Page 45 of Princess of Thieves

It’s too much for me to bear. “Well, then, what the fuckwasit like, Rob?” I cry. “Because people don’t just trip and fall and end up dealing heroin. Pretty goddamn hard to do that by accident.” An impulse shoots through me, and I get to my feet. “You know what? I’ve heard enough. I’m done with lies.”

“Wait. Wait!” Before I can take a single step, Rob seizes my arm. “Maren, please. Look. Okay. Just...just sit for a second.”

For whatever reason, I glance at Will. His face is pale, his expression drawn. I expect him to nod, to encourage me to do what his best friend says, but he doesn’t. He just shrugs.

“Your choice, greasemonkey.”

My eyes flutter shut at the sound of the nickname.

Goddammit. God fucking damn it.

Because I know he’s right, and I know that if I choose to leave I’m going to spend the rest of my natural life wondering what Rob would’ve told me if I’d just given him five more minutes.

If I’d stayed and heard him out.

If I’d finally gotten the truth.

“Okay,” I say, and shake myself free of Rob’s grasp. “But don’t bullshit me.”

I sit back in the armchair, back straight. I’m going to make him work for this, I decide. I’m not accepting anything that falls in any way short. The stakes are too high, and I respect myself too much.

Rob pulls back his arm, takes a step back. He breathes out, hard.

“All right. So...” He lifts his arms, lets them fall against his sides. “You want me to be honest?” he asks, green eyes flashing. “Because that’s the honest truth. I didn’t think about that shit back then, Maren. I really didn’t.” He pauses a moment, and I watch his chest rise and fall. Unbidden, I think about leaning into him, resting my head there. “And I damn sure didn’t set out to hurt people.”

I nod, the shortest, stiffest nod I can manage.

“It started out as just little stuff, you know?” Rob goes on. “Testing the limits. Pinching stuff out of stores. Pickpocketing now and again. Joyriding once I learned how to drive. Just stupid kid shit. ‘Cause I was a stupid kid.”

“Was?” Will says softly. I don’t smile, although somewhere, in an alternate universe, it is kind of funny.

Rob ignores him. “But...well, I guess the thing about stupid kids is sometimes they become angry kids. Angry that the world doesn’t make sense. Angry that it’s so easy to be a bad guy and so much harder to be a good one. And you end up reckoning that if only bad guys get ahead, you might as well be the baddest guy there is, you know?”

“So that’s it?” I scoff. “You were some poor little rich boy with these big bad magical powers and you decided to throw it all away playingScarface? Give me a fucking break.”

There’s a long, taut pause.

“Yeah,” Rob says. “Yeah, I was. Is that so hard to believe?”

No,I think.No, it’s not.And that’s what stings the most. Because of course a kid like that, amanlike that, would fall from mischief to petty crime to something much worse.

My thoughts must show on my face, because when Rob catches my eyes again, his expression clouds.

“You have to understand, Maren,” he says, his voice almost breaking. “I was nineteen years old with a fat bank account of family money and this goddamn strange fucking power to shift I could barely understand or tame. I was confused and angry and too smartassed for my own damn good and that’s...that’s a bad combination.” He swallows hard. “I didn’t take life that seriously because I couldn’t. I didn’t know lifecouldmatter that much. No one would care ifIdied, so how was I supposed to know what caring about shit looked like?”

Somewhere, deep inside me, I understand. At least, intellectually, I do. But I can’t empathize. I refuse to.

“So what changed?” I fold my arms. “One day you just wake up with a conscience? The blue fairy raps you with her wand and makes you a real boy?

This time, it’s not Rob who answers.

“He foundus.”

Will steps forward, puts his hand on Rob’s shoulder.

“And he was a fucking mess, too,” Will adds. His usual joking tone is gone, replaced by a steely clarity. “But we understood each other. Had someone to talk to about all the weird shit we were capable of. What it meant to be able to do what we do. That and a little prison time will give you some perspective. Maybe not enough”—he glares at Rob—“but some.”

Rob glances at Will, and they hold each other’s gaze a moment. Then Rob shrugs Will’s hand away.

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