Page 77 of The Lies We Steal

I feel the tension in my wrists release as the knife cuts through the plastic. If he thought I was going to just sit here and listen to this dumb shit, they were severely mistaken.

But Alistair is already prepared for me to retaliate, he clutches onto my shoulder, prodding into my muscle, keeping me glued to the chair.

Leaning down, his cheek pressed into the side of my head,

“How about you keep your sweet ass right there. Be a good girl, you’re gonna wanna hear what I have to say.”

I can’t exactly make a run for it. If my memory serves me well, the last time I ran from him, I was tackled to the ground and I ripped a hole in my favorite jeans. I pull my arms in front of me, as a shield rubbing my wrists soothingly.

My hands were sore, my shoulders throbbed painfully from the uncomfortable position they were in. I wiggle my fingers, stretching them out and catching a glimpse of something black on my right middle finger.

I squint my eyes bringing my hand closer to my face. On the top of my finger below my knuckle are the initials, A.C. about the size of a penny. I’m horrified, rapidly trying to rub off what I hope is a sharpie.

I’m not even paying attention to anything else, just trying to clean off my finger. My finger that has Alistair’s initials on it.

“It’s going to heal like shit if you keep rubbing it.” Alistair’s face is sporting a smug grin that I want to knock right the fuck off.

“You tattooed me?” I shriek, standing up and pressing my chest into his. I lift my chin up into his face, fuming. His dark eyes burn against mine, pieces of his dark hair falling in front of his face a bit, as he dips his head towards my lips,

“Can’t have you forgetting who you belong to. I told you Briar,” He breathes, “you’re mine.”

“I’m gonna rip that silver fucking spoon right out of your mouth just to feed you back all your territorial bullshit.”

“Little Thief, there is no spoon. I learned to lick wealth from knives.”

We stand there, staring down at each other trying to see who would blink first. My breathing was erratic, my heart couldn’t possibly beat any faster. He tattooed me, something so permanent, something so visible. The entire world would be able to see it.

I felt branded. Stamped as his property. I’d never been able to get rid of him, even if he left me alone. I’d always look down at the black ink on my hand and be reminded of how dark his eyes are or the way he smells pressed against me.

That’s why he did this. So a piece of me would always belong to him.

“I’m about to go grab some lotion, this is like premium porn.” Rook announces, making it clear that we are not alone in the bottom of this mausoleum.

“I’m leaving.” I shove my shoulder into Alistair’s chest, pushing past him and towards the stairs. I’m stopped from proceeding by Silas, who doesn’t say a word to me. Only crossing his arms in front of the exit and looking down at me with a blank look.

“You walk out of here, you and your uncle can start packing your shit.”

My spine stiffens as I grind my teeth, curving my head to look over my shoulder,

“Excuse me?”

“We need someone to help us get into a safe. If you don’t want to help, that’s fine. But you can kiss that scholarship goodbye and Thomas can go ahead and start searching for another teaching job.” He says with little emotion in his tone.

Alistair was not bluffing, he could easily pull the strings needed to kick me out. His father and mother are on the school board, with a snap of his fingers not only my life, but Thomas’s life could be ruined.

He’d worked so hard to get himself out of the gutter. To go to school and better himself, only for me to come here and ruin it for him? To take away all the things he worked for within a blink of an eye?

“A safe? What makes you think I can help? I don’t even know how to do that!” I lie straight through my teeth. The only thing he knew I stole was his ring, I didn’t think he knew anything else.

“You can run from you past, but not your criminal record.” Rook says, lighting a cigarette, and releasing the smoke from his mouth.

I felt exposed. Vulnerable as they all looked at me. Every one of them knew everything about me and I only knew what the papers said about them. I was at a severe disadvantage.

“Well there is your answer. If I have a record, obviously I’m not good at stealing.” Another lie.

All of the times I’d been arrested or caught was when I was young, before I’d perfected the art of thievery. Depending on the safe I knew I could easily crack inside of it. I just needed time and a stethoscope. But I didn’t want to help these guys. I didn’t want to help them with anything. I did not want anything to do with whatever it was they had gotten themselves involved in. Some type of gang, drugs, murder, I didn’t want any of it.

“I’m gonna have to sadly agree. How exactly do we know she can do what we need? She’s an illiterate, poorly dressed hick. Would bad be out of the realm of possibilities here?” Thatcher’s voice is starting to sound more and more annoying, the itch to punch him was building by the second.

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