Page 29 of Princess of Thieves

I tense my jaw, willing the tears not to come. I can’t. I have to think. I have to make a plan. I can’t let the sheriff’s guys get me. I know that much. Best case, they hand me back over to Guy, and I’m trapped. Again. Worst case, I don’t even know. Jail? A fine I can’t afford? A criminal record for stealing a car?

Instantly, I leap out of the seat like the car’s on fire, like I’ve been electrocuted and need to distance myself. I stand in the alleyway, looking back and forth, clutching my birth certificate. I’ve never been so close to freedom and yet so far away—and definitely never been so confused.

“We won’t...we don’t want to...” Tuck tries again, fumbling over his words. “Maren, just... please, think about what you’re doing. If the sheriff gets you—”

Whatever he’s going to say next is cut off by the roaring throttle of a motorcycle. A split second later, a bike tears into the alleyway, squeezes past them, and fishtails to a stop between the three of them and me. The rider flings down a leg and chucks off his helmet.

It’s LJ.

“Princess,” he says, staring me up and down. Even he can’t hide the relief on his rough face. “You’re all right.”

“I am,” I say, my voice breaking. I can’t help it. I can’t deny it. I’m so glad to see him that it feels like I’m being cracked in half.

“I just...” The words rush out of my mouth in a babble. “I just need a safe place to get my things together. That’s all. I don’t have anywhere to go, and—”

LJ throws a look at the other three. “I don’t know what you fuckers have been telling her,” he says, glancing back at me, “but don’t listen to any of them.” He slices his gaze back at the others. “If anyone’s taking her home, it’s me.”

As he says the words, I could almost cry with relief. LJ was the one I thought hated me, the one I thought I could never trust, the one I believed had it out for me for so long. And yet now, I could cry with relief, seeing him here.

It’s foolish and stupid, but I’ve got limited choices and less time. And I just... God, I just want to be with him. I want him to keep me safe. For whatever reason, I trust him to do that. I really do.

A final siren wails from what sounds like just the other side of Town Hall. Will, Rob, and Tuck exchange glances, then look at me. But I’m only looking at LJ.

“Move over,” I say. “Let me on that bike.”

Chapter Nine

It’s weird to be back at the house. God, it’s weird—like walking back into a dream you used to have as a child, one that you only half-remembered and are suddenly plunged back into with every single detail: the driveway, the columns, the massive windows, the deep green of the woods whispering around it, and the calm that comes over me in spite of myself. The scent of Sherwood, so familiar and so foreign all at once.

The ride in from town had taken maybe ten minutes. LJ had wrapped himself around me, a wall of muscle, accelerating the bike to 60, 70, 80 miles an hour on the streets, slowing only once we got into the safety of the forest and the sirens had faded. We said nothing the whole time—not that there was any way to talk above the roar of road noise, and I couldn’t hear much, since he insisted I wear the helmet. Then, when we got to the house, I felt exposed without him protecting me—vulnerable, even though we were the only two people around here.

Now—

LJ pushes something into my hand, and it takes me a second to realize what it is: a key and a small plastic fob. It’s encased in a small leather case, pale blue, with the letter M engraved on the back. I clutch it in my palm so hard I feel the metal digging into me, pressing it to my chest.

“Where did you—”

“I insisted,” he says, not quite meeting my eyes. “First thing after we lost you. Not that I had any reason to think you were coming back, but if you did...” With that, he meets my eyes, and the intensity of his stare makes my knees wobble. “I wanted you to be able to leave again, anytime you wanted. For any reason.”

His mouth is firm behind his beard. “And fortunately, those other fuckers didn’t question me on it.”

“Thank you,” I say, my voice sounding watery and weak.

I realize I don’t even know what time it is. I don’t remember the last time I had a drink of water or something to eat. And even here, in the cool of the woods, it’s beastly hot. It is July in Virginia, after all.

There’s a beat of silence—nothing but the sound of distant, lazy birdsong and the tiniest breeze fluttering the leaves around us.

“I can take you to your room if you want,” LJ says hesitantly. “Your old one. It’s still—”

“No,” I cut him off. “I don’t want to see it. I just want to... you.”

LJ nods. “Come with me.”

He’s telling, not asking. And I don’t want to disobey. He reaches for me but doesn’t touch me, just ushers me toward the garage and the side door. We slip in, and my heart squeezes at the line of cars, all there right where I left them—gleaming, stationary, untouched, and still in need of fixing. Not that that’s my job anymore.

I avert my eyes and just focus on LJ walking in front of me as he makes his way to the side staircase leading up to his apartment. We mount the stairs in silence, and his door slides open. The air up there is cooler, fresher. The setting familiar, even though I’d only been there once—a man’s space. Spartan, tidy, regimented. A place to build strength and be alone.

And if I’m honest, that’s just what I need right now.

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