“My dad stole my money again, which means he’s spending it at the local bar,” I explained.
“If he’s there, how come you ain’t home?” he asked.
“Because when the money runs out, he’ll head back. Sober, I can handle him. Drunk, he’s not so nice. I’ll take a night on the streets over dealing with that,” I explained. A huge yawn came over me. Despite my promise to forage for more food, I was exhausted.
“Look, there’s plenty of blankets here for both of us. Why don’t you lay your head down and sleep for a bit?” he suggested, regarding me with pity in his eyes.
“That’s kind of you,” I acknowledged. “If you wouldn’t mind putting up with me while I have a quick nap, I’ll hunt for more food afterward.”
I lay down on one of the sleeping bags, and like a mother hen, he piled blanket after blanket on top of me before making himself comfortable. My eyes were heavy as I drifted off, but I caught his words as he spoke softly to me.
“Get some rest, little one. I’ll watch over you tonight.”
Chapter Three
Lauren
I woke to the sounds of a busy kitchen. Groggy and stiff from the cold, I looked around. A small pile of blankets was piled neatly beside me, but there was no sign of Gabe. He’d most likely gone in search of breakfast, and I figured it was probably a good idea for me to do the same. Folding and stacking everything as neatly as I could, I placed the bedding carefully into a box inside the shelter, hoping that would keep it all safe and dry. The bitter chill of winter was in the air, and I shivered as I began the walk back to the motel. Figuring that it was probably safe by now, I peered around the door to our room to find Dad passed out on the sofa. The stench of stale booze was so overpowering that I could smell him from the doorway.
A wave of despair washed over me. I wanted so much more for my life. For both of our lives. Dad had yanked me in and out of so many schools that I never really had a chance to make a friend before we’d pack up and move. Running from another one of his scams gone wrong. When I was old enough, he made me a part of them. He said no one would look at my big brown doe eyes and think I was anything but innocent. In his eyes, there was no one more or less deserving of being ripped off. Everyone was a mark. He was an equal-opportunity thief that way.
I was a penniless high school dropout with no prospects and nowhere else to go. But looking at my pitiful excuse for a father, I knew that I was done with living like this. Today, I would steal for the last time. One more job to buy a few days of food, and that was it. If I had to walk from one end of this town to the other, if I had to beg and plead or offer a free day’s labor to prove myself, I was getting a job. Friendship wasn’t my home, but it would be.
Snagging my only other pair of jeans, a white T-shirt, and some clean underwear from my duffel bag, I crept to the bathroom. On its highest setting, the useless shower cranked out lukewarm water at pressure barely above a trickle. I emptied a bottle of complimentary miniature shampoo onto my hair. It was cheap stuff, but smelling of apples was preferable to smelling of Dumpster. A pang of guilt hit me as I thought of Gabe. I told myself I’d go back and look for him later tonight so he could come here and shower too. Dad would pitch a fit, but it was the least he could do after the stunt he’d pulled last night. There was always a brief window of remorse when he did something like this, especially if he hit me when he’d been drinking. All too soon he’d forget, though, and it would be back to business as usual. But not for me. Not this time.
Small towns were for scams and cities for quick tricks. I could stroll through a subway car in a big city and snag four or five wallets before hopping off one train and boarding the next. But the small towns worked better for Dad when he was selling some bogus insurance policy or going door to door selling promises that would never materialize. Looking for a trick in a town like this took time. I hovered in the alley between the bank and grocery store, watching people from the safety of the shadows and mentally crossing each of them off my moral list. If they were too elderly or too young or if they looked like they were struggling themselves, I couldn’t bring myself to do it.
I despaired of finding anyone until he pulled up to the sidewalk in his big, shiny truck and climbed out. Everything, from his snug-fitting designer jeans to his neatly trimmed hair, screamed money. A pair of mirrored shades covered his eyes, but he seemed distracted as he pulled his phone from his pocket to check it. Knowing that this was my moment, I slid from my hiding place and, putting my head down, walked stealthily toward him. I’d perfected the art of bumping into someone and making it look like an accident. He stumbled but righted himself quickly and grabbed me before I hit the deck, and I stared up at my own reflection in his aviators.
“I’m so sorry,” I said, as I stepped back reluctantly. He smelled amazing, and I missed the warmth of his arms as soon as I left them.
“No problem,” he replied with a smile. I wanted to ask him where he was from, what he was doing there, and what aftershave he wore to smell so damn good. I wanted to ask him a million things, but I didn’t. Offering him a brief smile, I walked away quickly. Stuffing my hands into the pocket of my coat, I palmed the buttery soft leather of the wallet I’d just lifted.
Eight hours later, and I finally had work. By pure luck, the owner of a coffee shop had lost her temper with a sulky, teenage employee and fired her for being late again. I walked in just in time to witness the showdown and immediately volunteered myself as a replacement. The place was packed with Christmas shoppers looking for a little respite away from the cold, and sensing an opportunity, I offered to work an hour free by way of an interview.
For sixty minutes, I was polite, smiled, and made sure that nothing was too much trouble for any customer. Fortunately for me, the sullen teen had set the bar pretty low, and by the time I left, I had a part-time job starting tomorrow. Sure it was only for the holidays, but I’d take what I could get. I was being paid weekly, so I hoped that whatever I’d stolen this morning could feed me for that long.
Shame had kept me from checking, but I knew I had to. Yesterday’s burger was the la
st thing I’d eaten, and I was starving. There was no way I’d be able to do a full day’s work tomorrow without a meal. Serving delicious-looking cakes and muffins on an empty stomach had just about killed me. I wasn’t too proud to eat leftovers, but I wasn’t about to risk my new job by stealing them. Mournfully, I’d tossed them into the trash before stacking plates in a dishwasher.
Daydreaming about a hot meal, I crossed the road distractedly as I headed to the diner and saw the headlights before I’d even registered the screech of the brakes. The truck didn’t hit me hard, but I weighed so little that I flew about six feet and landed with a jolt on the road. The driver jumped out of the cab and rushed to my side.
“Jesus, are you all right?” I shut my eyes as I savored his deep, sexy British accent.
“I feel like I’ve been hit by a truck,” I answered sarcastically.
“Wait a minute. That’s my wallet!” he said sharply, as he stared at the evidence spilled out on the road.
I was so busted.
“I found it lying on the sidewalk,” I said defensively. “I haven’t even opened it. I stuck it in my pocket because I was late for work, and I was just on my way to drop it off at the sheriff’s office.” With that, I clamped my lips together tightly. Any good thief knew how to lie well. The trick was to stick close to the truth. Give the mark enough to be believable, but don’t embellish. Unfortunately, reason went out the window with this guy. There was something about him that rattled me. His face was devoid of the kind of scorn and derision I expected to see after being caught in such a precarious situation.
“Well, thank you for rescuing it for me,” he replied with a smile I couldn’t help but return. It was hard not to feel guilty when he was being so nice, but I reminded myself that I hadn’t actually stolen from the wallet yet. I mourned the loss of a hot meal, but perhaps I’d run into this guy for a reason. The last thing I needed was to jeopardize my new employment by getting busted with a stolen wallet. He’d bought my story about finding it, so all I had to do was sweet-talk my out of the situation, and I was free and clear.
“You’re welcome,” I replied, my relief at his easy acceptance of my story palpable. Grabbing the wallet, I held it out for him to take. Ignoring my outstretched hand, he crouched down and lifted me effortlessly into his arms.
“What are you doing?” I shrieked. He threw me slightly into the air as he adjusted his grip, and instinctively I wrapped my arms around his neck to keep from falling.