Page 4 of The Thief
Fuck, this guy made so much sense, and it pissed me off that he was right. Every bit of what he’d said resonated with me, and I didn’t listen to the opinion of others… ever. But standing there, looking out of that window, I wanted to do what he said. I wanted to prove that I was better than that. I was a good thief. I was the best.
Who the hell was this kid?
Infive minutes, he’d made me rethink everything. I don’t know why, but the way he held himself, the confidence in his air, the stillness in his voice, all of it made me sit up and take note. It made me want to do something to prove him wrong. To impress him.
Why was that?
What sort of twisted shit was he pulling on me?
The other guy behind whispered quietly, “Anyone can steal a wallet. You want to be better? Then start thinking outside the box. There’s so much more that guys like us can take from people like him.”
I turned to face him. “Like what? His soul?”
He shrugged. “If that’s what it takes.”
I huffed, narrowing my eyes at him and sneered. He didn’t react, though. Just stared back at me like he hadn’t said a word. His face was blank, his aura calm. I’d never met anyone like these two before.
“I think we’ll need to work up to that,” the window guy interjected, and then he raised a brow at me. “Go on then. What are you waiting for? Chop chop.”
If it was anyone else, I’d have told them to take a run and jump, but I didn’t. I nodded, strolled over to the door and stepped through into the hallway without looking back.
In the main reception area, I saw Steadman leaning against the desk, chatting to the young girl behind it. The old guy obviously thought he was in with a chance, and he was already distracted enough that all it took was for me to lean across, pick up a leaflet from the display, and slide my hand into his pocket to retrieve his wallet without him feeling a thing. It was like taking candy from a baby.
The young girl at the desk smiled back at me, but he didn’t even bother to look my way. I wasn’t worth the time of day to him, and that was just the way I liked it. The more you blended in, the better a thief you were. No one ever suspected a nobody.
“Do you know where Mr Porter’s office is?” I asked the girl.
Steadman stood there, eyes on her like I didn’t exist, as she replied, “Straight down that corridor and it’s the last door on your right.”
I nodded my thanks and sauntered off, smiling to myself. Being in this unit was going to be more fun than I’d thought.
As I strolled down the corridor, I took Steadman’s wallet out, my grin widening as I saw the stack of fifties stuffed in there.
“Nice doing business with you,” I joked, stopping to pull a fifty out and then stuffing the wallet back into my pocket and taking Porter’s out next. As that lad had predicted, there wasn’t a wad of cash inside. In fact, the wallet was empty. So, I did what he’d suggested and slid a fifty inside it, then took the last few steps towards Porter’s office door.
I knocked, but no one answered, so I pushed the door open and walked in. To call it an office was an overstatement. It was a broom cupboard, at best, with shelving, filing cabinets, and a tiny desk with a shitty threadbare office chair stuck in the corner. The computer looked decades old. There was nothing worth stealing in here, that was for sure.
I grimaced as I breathed in the stale, musty air. There were no windows. It was fucking depressing. Even prison cells had a window, but this was just a stuffy, bland, crappy box. Demeaning, demotivating, and bloody insulting to anyone who was expected to work in it.
I threw the wallet onto the desk and turned to leave, and there, sitting in the corner, staring back at me, was a girl dressed in the school uniform I used to wear. Until today.
I didn’t recognise her, and she just stared blankly at me as she held a book in her hand. Her mouth was open, but she didn’t say a word. She had long blonde hair that was tied back in a ponytail, and she looked younger than me, probably by a year or two.
“What are you looking at?” I said, regretting the words as soon as they came out. I’d walked into the room she was in, of course she was going to look at me.
She went to speak but clamped her mouth shut when we heard Mr Porter come bustling through the door. I turned, my eyes shifting from the girl to him.
“Hello.” He frowned, looking perplexed. “Are you lost?”
I shook my head and motioned to the desk behind me.
“You dropped your wallet. I came down to bring it back to you.”
The girl in the corner snorted and Mr Porter threw her a look and snapped, “Jessica Porter, you need to get going. Now. You’re gonna be late for school otherwise, and I don’t want another phone call from your head teacher. I’ve already spoken to him three times this term about your lateness.”
She didn’t move, her accusatory glare still stuck on me, and he clapped his hands. “You heard me, Jessica. Go on. Move.”
“Yes, Dad.” She huffed and slammed her book shut, shoving it into a backpack on the floor, and then she stood up.
