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The Thief

Page 35

by Kate McCarthy


  I follow Kelly from my room and realise it’s true. Mason is cooking breakfast. But Echo is there, helping. And Luke is seated at the kitchen counter, sipping at a mug of coffee. They’re all joking and laughing together.

  My brother.

  Laughing with a Sentinel.

  A lump forms in my throat. He has his surgery in two weeks. I’m terrified. Not because I’m worried he won’t pull through. He will. But because his hopes are built too high. The surgery may help his range of movement, or it may do nothing at all. Either way, I’ll be there for him. I’ll always be there.

  Mason turns in his chair. “Happy graduation day.”

  I walk into the kitchen, leaning down to kiss his cheek. “Thank you.” I eye the scrambled eggs in the pan in front of him. They look a little rubbery. “But you didn’t have to cook.”

  “He insisted,” Echo interjects, pulling something from the oven.

  A knock comes at the front door. Three loud raps.

  I leap a little with excitement and race to answer it. “Is this my present?” I call out, about to turn the handle.

  Kelly’s voice is a whip. “Do not open that door.”

  I freeze as he comes toward me. “Why?”

  “Because your present is out there.”

  “Is my present the person at the door?”

  “No,” he replies, nudging me to the side so I’m basically behind the door as he opens it.

  “Kelly,” I whine, and I’m not going to lie, I sound like a petulant toddler, but I can’t help it. The anticipation is killing me.

  “What do you want?” he asks the person standing on my front porch, his voice icy cold.

  “I want to speak to Ace. Is she here?” It’s Murphy. Well, Hayden now. And Kelly sounds pissed. I can’t blame him. She was Mile’s partner. It doesn’t speak well for her character, cop or not.

  “She’s out,” he says. A tremor of love runs through me. He doesn’t want my graduation day ruined.

  But Hayden appears too stubborn to heed his growly tone. “I just heard her talking.”

  “That was me.”

  “That was a girl talking. You do not sound like a girl, Kelly.”

  On this, at least, we both agree.

  “It was me,” Echo calls out from the kitchen, facing Hayden with a mutinous glare.

  Luke makes his way over, standing beside Kelly and folding his arms. “You need to leave.”

  “Ace?” Hayden calls out. “You can call off your dogs. I’m here because I have news.”

  She must be here about the investigation. Mitch mentioned they were almost done. I actually want to hear what she has to say, but not because I need closure. I don’t. I already grabbed a shovel and buried Miles Howard in the past.

  “I’m here,” I say, stepping around Kelly and in front of Luke. Hayden looks nothing like the detective she is. Her hair is tied in a topknot on her head, likely in deference to the heat, and she’s wearing a tee-shirt dress with white Converse. “It’s fine,” I say and nod to the living area. “You can come in.”

  She steps inside my house, a little wary.

  “Take a seat,” I tell her, being a polite host.

  “No.” Kelly folds her arms, his eyes telling her not to get comfortable. “She can stand.”

  Hayden’s nostrils flare in obvious frustration, but she remains standing. She gives me her attention. “I came to apologise.”

  “Six months too late,” Echo mutters from somewhere behind me.

  She frowns, having heard. “I wasn’t allowed to approach you until the investigation was over with. Howard has been stood down. This isn’t the first time he’s pulled shit like this. They pretty much decided it wouldn’t be the last until something was done. Something more permanent than a public reprimand and suspension.”

  Her news is both good and bad. Miles got the punishment he deserved. Maybe more than he deserved because his whole career has gone up in flames. But according to Hayden, his behaviour has been cumulative, so maybe it was the best course of action. The bad news is that it’s highly possible he’ll blame me.

  I shake my head. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “There’s no need to say anything. I just thought you should know.”

  “Well … thanks for the heads-up.”

  “There’s nothing to worry about,” she reassures me, her jaw a little tight, which I don’t understand because she should be rejoicing at the loss of a shitty partner. Miles is not the type of person you want having your back. “He doesn’t blame you.”

  “I call bullshit. Miles always blames everyone but himself.”

  Her voice is soft when she answers, almost inaudible. “He blames me.”

  I stand there as her words sink in, and I start feeling stupid. Horribly stupid. Because I know Miles’ modus operandi. I know. And if I know, Hayden knows. She worked with him … I don’t even know for how long. She came knocking on my front door after I was hurt by Marchetti (which I know about because Echo told me), and she came back again today to personally apologise, knowing she would likely get a chilly reception (which she did). Those are not the actions of someone who’s tight with a person like Miles, partner or not.

  I remember what I said to her the night we first met.

  “I’m trying to get out! And he’d rather burn my family to ash than see me walk away. Is that what you want for yourself? If so, you’re an idiot, and you deserve everything you get for crawling into bed with him, knowing the consequences.”

  Hayden not only had to deal with Miles, but with Marchetti too, doing god knows what to work her way inside. But she did what she had to do without any support from friends and family because undercover work is not something you can share with those who love you, and then Miles shot the operation to hell, risking everything she’d done. Everything she’d sacrificed. She’s the one who deserves the accolade for bringing Marchetti down. I’ve no doubt Miles knows it too, deep down, and that knowledge makes him burn.

