Page 67 of You'll Never Know
They’d shared that message many times, both in text and in conversation. It was their creed. A code to live by. Their pillar in the storm. When things got tough, they turned to the Bible.
Lacey’s gaze remained locked on the words, and she took in a sharp breath.
“What do you think?” Reed asked.
“Oh my god, Luke, it’s perfect.”
Reed knew it was. He’d crafted every inch of the space around her. From the natural light spilling through the skylights above to the pops of color everywhere you looked: A purple Soul Fitness logo hung over the entrance. A pair of mint green and white battle ropes were secured to the floor. Powder blue foam rollers and purple exercise balls sat on a shelving unit placed against the wall. A cream-colored reception desk rested near the front along with a jade area rug and a furniture set—a place for members to relax while waiting for their next class.
Outside of that, the gym was empty, although Reed had marked the floor with locations for all of the cardio equipment along with the weight racks and exercise equipment that would remain permanently on backorder. There wouldn’t be any dumbbells delivered, no benches or machines to offload from a truck. Everything would remain as it was now—nothing more than a dream.
Lacey Grayson’s dream.
Rachel Dawson had been the perfect con. Stealing from her had beena piece of cake. The woman was oblivious; she had no idea he’d been casing from the start. The moment he’d stepped foot in her house, he knew he’d hit the lottery. She had jewelryeverywhere. On the shelves of her closet, piled in the back of her dresser, scattered throughout a bathroom drawer, jammed into a jewelry case on the kitchen counter. Rachel didn’t even have a safe. Reed couldn’t believe it. But why would she need one? She lived in Summerlin, after all, fifteen miles from Las Vegas. And no one got robbed in Summerlin.
A month into their relationship, Rachel flew to Phoenix for a craft convention. She’d begged Reed to come with her, had talked about it for weeks. He’d told her he wanted to, really he did, but he had to work. Too bad. So sad. Then, he’d slipped into her house at two a.m. using the door code she’d been dumb enough to give him and cleaned her out. Thirty grand just like that.
It would have been more—alotmore—but he had to pay Rhonda, his contact at Hidden Gems Pawn who had the face of a truck driver and the voice of a two-pack-a-day smoker. Reed didn’t care that she smelled like an ashtray or talked his ear off anytime he came by. All he cared about was that she sold the shit he stole. And she did every time. The only problem was she took a sixty percent cut. “You try and offload it if you don’t like the terms,” Rhonda had told him with a rasping laugh when he’d complained.
Reed took the money. It was more cash than he’d ever made by a long shot.
He’d pulled more jobs after that. Started dressing better and refined his approach. What he said initially didn’t really matter as much as identifying the right mark: Women with average looks starved for attention. Women with spray-on tans who wore obnoxious dresses and brightened at the approach of a good-looking man. In a city like Las Vegas, it was like fishing with dynamite—the marks floated up everywhere. All he had to do was drop a quick line, and he was in:
Excuse me, I’m afraid I’m lost. Are you from around here?
Wow, I love your shoes. My sister’s birthday is next week. Can I ask where you bought them? I’d like to get her a pair.
Hey, didn’t I see you at Cirque last night? What a show, right?
Unfortunately, most of the marks weren’t as careless as Rachel; even the dumb ones kept their valuables locked up. But Reed still managed to do well enough. All he had to do was wait for an opportunity to present itself. And it always did. Credit cards. Watches. Necklaces. Rings. High-end handbags. Furs. It didn’t matter. If he could sell it, he stole it. And he stole a lot. Then he’d disappear for a couple of weeks before doing it again. All in, he’d cleared nearly eighty grand before Rhonda shut him down.
“I’m done, kid. The cops are asking around. You gotta find someone else.”
Reed didn’t know anyone else. He’d come back anyway. He’d parked nearby and was about to get out of his car when the front door to Hidden Gems slammed open to a pair of burly cops shoving Rhonda outside in handcuffs. The sight froze him, memories of that fateful day with his dad in Texas crashing through his head like shotgun fire.
Bang!“Wake up! Wake up! Oh god, Lloyd, please wake up!” The woman’s cries mixing with all the wailing sirens as she knelt next to her dead husband and cradled his head.
Bang!The police as they arrived, guns drawn, shouting at his father to, “Get the fuck down, get on the ground!”
Bang!His father’s ashen face and bloodshot eyes aimed at Reed, his cheek smashed against the pavement. He looked so pathetic in that moment, so hopeless and broken.
Reed had promised himself right then and there he’d never go to jail, never get arrested. No fucking way. And this—what had just happened with Rhonda—waswaytoo close. Two days later, he packed his bags and moved to Ohio.
He’d buzzed his hair by then and started working out at a local gym. That’s when he’d spotted Lacey Grayson—a slice of blondeheaven clad in tight blue yoga pants and a white halter top. Every guy in the gym ogled her. They had good reason to. She was beyond gorgeous. Worse, she knew it—and she drank it up.
Reed hated her immediately.
The other guys didn’t. Most took a shot, especially the meatheads. She turned them all down. Reed guessed it was because she went to church. He’d overheard her talking about it to a friend. It was a place called Timberline Hills. One of those massive nondenominational spots where people showed up in flip flops and shorts, clutching cups of Starbucks. Reed didn’t know why he hadn’t thought of going to one of these churches earlier. It was the perfect place to hunt. Especiallythiskind of church; a place large enough he could blend in while he scoped out a fresh target.
He’d spotted the flier on his second visit.
Build with a purpose. Connect your business with faith.
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