so I turn away and busy myself with picking up the pack full of gear I brought: metal cutters, a flashlight, a can of glow-in-the-dark spray paint, some putty, and a few firecrackers.

  Lexi’s team trails out of the van, each of them dressed similarly to Lexi. They look like some kind of movie-inspired band of military recruits. I shake my head and chuckle. She glances in my direction, but the minute our eyes meet, she looks away.

  “Seriously?” Carlos says, gawking at them. “What is this? Mission: Impossible?”

  Benny and Eddie crack up.

  “Oh, whatever! We’re more invisible than you guys are. We could see you nearly a block down the road,” one of the twin girls—I think Lexi called her Whitney—says, arms folded, posing with one hip jutted out, her expression fierce. She could be Beyoncé’s younger sister, she looks that much like her. Her sister, too, although she doesn’t have the same fire as this girl.

  My boys edge closer to her crew, their eyes narrowed.

  “This is Quinn, Oliver, Leo, Whitney, and Elena. And I’m Lexi,” Lexi says to Carlos and Eddie. It’s so awkward standing here all together like this, with Lexi looking everywhere but at me. It’s painful. The distrust on both sides is hanging over the lot like a cloud.

  “Carlos and Eddie,” I say. “Benny and me you already know.”

  “So what? We supposed to shake hands? Or can we get on with this?” Carlos asks. He’s not thrilled to have to work with Lexi’s crew, but after what happened to Gabriel and finding out from us what’s supposed to go down during the job, he’s come around.

  “Everybody knows where to go?” Quinn asks. “The security tape is on a loop so the guard won’t see you inside. I’ll keep tabs on the manual alarm from out here. If it goes off, I’ll text you and give you an ETA on the cops. I’ll be listening to their secure channel, so once I hear the call go out and who’s being sent to answer it, I can estimate the arrival time.”

  I gotta admit, Lexi’s brother is damn impressive. We could’ve used him on the jobs. Would’ve made it a lot easier, that’s for sure. “Cool. Carlos and Eddie got watch over the field and the street. Benny’ll go in with me.”

  “Whitney will stay in the car with Quinn and drive over a block so they aren’t too close by. Oliver, Leo, Elena, and I will go inside with you and Benny. We split into groups of two once we get through the back door. Elena and Oliver keep tabs on the guard’s station. Leo and I take the right side of the warehouse, you and Benny the left. There is a mix of costumes and props inside. We couldn’t get an exact location for the masks, but they should be housed on the first floor.”

  “Fine,” I say. “Let’s just get on with it.”

  The warehouse looms at the edge of the lot, surrounded by a chain link fence. We crouch-run around the perimeter until we come to a place where the fence touches a small copse of trees. I kneel down, take the metal cutters from my pack, and snip the links until we have a hole big enough for a person. One by one we slip through. There are cameras mounted along the roof line, but thanks to Quinn, we shouldn’t need to worry about them. We sprint across the parking lot anyway, though, since out in the open there’s always the chance that someone in the surrounding buildings or houses might see us.

  There is a metal door halfway around the back of the warehouse at the top of a low staircase, and we aim for it, running in a straight line, shoulders grazing the concrete wall. The door is flat, windowless, smooth except for the lock and handle. Next to the door is an intercom system. Press the speaker button and it alerts someone inside that there is a person waiting to be let in. Directly above us is another camera.

  Benny takes out the tension wrench and pick he brought and goes to work on the lock. Three minutes later the pins line up and the lock disengages. Leo opens the door very slowly and peeks inside before giving us a thumbs-up.

  The interior of the warehouse is morgue-silent and shadowy, filled with massive shelving systems, boxes, and crates. I slip some of the putty I brought into the doorjamb to keep the door from automatically relocking, so when we come back to return the masks after the job, it’ll be easier to get in.

  “The guard station should be straight ahead,” Lexi whispers, and Elena and Oliver take off. She turns toward me and our eyes lock. She presses her lips together like she’s got something to say and is holding it in, but then there’s a shift in her eyes and she refocuses on the job. “Time to split up. Of course, you guys could wait here. Leo and I can cover this.”

  “You think you’ll find it first, that it? You think you guys can beat us?” I say. If there’s one thing I’m beginning to get about this girl, it’s that she cannot resist a dare.

  She shrugs, and then all at once she’s smiling. “Absolutely.”

  “She’s bowing up on us, bro,” Benny says, looking both surprised and impressed.

  “If we’re about to place bets, understand you’re gonna lose,” I say, looking directly in her eyes. A rush of adrenaline shoots through me because I can feel things between us realigning.

  “Wait. Are we really doing this?” Leo asks, looking from Lexi to me and back again.

  “Absolutely,” we both say in unison. I raise an eyebrow at her and she laughs quietly. I’d thought it would be awkward until we discussed the kiss, but now that we’ve devised this game to play, she’s acting like it never happened. I’m kinda grateful for that.

  “On your mark…,” she begins.

  “Go,” I say, and she takes off. Leo scrambles to keep up, nearly wiping out as he rounds the corner of a shelving system.

  I nod, and Benny and I bolt down another row. The place is full of one fantastic object after another. There’s an ornate horse-drawn carriage, glowing gold and silver under the security lights, and a giant Buddha that looks to be made out of stone but turns out to be hollow. I could spend hours exploring in here if we weren’t trying to steal something. Every few feet I stop just long enough to spray a small dot of paint so we can remember the way back.

  “This is crazy,” Benny murmurs, staring up at a replica of the Trojan horse, big enough to fit a car inside it.

  My phone buzzes in my pocket. Elena.

  Gua
rd is at station.

  She and Oliver have reached their position. So far everything seems to be going according to plan. Good. I run a little faster, anxious to get to the costume rows ahead of Lexi. We round corner after corner, and finally I start to see racks of uniforms, street clothes, and evening gowns.

  “Up there,” Benny whispers, panting, his rubber soles squeaking as he cuts across the aisle.

  There is a wall of masks straight in front of us. Row after row of eyeless faces. We pick up the pace, skidding to a stop in front of a row of clown heads. The wall is long, taking up nearly the length of one of the warehouse walls. Down at the other end I see Leo and Lexi emerge.

  She skids to a stop. She looks at me. I look at her.

  Benny is panting hard-core next to me, struggling to catch his breath, like he might have a heart attack or something.

  “Ready?” I murmur.

  “When”—gasp—“you”—gasp—“are,” he says, wiping one hand across his forehead.

  “Now,” I murmur.

  Benny breaks right, checking the small section there, and I go left, heading for Lexi and Leo, scanning the wall as I go. There must be thousands of masks.

  “There!” Lexi says to Leo, just loud enough for me to catch it, and then I spot the masks, twenty feet ahead. I’m closer. If I hurry, I’ll beat her there.

  I run flat out, and so does she. I’m not actually looking at the masks; I’m looking at her, that ponytail flying out behind her, and her arms and legs pumping. She’s laughing, and as I watch her I start to feel so good I laugh, too.

  We make it to the masks at the exact same time and nearly collide. I catch her in my arms and then whirl her out of the way as I reach up to grab the masks.

  “Hey!” She launches herself onto my back and snatches the mask in my hand.

  I’m just about to go after it when a beam of light bounces over the top of the shelving unit to our left.

 

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