Stepbrother Thief(24)

“Thanks,” I say tentatively, wondering why Gill himself hasn't taken up residence in the master. There's a king-sized bed in here, a nightstand, a dresser, and two chairs in the sitting room with a coffee table between them. Otherwise, it's empty. I mean completely empty. No pictures, no vases, no lamps, nothing but two white pillows and a white duvet on the bed.

Gilleon's room, on the other hand, has a mussed up bed, a closet full of clothes, a rug, some pictures of his dad, of Solène … of me. I almost took that one back, confiscated it and shoved it to the bottom of my shopping bags so I didn't have to look at it. For whatever reason, Gill has a family portrait sitting on his dresser—a shot of my mom, Cliff, me, and him at our parents' wedding.

I'm so confused right now.

“I'm gonna lie down and take a quick nap,” I tell Cliff and retreat back into my room, closing the door behind me. A quick glance out the curtain-free windows shows me Gilleon standing on the lawn, his cell pressed to his ear as he paces back and forth and talks to God only knows who. I wonder what the neighbors here think of him, this big, burly guy with his steel toed boots and his mean face.

Like he can sense me looking his way, Gill turns and glances up at my window, forcing me to take a step back. Shivers break across my skin.

I shake out my hands and take a deep breath, sitting down on the edge of the bed and pulling off my new boots. Even though I thoroughly washed my hands and picked out the bits of grit and rocks that had stuck in my open wounds, every little movement of my fingers hurts. I grit my teeth and toss the shoes to the floor, slipping out of my new jeans and double-checking to make sure I locked the door before I slip out of my bra and decide on just the tee and panties. In my desperation to build up a new wardrobe, I forgot about pajamas entirely. Oh well.

I pause on my way to the bathroom, my eyes catching on my purse. The sight of my mother in her chic white wedding dress, her eyes sparkling with happiness … I find myself drawn to the bag, taking it back to the bed and dumping it out on the white comforter. Every picture I have of her is with me, every piece of jewelry, a few pieces of paper with her handwriting on them. The big things, the ones I knew I couldn't take with me, like my mother's vintage nightstand with the hand-carved roses, I finally gave in and sold them to some friends of mine in Paris. I bought new chairs, just to keep up the illusion that everything was fine, everything was normal.

I shift through the photos with a sad smile on my face, trying really, really hard not to miss my dad or my sister or … Gill. I shove the pictures away and pick up the diamond pendant necklace, lacing it around my throat and struggling with the clasp for a moment before I finally get it in place. I wasn't sure if I'd have the stomach to wear diamonds after the heist—it just felt distasteful—but this piece … it holds too many good memories to be tainted.

“What would you have to say about all this, Mom?” I ask the necklace, fingering the diamond between my injured fingers. “About Gill leaving? About the heist? About …” I can't even make my lips form the words that I want to say. Instead, I let the subject drop and curl into a ball on the bed. Outside, the rain starts up again and batters the windows, lulling me into a deep but fitful sleep.



I open the door to my apartment, hands trembling. Behind me, Gill says nothing, acting as if this is all for real, every single second of it.

“Take yourself there, Regina, and let yourself believe it. If you do, then so will they.”

That's what he'd said last week when we'd gone over the plan again. And again. And again.

So. Gill is going to abduct me at gunpoint, walk me to the store where I'm suppose to open for the morning, and use me to find the safe. The security guards who're supposed to be on duty, and the ones who are supposed to switch shifts with them, have already been dealt with.

Dealt with.

When Gill had first said those words to me, I'd trembled in my seat. I know it seems silly to be afraid of someone that I was once so close with but … there's something different about Gill's face now, some emptiness that I feel could swallow him whole and leave him a barren black nothing.

I don't say anything though, don't let my memories overwhelm me, and glance over my shoulder. Sure enough, Gill's gun is hidden in the folds of his coat and I can't see a thing. We'll make it to the store without anyone realizing what's going on.

“Why vintage jewelry?” I'd asked Gill when he'd come to me and started to explain his plan. He and his crew would rob my store, whether I was involved or not, but if I helped, if I made things just that much easier for them, he'd give me a cut, give me a new life in the States where I'd never have to worry about money again.