  Suddenly Hayden is starting to feel more like a friend than the enemy and that causes worry to bubble up inside me. Worry for her. “You need to watch your back.”

  “I know.” She looks around the room as if only just realising everyone else is standing around listening to our conversation. “I should go. I just wanted you to know.” Hayden starts to leave. “Oh,” she says, pausing and looking at Kelly. “And unofficially warn you to keep your hands off Marchetti.”

  Kelly raises his palms as if clueless. “Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

  “He’s in the infirmary. I’ve no doubt you put him there.”

  “Still have no clue what you’re talkin’ about,” Kelly answers.

  “Lucky for you he’s still alive.”

  “It’s not luck,” he retorts, the subject a touchy one, one she’s poked at. “It’s—”

  I cut him off before he can incriminate himself. “Kelly.”

  Marchetti has been a subject of much debate between the two of us. My argument being in favour of walking away and letting life take care of him. His argument being life is unfair, and we have to take care of things ourselves. We reached a stalemate and, reluctantly, Kelly compromised. Hence why Marchetti is actually still alive.

  Hayden’s brows rise coolly. “Someone’s turned a blind eye and let you have your fun, but it ends there.”

  “Enough,” Luke cuts in, his expression unreadable, which is unusual because usually you can read him like a book. “I’ll walk you out.”

  Hayden nods, a little too agreeably. My eyes narrow in suspicion. What—

  “Oh, by the way, nice car, Ace,” she says, half turning, cutting off my train of thought as she leaves. “Happy graduation.”

  “Nice car?” I parrot.

  Nice car? I don’t have a— Your present is outside. “Holy shit.” I race for the door, muscling Hayden and Luke out of the way. Luke’s a big guy, and I’m pretty sure I’ve made him stumble in my haste.

  “For the love of … Bitch
, you just ruined my surprise,” I hear Kelly growl from behind me, and she really did, because I come to a halt at the top of the porch steps and stare, my mouth open. There is, indeed, a car parked in the drive. It’s the ‘67 Mustang Fastback. The same one he drove us to Casey’s wedding in. Her paintwork is luminescent beneath the morning sun—the blue bright and glittering like the prettiest jewel in the store. Her chrome is shiny and her wheels fat and black. A big red bow rests on her bonnet as she sits there waiting, showing off her beauty like a prized mare.

  My breath hitches. Kelly steps up beside me. I tuck my hand in his to ground me, otherwise I fear I’ll literally just float away. “You bought me that car,” I whisper, my voice wobbly, wondering how on God’s earth he managed to get the owner to part ways with her. This is the kind of car you never let go.

  “Happy graduation day, baby.”

  “I can’t …” My voice chokes up. “It’s too much.”

  “You kiddin’ me?” he replies, gruff. “You gave me a family. I gave you a car. It’s not anywhere near enough.”

  I squeeze his hand. “I didn’t give you anything you didn’t already have.”

  Kelly squeezes back. “I wouldn’t have them if it weren’t for you.” He jingles car keys in my face. “Now go warm her up, we’ve got somewhere to be.”

  “Where?” I ask. My ceremony isn’t until late afternoon.

  “You’ll see.”

  “I know you wanted a Mustang you could make beautiful yourself,” Kelly says from the passenger seat as he holds tight to the holy shit bar. “This baby doesn’t need any work, but we’ll find you a rebuild one day soon.”

  He says that as if I care. I own a Mustang. I own a Mustang. I own a Mustang. I can’t stop saying that in my head as I screech through a corner, giddy. You can take the car thief out of the girl, but you can’t take away her need to drive like one.

  “You won’t own it for much longer if you keep driving like that,” he says mildly, and I realise I must have been saying that aloud. I punch through another gear. “The police will impound it.”

  “You’ve got contacts, remember?” I point out, high on the smell of rich leather and brake dust.

  “Those contacts don’t really condone hoon drivers.”

  “I’m not a hoon,” I protest hotly. Hoons only care about laying rubber on the road and blowing smoke. There’s no skill in that. “I’m simply driving my little lady the way she was born to be driven.”

  We pull up outside the RSPCA animal shelter in Yagoona that Kelly directed me to. It’s right near Bankstown and my motorway accident. The sickening crunch of metal is still fresh in my mind. The pain and fear. The pouring rain and the bitter tang of blood in my mouth. It runs through my head each night as I lie in bed, my eyes closed as I search for sleep. I don’t think that’s something that ever really leaves you. But Kelly makes it less just by being there.

  I take a deep breath, shoving the memory from my mind as I stare at the big building. “What are we doing here?”

  “We’re here because I love the shit out of you, Chunks. And despite neither of us being ready for kids, I want to start building a family with you.”

  My lips pull back in a wide, excited grin that will not be contained. “We’re getting a dog?”

  He shrugs. “Well you can get a mean-ass goat if you want, but yeah, I’d prefer a dog.”

  It’s not until we’re inside the facility and walking past cages filled with dogs that I realise how difficult actually choosing one is. My heart wrenches as each and every one of them comes to the cage in greeting, desperate for affection. For someone to take them home and just love them. I want to take them all.

