A Thief In The Night

by K. Sterling

  “You’ll always have help,” Roman vowed and Quinn pressed his face into Roman’s shoulder as his heart throbbed and his nerves flared.

  “I know,” Quinn whispered.

  “What do you know?” Roman asked as he leaned back.

  “The thing Jenna and I were talking about,” Quinn said then raised his brows at Roman. “I know,” he said and Roman grinned as he cradled his jaw.

  “You’ll have to tell me about it later,” he said and Quinn nodded.

  “I will,” he said and they looked to the doors at the sound of tires on gravel and vehicle doors slamming. A door behind Darius opened and Jenna was escorted in by two large men. She was blindfolded and they were each holding onto one of her arms as she twisted and kicked.

  “Put me down or I swear I will…”

  “Jenna!” Quinn laughed and her head whipped around.

  “Quinn?” She said and Darius slid them a bewildered look.

  “This is her?” He asked then gestured for them to release her. He was stunned and watched her as if he wasn’t sure what she was as she was set down. She held still as the blindfold was untied and Darius’ eyes became extremely large as he backed away.

  “Quinn!” Jenna cried and ran to him as soon as she was released. He caught her and held her away from him so he could look at her.

  “Are you ok?” He asked and she nodded. She was a bit scraped and a little filthy but she didn’t look injured. Physically. “I’m so sorry,” he said as he hugged her and cradled her head against his chest.

  “I’m fine!” Jenna said and Quinn stopped.

  “Why were you following us?” He asked and Roman pointed in agreement.

  “That is a very good question,” Darius said and he looked deeply troubled as he studied her.

  “You said you were going to Stockwell and I was worried because who in their right mind goes to Stockwell?” She said to Quinn then turned and offered Darius a nervous smile. “No offense! This is all very lovely and you all seem very nice.” She waved cautiously at the people slowly filtering in and taking their places around the large table.

  “It’s a shithole, love,” Darius said in disbelief. “You would have to be out of your mind to go to Stockwell. Why are you in Stockwell?” He asked as he held his hands up and Jenna pointed at Quinn.

  “I just said… I was worried about them,” she explained as if he wasn’t comprehending. Her eyes drifted down Darius slowly and her cheeks turned pink. She pulled the wide-cut collar of her sweatshirt onto her shoulder and pushed her bun out of her face. She was an absolute wreck but utterly gorgeous. “You must be Mr. Darius. I’ve heard quite a bit about you,” she said as she offered her hand. Roman covered his mouth to hold back a snorting laugh and Darius stared at her as if she was offering him a bag of babies’ feet.

  “It’s a pleasure?” He said as he took her hand. He gave it a gentle tug but held onto her fingers as he studied her. Quinn didn’t like it. He gave Roman a panicked look and he raised his brows back at him.

  “Are you friends with Ramon?” She asked.

  “Roman,” he said loudly and she waved a hand.

  “Yes. Are you friends with Rubin?” She said and Darius blinked down at her.

  “We’re cousins,” he replied and his eyes flicked to Roman’s and he silently pleaded for help.

  “I won’t hold that against you,” Jenna whispered appreciatively and Quinn pinched the bridge of his nose.

  “We need to get her home,” he said.

  “We could drop her off then run by your place so you can change,” Roman suggested. He was already dressed to go out. Quinn nodded but his head hung. He was relieved but exhausted.

  “I’m going to be a corpse tomorrow but I don’t have to work!” He said cheerfully.

  “If it helps, I’m sure Mr. Darius could give me a ride home,” Jenna suggested then bit her lip innocently as she beamed up at him and he looked completely horrified. It was a mix of terror and disbelief that a small, unarmed woman would be bold or presumptuous enough to give him something remotely close to an order.

  “I don’t think that’s…” Darius started.

  “I think it’s perfect!” Roman said as he reached for Quinn and smiled at Jenna. “It’ll save us loads of time and you can tell Darius all about how you managed three grown men with just a rock and a can of spray paint. Give him a few pointers,” he said as he pulled on Quinn’s arm and he gasped.

  “I don’t think this is…” Quinn started then stopped as Roman’s eyes widened pointedly.

  “It’s perfect,” Roman insisted.

  “There you go! Everyone, listen to Ronald,” Jenna said and Roman’s eyes narrowed.

  “I’m trying to help you.”

  “Don’t!” Darius and Quinn cried and Jenna held up her hands and hushed them like they were toddlers. It became silent in the warehouse as people stood and leaned and stared in awe from the table and around the room. She noticed and her teeth scraped over her lip before she cleared her throat.

