Taking Mine (18 page)

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Authors: Rachel Schneider

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BOOK: Taking Mine
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“Lilly.”

I blink as I focus on Matt next to me, the flicker of the flames casting shadows against his face.

“I’m going to go grab another beer. Want one?”

I shake my head.

He gives me a tight-lipped smile before departing toward the house.

We’ve been here for over an hour and I’ve stood in the same spot the entire time. Figuring we’re not leaving anytime soon, I might as well take a seat. Before I know it, Matt’s returned with his beer and a canned drink, which he hands to me. He’s nice. He insisted on staying outside with me when I opted out of staying inside. The music’s too loud and it’s crowded to the point I feel like I’m breathing in everyone else’s breath.

“You’re not having fun, are you?”

“I’m relaxing. People-watching.”

He looks around the small fenced-in yard. “Sometimes I forget what these parties look like to someone who hasn’t experienced them before.”

I shrug. “It’s not that special.”

He doesn’t reply and instead takes a sip of his drink. My phone buzzes in my pocket.

It’s from Taylor. He wants me to meet him at Toby's ASAP.

“Let me guess, you gotta go,” Matt says, smiling at me.

“It’s not like that,” I say, defending myself.

“It’s okay. Go.” I don’t move and he pokes me in the side. “Go.”

I stand. “Thanks for understanding.”

He shrugs. “I’m about to kill a game of beer pong.”

I smile, he smiles, and it’s safe to say we won’t go out again, but it’s been an insight to the strange world of college dating. A girl in a bikini runs by and a person in a gorilla suit follows shortly behind. Matt laughs along with everyone else, and I’m lost in the humor. Maybe it’s a rich people thing.

 

 

ALL THE LIGHTS ARE ON
at Toby’s when I park next to Kip’s truck, and I note the absence of Dan's van. Even when we're closed, he's usually here doing stuff. I hear Taylor talking when I enter the shop. His office door is open, letting his voice echo along the walls.

“I agreed to the job on one condition, and that was that Lilly wouldn’t have a part of it.” Kip yells over Taylor’s voice.

“She's not going to agree to that.”

“It’s not her decision; it’s mine.”

I knock on the open door, letting them know I arrived. “What’s going on?”

Kip's face is so red I know he is beyond the stage of irritated and crossed into pissed off territory. “You’re not running the cars for him.” Kip points at me, drilling in his point.

I look at Taylor for more clarification. “Kip, we need her. There’s no one else we trust enough to do it.”

“Do what?”

Kip’s face is pained as Taylor describes it to me. “Our first order is due in 24 hours. That’s by midnight tomorrow. The car is scheduled to be in valet parking from about nine to midnight at a charity event at the LeRouge.”

“It doesn’t have to be her,” Kip seethes through his teeth.

Taylor continues, “We originally planned that Dan and Ethan would go on the first run. This being unknown territory, we didn’t want to put you on the front line. However,” Taylor draws out. “It’s a black tie event. Ethan isn’t old enough to attend, and Dan doesn’t look the part.”

“I’ll go.” Kip says it like he’s already repeated it multiple times.

“It’s too risky for one man. And no offense, but you don’t scream upstanding citizen, either.”

Taylor is right. The harsh lines that outline Kip’s features can only be a side effect of carrying a stressful life. It doesn’t say money. “Then we don’t do it,” Kip says in finality.

Taylor scoffs. “It’s an Italia. That’s 100k, Kip. Even you’re not stupid enough to pass this up.”

“A Ferrari?” The office goes quiet at the entrance of Justin.

“You called him in?” Kip looks at me accusingly.

“I did,” Taylor interjects, daring Kip to challenge his authority. “I would never send Lilly in by herself.”

“I would like to think you wouldn't send her in at all.”

“This is the info we’ve received on it.” Taylor hands Justin an envelope.

Justin leans against the wall next to me and pulls out the contents. Images of a bright yellow Ferrari Italia covers the first page. He shuffles through more, giving an outline of the building and parking garage. The last page lists some employees and valets who are staff that night. He dumps the envelope over and lets a clicker fall into his palm.

“This is detailed,” Justin says, stuffing the papers and key back into the envelope. “How does he get this information?”

“Don’t know, but that’s not our job to worry about.”

Kip looks at me in aspiration. He really can’t believe Taylor’s comprehension of the entire deal. Justin looks to me. “It’s your decision. I’ll do whatever you want.”

I blow out a mouth full of air. “It’s going to be hard to pull off.” Justin nods in agreement. “How is the money split?”

“Right off the bat fifty goes to you and Justin. That’s twenty-five grand a piece. The remainder will be split between the rest of us. Ethan, Dan, Kip, and myself. The same will go on the next run.”

“Lilly—”

“It's my decision, Kip.”

He sighs, taking the package from Justin and handing it to me. “Study this. Detail it. Know every camera angle, every shift change, everything. Do you hear me?”

“I didn’t agree—”

“I know you. You can’t turn it down and I don’t blame you. But this is your only run. After this, no more.” Kip hands me the envelope and looks to Justin. “I’m trusting you to protect her.”

I’ve never seen Justin look more serious than when he nods at Kip in understanding. Kip leaves without another word.

“He’ll come around,” Taylor says, trying to convince himself. “Once the money starts coming in, he’ll be thanking me.”

“We’re going to need dress attire,” Justin says.

I nod. “I’m sure Kaley has something I can wear.”