  The lady who greeted us follows behind, answering the questions we pepper her way with a quiet calm, leaving us to take the lead rather than influence us toward any particular animal. “You’ll know your dog when you see him or her,” she says.

  And she’s right. I see him about halfway down, not jumping and barking at the cages, nor hiding in the corner either. He’s a red merle Australian shepherd, his coat a patchwork of red, brown, and white, with pale blue eyes that watch us, not warily, but patiently, as if he’s been waiting for us all his life.

  My eyes catch his and cling, and I know. We reach his cage and I stop, Kelly stopping with me. It’s only then I see he’s missing a leg. A back right one. We were approaching him from his left side and didn’t see it.

  “What happened?” I ask the lady.

  “Car accident,” she answers and my eyes burn instantly.

  I see you, I say to him silently as though he can read my mind. I know what you’ve been through. I’ve been there too. He stares back at me with his beautiful eyes, then his two front paws step forward a little, one after the other, and his single back leg hops once to catch up.

  “Hit and run. No one came to claim him. It’s possible the owner couldn’t afford the surgery so the vet took him on, pro bono. He’s been here almost nine months.”

  As long as I’ve known Kelly.

  The dog waits patiently, watching, ignoring the barks of all the others around him. “What’s his name?”

  “Maximus,” she says. “We named him after the Gladiator.”

  It’s perfect. I couldn’t have chosen better. Falling down is how we grow. Staying down is how we die. Maximus Meridius. Max. He’s the one.

  “We’ll take him,” Kelly says, as if he knows exactly what I’m thinking because he’s thinking it too.

  She unlocks his cage door and opens it wide, taking a step back. “I’ll be down in my office when you’re ready,” she tells us.

  Her shoes slap quietly against the concrete as she walks down the hall while Maximus slowly does his half walk/half hop as he leaves his enclosure. He sniffs at us for a moment then his tail wags as if to say I’m ready now. Take me home. My heart is full the moment I crouch and run my fingers through his thick rusty-coloured fur. I have a dog. I have a dog. I have a dog. And a Mustang. I can’t believe that I actually played possum this morning so I wouldn’t have to get out of bed. Today has been the best day ever, and I haven’t even graduated yet.

  “Where will Maximus live? Your place or mine?”

  Kelly crouches beside me. “Ours, babe. I’m movin’ in.”

  My mouth falls open in shock, and my hands pause their scratch in Max’s fur. “In with me and Mason?”

  “Well, the house we’ve been workin’ on is gettin’ sold, and Fox can move in to a place with his brother, so yeah, I’m movin’ in with you and Mason.”

  Then my brows draw together in a wobbly line of worry. “It’s not because of his surgery, is it?”

  “Babe, no. I’m tired of wakin’ up and not havin’ you beside me every mornin’. If that means havin’ to live with your brother, then that’s what I’ll do.”

  I lean across, kissing Kelly hard on the lips. He kisses me back, his tongue sweeping inside for a quick moment, a promise for later tonight, after my graduation, and after family dinner with everyone, a dinner that even Lee and Hammer are attending, and after Maximus is settled in the brand spanking new bed we now have to go buy him, and I can’t wait.

  “You’re the best,” I say.

  “The best you ever had.”

  THE END

  Thank You

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  THE COP

  Luke Fox and Hayden Lewis (aka Murphy)

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  Books By Kate Mccarthy

  The End Game

  Fighting Redemption

  The Thief

  The Give Me Series

  Give Me Love
r />   Give Me Strength

  Give Me Grace

  Give Me Hell

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  Acknowledgments

  To my readers, I thank you for your constant encouragement, and for reading The Thief. Your support inspires me daily, motivates me, and makes me strive do better with each book. I’m eternally grateful for all of you.

  To my darling kids, how loved you are. You (and my writing) are what gives my life meaning. Every day I am grateful for you, the two brightest stars that shine in my sky.

  To all the bloggers, reviewers, and bookstagrammers who have helped spread the word about this book. There are no words to express the level of my gratitude and appreciation of your constant hard work and support. Thank you so very much.

  A special thank you to Maree Hunter. You have been there for me through every step of this book (and all the others) but we both know it’s been an especially tough year, with lots of learning life’s lessons, and I just know this book would not be what it is without you.

  Thank you to Terrena. Girl! You are my rock and I am your barnacle. I love you.

  My editor, Max. I am so thankful and lucky to have you. You are the reason I continue to grow.

  Tammy, thank you for being the beta to this book that I needed. Girl, you scare me, but you are honest, and that is why I appreciate your contribution, and your friendship.

  Kimberly Brower, my agent. For all the work you have done for me already. I’m excited for the future and for what we can achieve together!

  To Nina at Social Butterfly PR. Thank you for everything you have done for me. You have shared so much of your knowledge, and offered so much support and advice, and for that I am eternally grateful.

  Rachel Grey. I am so very thankful for your encouragement, and your advice.

  To all my friends and family. Kirsty, Craig, Stephen. I appreciate the shit out of all of you.

 

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