Two weeks until the wedding.
I wake up wrapped in his shirt. I don’t wear it out anymore, and it has basically lost its smell at this point, but I still like to sleep in it.
Sometimes it brings dreams. Filthy, fucked-up dreams where I’m doing things I never imagined in a million years.
Good dreams. Really good ones.
I stretch and grab my phone. There’s a message waiting for me. It’s from a new number. For some reason, he never uses the same one twice.
Alexan: Do you have your dress yet?
I consider ignoring him just to be a tease, but I can’t help myself. Whenever he reaches out, I get a little flutter in my stomach.
And I still haven’t met him in person.
Riley: I was thinking of just wearing your shirt. And nothing else.
Alexan: That wouldn’t be church appropriate.
Riley: You’d like it though. All those hungry eyes looking at me.
Alexan: Nobody stares at what’s mine like that.
Riley: Don’t tell me you’re one of those macho possessive guys?
Alexan: Only when it comes to you.
I’m smiling like an idiot, and I don’t even know why. Brainless caveman stuff is usually a turnoff, but I like the idea of being someone’s special drug. Like he can’t leave me alone.
I’m about to type again when I smell bacon, and I suddenly leap out of bed.
Only one person in this family would ever cook this early in the morning.
I quickly get changed, do my bathroom routine, and run downstairs. The messages from Alexan aren’t forgotten, exactly, but I can get back to those later.
My brother’s standing at the stove. He’s got eggs going and a pot of coffee already brewed.
“When did you get back?” I say, more than a little excited to see him but trying not to let it show.
“Good morning to you too,” Brenden says, saluting me with the spatula. “Just a few hours ago, actually.”
“You look like it.”
He laughs and jabs at me, but I swat him away. It’s true though; he looks exhausted. There are bags under his eyes, and his beard is getting unruly. His hair’s cut shorter than normal, buzzed to stubble, and his clothes are rumpled and dirty.
“I’m lying low,” he says as he plates my favorite breakfast in the world. “Don’t go telling people I’m here.”
“Does that mean you’re not coming to my wedding then?”
He snorts and shakes his head. “I wouldn’t miss that for the world. Riley McGrath getting married to a random stranger? I have to see that.”
“Great, thanks. Here I was thinking my big brother would step in and put a stop to it.”
“We both know I’m not nearly that important.” He gives me an awkward sideways hug. “Go on, sit down. I’ll be there in a sec.”
I curl up at the kitchen table and pick at my food. I wish I hadn’t mentioned the wedding. Even though I like hearing from my future husband, I don’t enjoy thinking about marrying him and everything that comes after.
Sharing a house. Starting a life. Becoming an entirely new person.
Trapped with a man I barely know.
Brenden sits across from me with a plate of toast and black coffee. He never was much of a breakfast guy. All that food’s for me and Dad.
“Alright, tell me about it,” he says, taking a big swallow of coffee. “You holding up okay?”
“I’m fine,” I say, and when he keeps staring at me with a deep frown, I stab some eggs and shove them in my mouth. “I’m actually fine, okay?”
“You seem fine.” He glances over his shoulder. “Feels weird being back here. I know I was only gone a couple of months, but that job—” He trails off, shaking his head.
“It went okay?”
“All according to plan, except the plan was shit and so were everyone I was working with. Still, I’m alive, the family’s richer, and everything ends well, I guess.” But there’s something haunted in his eyes.
“You want to tell me about it?”
He shakes his head. “Another time. After I’ve processed.” But then he smiles slightly, crooked and boyish. “Actually, I’ve been meaning to tell you. I got to use this new crazy device. It unlocks almost any car using this burst of radio frequencies.”
“Seriously? And it works?”
“Sure, on most models anyway. That thing was fun.”
I try to tamp down my jealousy. Brenden gets to go work long, complicated heist jobs all across the country and play with fun toys while I’m stuck at home marrying a stranger.
On a whim, I tell him about my meeting with Jeremy Fong. “You should’ve seen it. Slipped the watch without him feeling a thing right in front of Dad. Nobody had any clue.”
Brenden’s frown deepens. “Jeremy Fong? Young Asian guy with dark hair?”
“Yeah, he seemed nice enough. Very salesy, you know? But Dad seemed to like him.”
Brenden leans toward me. I don’t like the hard look he gives, like he’s trying to lecture a little kid. “Whatever you took, destroy it.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask, laughing awkwardly.
“Fong’s not who he seems. I don’t know what Dad’s doing working with that guy, but stay far away from those people, okay? Whatever you took, destroy it, get rid of it, and pretend like that never happened. Do you hear me?”
I hesitate, tilting my head to the side. Brenden’s usually a bright and chipper guy, but it’s almost like I don’t know the person sitting across from me. He’s serious and dark, worn down to a shadow.
“Yeah, okay, sure.” I drink some coffee, trying to mask my discomfort. “I’m gonna go for a run. Interested?”
He snorts, the frown fading away. “Nah, I’ve had enough running to last a lifetime this last week. You go on ahead without me.”
We finish eating together and talk about family gossip. When we’re done, he heads into his old room to get some sleep, and I put on my running gear.
I’m thinking about my safe of treasures when I hit the pavement.
All these years, I’ve been messing around with thieving. Brenden teaches me what he can, and I’ve gotten pretty good at it even though I don’t really get to practice. I’m quick and physically gifted thanks to gymnastics, and I’m clever enough to pick up on new techniques whenever he comes back with something to show me. If the family ever gave me a chance, I could be really good.
But they never will.
That’s not how women help the organization. Girls my age end up going to college, learning something useful like business or marketing, and they work for one of the various McGrath-related legitimate fronts.
Or they get married and start pumping out new Irish babies.
I could’ve lived with the first option. Sitting in advertising classes only to end up designing logos for garbage collection companies that aren’t even real doesn’t sound like the dream career, but it’s better than what I am now.
A human sacrifice.
And after all that, Brenden wants me to get rid of my watch. The more I run, the more I’m sure that’s not going to happen. Screw him and screw whoever Jeremy Fong is. I stole that watch, fair and square, right in front of my freaking father, and got away with it. That was one of my best lifts ever.
There’s no way I’m going to toss it.
As I head into a park, down a long path, and toward a pedestrian bridge, I slow down to catch my breath. Nearby, I catch someone moving behind some bushes. I stare in that direction, and I swear whoever was over there had a pair of binoculars.
But no, I’m being paranoid. It’s probably just some birdwatcher getting horny over Blue Jays or whatever.
I’ve given up enough to the McGrath family. I’m ending the war with the Brotherhood. They’re getting my body, my soul, and my freaking future. The least my family can do is let me keep my dumb little treasure collection as a reminder that I’m not just a pawn for alliances and a breeding womb.
I was a pretty good thief for a little while.
I start running again, positive that I’m making the right choice.