  “Sorry, just them!” She whispered loudly to the people at the table as she pointed at Darius, Roman and Quinn. As if that wasn’t absurd. “Now,” she said as she turned to them. “I haven’t had the best time, these last twenty-four hours, so if it’s all right with all of you, things are gonna go Jenna’s way for a bit,” she announced then raised her brows at them.

  “That’s my girl,” Roman said and she shook her head at him.

  “We’re not there yet, Roland.” Jenna looked at Quinn and smiled. “I’m sure you have no reason to object whatsoever.”

  “He doesn’t. We’ll be on our way,” Roman said and Quinn finally allowed him to drag him away.

  “Roman,” Darius growled and Quinn jumped as his blood ran cold but Roman ignored him as they made their way to the door.

  “Now, about those gentlemen in the tunnel,” Jenna said excitedly as she hooked her arm around Darius’. “I took a women’s self-defense class and I learned some very handy tricks,” she continued and Roman grabbed onto Quinn as he sobbed with laughter.

  “I have such a terrible feeling about this,” Quinn said and Roman hugged his shoulders as Tom opened the door.

  “If it makes you feel better, I didn’t have anything planned for tonight. We could just call it an evening,” he offered.

  “Roman!” Darius roared but Roman grabbed Quinn and pulled him through the door.

  “We should walk quickly. Or maybe jog for a bit,” Roman suggested and Quinn swore and started running.

  Chapter 19

  “What do you mean, it was fixed?” Quinn asked as he shuffled through his mail then shuffled through it again. He couldn’t remember the last time he saw a bill for the electricity. His eyes swept upward and they narrowed. The hall light was definitely still on…

  “That Mr. Briggs took care of it yesterday,” Jim Hooper said as he clapped Quinn on the back. “Good to see you’ve got some help around here. You work too hard, lad!” He scolded as he left and Quinn grinned and offered a relaxed laugh as he waited for the door to close behind him. He slid a hard look at the door to his flat as his brain finally put together all the clues he’d completely missed. The building wasn’t blessed, someone else was making repairs and the utilities weren’t paying themselves.

  “That’s not cool,” Quinn said as he tucked his mail beneath his arm and went to lay a few more ground rules. Who does that? He complained then his face twisted as he realized it would be normal and expected if their arrangement was real. He unlocked the door as Roman pulled it open.

  “Just in time, we have to leave,” he said briskly as he took Quinn’s bag and his mail and dropped them by the door. He shut it and Quinn’s keys left his grasp for a second before the lock tumbled and they were dropped back into his palm.

  “What about my clothes?” He asked as he looked down. He was wearing a different chunky wool cardigan, a plain grey t-shirt, jeans and Sambas. Roman was dressed in a suit,
all solid black, instead of a tuxedo.

  “This is fine for tonight, we’re just going to see Darius,” he said as he turned him toward the door.

  “Maybe I should change,” Quinn said as he tried to stop, he didn’t want Darius to see him dressed like he was going to a playdate. Especially if he was still angry. Quinn would rather die in a suit or a tuxedo, if he had the choice.

  “No time,” Roman declared and Quinn groaned as they stepped out and onto the curb. He gave Mr. Bishop a resigned wave then went to the other side of the car. Quinn got in and Roman offered him a bright smile as Mr. Bishop shut his door then started the engine. “I didn’t have big plans for us tonight. I’m going out with Darius later,” he explained and Quinn’s eyes widened.

  “Like, to a movie or to a criminals’ support group?” He asked and Roman chuckled.

  “They race and try to kill each other,” Mr. Bishop said as he turned toward the Thames. There was an actual note of disapproval in his voice and Quinn gave Roman an expectant look. His hand flicked casually as he read something on his phone.

  “I believe the kids are calling it parkour these days,” he murmured then looked up and checked the windows. “Go ahead and let us out here,” he said and they waited as Mr. Bishop pulled over. They got out and Roman stopped by Mr. Bishop. “I want you to stay with him tonight,” he said under his breath as he patted Mr. Bishop’s chest.

  “What if I’m too far and you need me?” He asked and Roman shushed him.

  “I feel good tonight, don’t worry,” he reassured him firmly and Quinn tried not to frown and look like he was eavesdropping. “Let’s get going, he’s giving us a lift,” Roman said then offered Quinn a cocky smirk as he waved for him to follow. He set off at a brisk pace then turned to wave at Mr. Bishop. “Stop worrying,” he ordered as he pointed then put an arm around Quinn. “I know he means well but he’d make an excellent fishwife,” he said as they hurried.

