Page 20 of Easy Steal

I had to get my hands on one of these things.

I jogged back to my own car as Livie pulled out of the strangers driveway in our new steal. I followed her back to the shop, and she pulled around the back and parked it among the other cars.

I turned off my car and went to the new one, sitting in the passenger seat. She was fiddling with yet another device and the new key. She didn’t pay attention to me and was fully focused on the task.

After a few seconds, she turned off the car.

Then, using the key, she pressed the lock button and all of the doors locked, then unlocked with another button. She pressed the start engine button on the car, and it started without fault.

“See,” She smirked at me, chucking the brand new keys into my lap, “easy.”

I shook my head, “this is ridiculous,” I chuckled.

She shrugged, “technology is powerful, but it can be exploited quite easily. Good for people like us, not so much for everyone else.”

My phone rang in my pocket, and I pulled it out looking at the name on the screen.

It was Larissa.

“Riss?” I answered, “what’s wrong?”

“There’s something wrong with my car. Can you come look at it?”

“Uh,” I said slowly, looking at Livie from the corner of my eye, “I can’t right now, I’m sorry. Bring it by the shop tomorrow?”

She let out a deep sigh to let me know she was mad and said, “fine,” before she hung up.

I shook my head, stuffing my phone back into my pocket.

“So,” Livie said with a smirk on her face, collecting her things and getting out of the car, “what is your obsession with Larissa anyway? I genuinely would like to know.”

She wandered over towards my car and pulled her backpack out, as well as taking the last donut and taking a bite out of it as she leaned against the door.

“Because as far as I’ve seen,” she said, still eating, “it’s not because she treats you so nicely.”

I shrugged, stuffing my hands into the pockets of my hoodie.

“Come on,” she groaned, “I told you about my dad.”

“Why were you running from him in the first place?”

“Because he’s a dick,” she smiled at me, but it was tense and forced.

“Come on,” she said, “what is it about this girl?”

“I don’t know,” I shrugged again, “it’s hard to explain.”

I wasn’t the best at expressing how I felt, or even just communicating what I was thinking on the most basic level. Something was crossed in the wires of my brain that allowed my thoughts to come out of my mouth.

She nodded slowly, closing the car door and slinging the backpack over her shoulder.

“My Dad is American. He was on holiday in the Philippines when he met my mother. He was supposed to return, but then I came along and he stayed. He was abusive to me and my brother, but mainly my mother. He followed us when we fled to Australia.”

She took another bite from the donut.

“We had just settled down here when he showed up, I saw him here in Melbourne. The very next day, our house was set on fire with my mother and brother inside. He’s been trying to convince me ever since that it wasn’t him who did it. I don’t believe him. That’s why I was running from him the other day. Because I don’t like to hear bullshit stories from bullshit people.”

I nodded.

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