Taylor pulls a couple of hundreds from his wallet and hands them to Justin. “Go rent a tux. Something designer.”

Justin nods and walks out, leaving me alone with Taylor, when a thought occurs. “What about traffic cameras? Driving a bright yellow sports car through downtown is going to be obvious.”

“Not once you're over the river,” he says. “There aren’t a lot of taxpayers on this side, and once you're out of the city, there's not a business for miles.”

The hypothetical aspect of simply driving a car from one destination to another seems simple enough, but there are so many factors at play that make it high risk. And essentially, when it comes down to it, if we're caught, whoever is driving the vehicle is going down for it.

Not Taylor.

So I'm not sure whether I believe him. I'm starting to see Kip's reluctance. Taylor's pushing more than normal.

 

 

I DON’T KNOCK AS I WALK
into Justin’s apartment, past the point of niceties. He looks up from his stance at the breakfast bar, a beer settled in front of him, evidently waiting on me to show. He downs half the bottle in the time it takes me to walk toward him. Passing him, I open the refrigerator and retrieve a water. He shuffles around the envelope’s contents, spreading out the paperwork one by one.

“I think we need to start with the layout of the parking garage,” I say, leaning against the counter. “Ins and outs, cameras.”

He braces his palms on the counter. “Where were you?”

Confused, I screw the lid back on my nearly full water bottle. “What?”

He shifts a picture over, pretending to inspect it. “Before Taylor texted you.”

I shake my head and look back at the papers in front of us. “Justin, we really need to study—”

He turns to face me. “At least tell me why you look so nice.” He picks up a strand of my hair and lets it fall between his fingers.

I wore it down for the party instead of in my usual ponytail. The amount of effort I put into it is laughable in comparison to the other girls there. It only adds to the reminder of who I am not.

“Were you on a date?”

I slam my hand down. “Good God, Justin. Can we focus on the job at hand? This isn’t child’s play.”

“I feel like it is,” he says, leaning into me. “When I had you right here…” He points to the counter. “Right here two weeks ago.”

My face is hot from anger. I know he’s trying to rile me up. He’s picking a fight and I’m not going to give it to him. Instead, I point to the exit ramp on the garage blueprints. “The entrance requires a keycard, but the exit ramp is pressure activated. No keycard or security access needed to get out, just in.”

His eyes are like flint when he takes a step back, finishing off his beer and slamming the bottle down on the counter. He disappears into his room and shuts the door. A minute later I hear the water cut on in his bathroom and I sigh, relieved to have a reprieve. I take a few breaths and steady my racing heart. It’s so hard to not fight back. It’s easy to give in to the hope that comes with fighting him. It’s harder to be indifferent.

I pull my hair back and settle myself onto one of the barstools, determined to focus. I study the entire garage and bottom floor of the hotel. The shift changes and breaks are scheduled upon request or when slow. There are always at least two valets manning the front entrance, three when busy. The only way into the parking garage is through the front with a keycard, and it’s a huge cause of worry. One camera points at the front entrance and one at the rear. The lone camera in the garage is pointed in the general direction of the cars but far enough away to get away without being pictured. I check the employee staff rooms and see that those are void of any surveillance.

The water shuts off from the other side of the wall, and I brace myself for his reemergence. There’s shuffling, drawers opening and closing, and then his door opens. He runs his hands through his hair a few times before settling onto the stool in front of me.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

I nod. “Okay.”

He pulls my notes toward him. “This is all based on circumstance.”

“I know, but it’s the best I can come up with.”

“There are too many variables.”

“Fine,” I say. “You come up with something better.”

His eyes stray and linger on me, noting how I put my hair up, before he squeezes them shut. “Jesus Christ…”

I give him a sad smile. “You can’t leave it alone, can you?”

He rubs his fingers over his eyes. “At least tell me if you were with him.”

“No.”

“No you weren’t or no you won’t tell me?”

I’m silent and he throws his hands up. He stands, once again retrieving a beer. On his way back, he grabs me by the waist, spinning me around until I’m facing him in his arms. My arms are pinned between us as he leans us back against the counter. My heart thumps furiously in my chest. I want him to lean me back like last time. I want it so bad I can feel my knees shaking.

His lips are so close to mine that I don’t dare move because I can almost taste him. “When he touches you, think about how you feel right now. Does he make you want him like I do? Does he make it hard to breathe because you’re scared you’ll give in? Do you want to give in?”

He presses his lips to mine for a split second, enough for me to think he’s really going to kiss me, and then he pulls back just out of reach. I place my hands on his chest, feeling his heartbeat as his breathing increases under his shirt.

“Bastard.” I push him back.

He pulls my face to his. “I know,” he says. He pushes his lips into mine. It’s the same desperate need as last time but stronger. This time we’ve had a foretaste of what we’re like together, and it only adds more fuel to the fire.

I gather more willpower than I knew I had, and I push him away, covering my mouth from his onslaught. “No, you don’t get to do this. It’s not fair to me.”

“You have no idea what’s not fair.”

“What do you want from me?” I yell. It makes my throat raw and I’m immediately ashamed of my emotional outburst. I turn away from him, trying to gain control of myself.

“Hey.” Justin follows me through the living room. “Lilly.”

“I’ll meet you here tomorrow,” I say, picking my keys up off the coffee table. “If you come up with something better, let me know.”

“Lilly, wait. Please, let me explain.” His hand appears from behind me, shutting the door when I try to open it. “I’m sorry. I know this isn’t any easier for you than it is for me.”

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