  “If you say so,” Quinn said and Roman smiled.

  “Here we are!” He said and pointed as a beat up delivery truck struggled loudly as it came alongside them. “Get ready,” Roman warned as he pushed Quinn to get him to start running. The truck passed and Roman gave him a hard shove. “Jump!” He called as Darius hung out the open back door and reached for his hand. Quinn leapt and Darius’ hand locked around his wrist and he was hauled through the door. There was a quick blur at Quinn’s right and Roman dropped onto the metal bench along the wall as the back door slammed shut.

  “Was that really necessary?” Quinn asked and held onto the wall as he made his way to Roman and sat next to him. Darius dropped onto the bench across from them and reached overhead for the bar. His was dressed in black like Roman and his sleeve pulled, exposing more of his tattooed wrist and arm. Quinn’s eyes went to Darius’ and he was watching him again.

  “We’re in a hurry tonight,” he said then winked at Quinn. “I like this better. You don’t look like you’re trying too hard.”

  “Thanks,” Quinn said but Roman frowned as he crossed his arms and extended his legs.

  “Don’t tell him that. I’m just getting him used to dressing like he knows what to do with himself,” he muttered and Darius hissed dubiously.

  “Are you sure he does? He looks like he wipes the handle bar on the trolley before he shops for his almond milk and wheat grass,” he teased playfully and Quinn ignored him. And pretended he didn’t actually wipe cart handles or need to buy more almond milk on the way home.

  “I have to admit, I was very pleasantly surprised,” Roman purred as he patted Quinn’s thigh and he elbowed him.

  “Stop talking or I’ll be doing a lot more with myself,” he warned and Roman sniffed as he became alert.

  “We’re not in Stockwell,” he said but all Quinn could smell was decades of rust, grease and fuel fumes. Darius held up his hands.

  “I thought we’d get dinner,” he said then jumped to his feet and grabbed Roman as he dove for the door.

  “Let him go!” Quinn yelled as he went to shove Darius but his back slammed against the side of the truck.

  “Stop!” Roman’s voice cracked like a whip as Darius’ hand tightened around Quinn’s throat.

  “Do you think you can protect him from me?” Darius asked. It was a cold, steely rasp and Quinn’s nostrils flared as fear and adrenaline rushed through his veins. He didn’t know if he was supposed to fight, apologize or wet himself but he pushed against Darius’ chest as his throat burned and his pulse crashed in his ears. Darius laughed as his grip loosened and he slapped Quinn’s cheek playfully. “Good,” he said then released him. “Sit down,” he said as he pinned Roman with a hard look. “And don’t think I’ve forgiven you. The mess you’ve caused,” he complained and Quinn’s head cocked forward. Mess? Roman groaned and Quinn didn’t like the resignation and dread he sensed in him.

  “Why are you doing this? I’m not ready,” Roman said as he dropped then slapped at Darius. He shrugged it off as he propped his feet on the opposite bench.

  “You can’t always wait until you’re ready,” Darius warned and Roman’s eyes snapped to his.

  “Is she…?” He asked and Darius held up a hand to calm him.

  “She gets a little slower every day. Do you want to wait until it’s too late?” He said and Roman sank as he put his head in his hands. Quinn looked to Darius in alarm but he shook his head gently. “You shouldn’t punish her because you’re afraid to go home,” he said and Roman made a pffffttt sound.

  “She could live with me,” he offered and Darius rolled his eyes.

  “She would hate it there and you’d have to get rid of Grigore,” he reminded him and Roman shook his head.

  “She’s almost blind, I’d just tell her I have a new butler.”

  “Not with that scar. She’d still see that. And she’d feel it,” Darius said and Roman sighed as he nodded. The truck jerked and they all rocked hard as it rolled to a halt. “Cheer up! She’s going to be so surprised. She has no idea you’re coming, I wasn’t sure if I could keep you in the truck,” Darius said as he grabbed Roman by the lapels and hauled him to his feet. The door opened and Darius lifted and shoved Roman at it.

  “That’s not necessary!” Roman hissed as he stumbled out and tugged at his sleeves and the front of his coat.

  “She’s ninety-seven, Roman. You should hurry,” Darius scolded as he jumped out and Quinn smiled as he followed and hopped onto the street. He was confused as he turned and took in the neat rows of houses with pleasant, tidy front gardens and hedges.

  “Where are we?” He asked.

  “Havering,” Roman complained and Quinn bit the insides of his cheeks to keep from laughing. They were in the suburbs and Roman looked like he was going to a funeral. Darius gripped his shoulder and pushed him toward a two story brick home with lace curtains and lamps in every window. Darius followed Roman as he opened the gate and drug himself through the garden to the front door. Quinn saw his hand freeze as it reached for the doorknob and it shook. His fingers trembled and he pulled in a steadying breath as he stared at it.

  “It will hurt less every time,” Darius whispered in Roman’s ear as his hands kneaded his shoulders and Quinn wasn’t sure if he was ready for whatever was behind the door. “Do it now,” Darius urged softly and Roman’s jaw twitched before his hand slowly wrapped around the knob and turned. He pushed it open and stepped forward and his head swung back as if he’d been slapped. His eyes were squeezed shut and tears clung to his lashes as he pushed out a pained breath. He was shaking as Darius hugged his shoulders and made a low shushing sound. “You can do this,” he promised and Roman nodded. Quinn was still on the doorstep and it was killing him. Roman swallowed hard and took a few steps forward and Quinn shut the door behind him as he followed. His eyes swept around the room and he didn’t understand Roman’s reaction. The carpet of the front sitting room was a very strong shade of pink, of the Pepto-Bismol or Flamingo variety and the sofa and armchairs were u
pholstered in a cream floral but the rest of the room was breathtaking. Everything above the chair rail was painted to look like mountains and forest. The sky over the front window was a beautiful sunrise and in the back, over the white and gold dining furniture, a romantic sunset.

  “Wow!” Quinn breathed as he looked around.

  “Bunicuță, ce faci?” Darius called loudly. The sound of a soccer game and excited voices, mostly feminine, bubbled from another room. Roman groaned as a tiny, ancient woman in layers and layers of floral prints and lace waddled into the dining room from what was obviously the kitchen. Her little face was heavy with wrinkles but it lit up with pure joy.

  “Marius!” She laughed hoarsely as her hands reached into the air before she clutched her chest in delight. “Puiule mea! Ayyyy, șoarecele meu!” She sobbed ecstatically as Roman hurried through the sitting room and reached for her.

  “Bunică!” Roman said as he crouched so she could reach him and she laughed and cried at him in Romanian.

  “You can meet her later, she won’t have eyes for anyone else but him for a while,” Darius said then leaned close. “She calls him “her mouse” and you can call him Marius or Peter, Paul or Ringo but never let her hear you call him Roman,” Darius whispered and Quinn nodded. She began to yell at Roman and he was doing his best to calm her.

  “Is this why he didn’t want to come?” Quinn asked and Darius shook his head.

  “She’s mad at him because of his weight,” he translated then waved at the walls. “It’s the Carpathian Mountains,” he said. “Toni lived here when he was a kid. Bunică started to get really low several years ago because she broke her hip and couldn’t get around like she wanted. He painted all of this to cheer her up and remind her of home. There’s too much of Toni here and these walls…” He stopped as his voice became tighter then coughed and Quinn nodded.

  “That’s why he couldn’t come home.”

  “Let’s give them some time to catch up,” Darius said and Quinn grinned as Roman’s grandmother wrapped both of her hands around his and forced him into the kitchen. He was taking the lecture very well as a chorus of women cheered his name. “We’ll take a walk in the garden,” Darius said and waved for Quinn to head for a set of sliding doors behind the dining room table. They paused at the kitchen door and Darius waved at a crowd of women and a few surprisingly normal, innocuous looking middle-aged men. There was so much food and it smelled intoxicating. The counters and kitchen table were covered with trays of pastries and meats in various shapes. There were breads and cakes and pots bubbled on the stove as Roman patiently sampled something from a spoon as his grandmother held it up to his lips. “Everyone!” Darius called. “This is Quinn, he belongs to Marius,” he declared to the room full of mostly women. They were between the ages of about eighteen to bunică and they laughed, teased and whistled as Quinn blushed and waved awkwardly. They all had dark, curly hair and olive skin like Roman and Darius but they had warm brown eyes and they were all staring dreamily at Quinn. Darius pointed at them threateningly then gave Quinn a nudge. “You’re safer out here,” he said and they escaped through the sliding doors. Darius jogged down a pair of steps and Quinn was dazzled as he made his way between rows of plants in pots and raised beds. Most of the plants were dead or dormant for the winter but Quinn could imagine it all green and thriving in the spring and summer. It was a cook’s garden.