At the end of the night, Rush had slipped Ricky a napkin with his number on it, a gleam in his eye. She’d taken it coolly, with a smile, shoving it into her back pocket. Now, she sat with that napkin in her hands, turning it over and over.
She wanted to call him. She wanted to call him and see if he was as good in a bed as he was in a bathroom. And he wouldn’t have given her the number in the first place if he hadn’t wanted her to call. Still, something held her back. Something she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She thought maybe she was worried she would get attached – but she didn’t really think she would. And if she did, so what? Hearts are broken every day. Did that really give her a good excuse to miss out on what might just be the best sex of her life?
Not according to Sasha, who had encouraged Ricky to make the call every day since.
No, when Ricky was really being honest with herself, she knew it was nothing like that. She was worried about something, sure, but it wasn’t that.
It was who she was. And who he was. And knowing that if she did this, called him, went to him, let him fuck her senseless…well, it wouldn’t just be some happenstance meeting in a bathroom bar. It’d be a proactive decision, it’d be her taking a chance, taking control of something in her life, giving herself permission to be everything her parents feared most.
She’d be giving herself permission to have an adventure.
And though college had changed her, she was still young enough to be afraid of that.
Closing her eyes and drawing her feet in close, she made a Christmas wish. Of course, it wasn’t the kind that Santa could ever wrap up and put in a stocking, not that she believed in that anymore, anyway. But it seemed right, at the time, what with the clock about to chime midnight and all.
Let me be brave, she thought to herself. Let me be bold and daring and brave and have an adventure I’ll never forget.
And then a thousand things happened all at once.
The clock struck midnight. A loud banging noise came from the front hall. Wind rushed through the house. And Ricky’s heart almost stopped.
***
Squinting up at the lavish mansion, Rush waited for Tech to give the go-ahead. The aptly named whiz kid was hunched over a tiny computer, numbers flashing across the screen. He was humming a Christmas tune as he worked, something inanely catchy that Rush was sure to be hearing in his own head for the next week.
“Alright, guys, you’re in,” Tech finally said with a resolute click on the keyboard. “Security’s down, you’re all clear.”
“Solid,” Rush said. “We’re out, Booker. Keep ‘er running, I’ll beep ya when we’re ready,” he said, leaning forward to speak to the driver, who acknowledged him with a two-finger salute before turning the keys in the ignition. Rush, Hawk, and Crooks slunk from the van, shutting the doors silently and hustling forward in the cold December night.
The lock on the door was no issue that Crooks’ tool belt couldn’t fix, but as the lock clattered to the floor beyond Rush cringed. That was always the worst of it; if anyone heard that, whether it was a light sleeper or a father still laying out Santa’s bounty, they’d have to make a hell of a run for it. But there was nothing for it but to go in.
The grandiose front hall was dim, but he could see poinsettias and ivy all along the halls. As the trio crept forward, each holding a sack, he made for the soft glow creeping around a doorway across from a large staircase. Keeping close to the wall, he peered around; the coast seemed clear enough, and he waved his comrades in, walking through the eave and having to stifle a cry of satisfaction.
That was one hell of a bounty.
If they hadn’t already safely put two houses behind them, this haul alone would have made the night worthwhile. The three men made their way to the tree, Hawk stopping to lift the heavy stockings from the wall and slide them into his sack. Working quickly and quietly, they filled their bags with the tinsel-wrapped, bow-adorned gifts.
And then Rush heard a click that he knew all too well.
His balls nearly jumped up to his stomach, his skin breaking out in a cold sweat. Slowly, he turned in the direction of the noise.
“Don’t move,” a voice whispered from behind the barrel of a gun. Rush’s jaw dropped, and a part of him wanted to laugh. He knew that voice. He knew that face. He knew that body, too.
“Listen, I don’t want any trouble, so just leave the stuff and get out, please,” she said, her voice firm with only the slightest hint of a quiver. She was holding the pistol steady, too; if he hadn’t been blown away by her behavior at the bar, he certainly was now.
“Ricky,” he said, keeping his own voice low. He watched her eyes widen, the gun moving down slightly as she leaned forward, trying to get a better look at him. Fat chance; his ski mask made it impossible to tell who he was. In the long moment that followed, he had to make a decision. Follow what she said, leave, and have that be it, count it as a loss; or reveal himself, and hope for the best.
He knew, in his logical mind, which choice was less likely to get him jailed on Christmas morning.
But somewhere deep down, he had a very different idea of what the girl in front of him would do if he revealed himself.
“How do you know my name?” she asked, lifting the gun again, though now it did shake slightly in her hand. That shaking was what finally decided it; he didn’t trust that she might not get scared at the last minute and slip her finger on that trigger.
“Ricky, it’s me,” he said, lifting his hands slowly, palms open to show he was unarmed. Grabbing the bottom of his mask, he pulled it above his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Crooks’ incredulous stare through the eye opening of his mask.
“Rush!” Ricky said all in a breath, and he quickly made a shushing gesture. The gun fell to her side, her mouth going slack as she looked at him bewildered.
“What…what is…holy shit! What are you doing?!” she whispered, stepping forward, gun still in hand.
“What does it look like?” he said. “I told you what kinda guy I am, Ricky.”
He could see her eyes wavering from confusion to understanding to denial to acceptance – finally stalling somewhere in the middle of it all. He still held his hands open.
“Now, we’re gonna go, okay? We’re just gonna slip out, no harm done, okay?” he said, stepping back. He heard Crooks and Hawk moving behind him, their bags dropped to the ground full of the would-be bounty. Ricky’s eyes flashed in the glowing lights, taking in the scene, the shadowy figures and their dark intentions. And then, suddenly, that barrel was pointed straight at Rush once more. His arms flew up, and Hawk and Crooks froze in their places.
“Oh no you’re not,” she said, her voice a strangely throaty hiss. “I don’t know what you’re planning on doing with all my family’s shit but…but…”
She seemed to struggle with some deep confusion, some internal struggle. But when she spoke again, it was confident.
“But it’s probably better than what we’d do with it. Pick up those bags,” she said, gesturing vaguely with the gun. No one moved. “I’m serious.”
Behind him, Rush’s buddies did as she said, in a hurry, too.
“And I’m coming with you,” she said.
“Come on, Ricky,” Rush said, incredulous now. “You don’t want…”
“Sure I do,” she said, and in the dark he could see the slight gleam of her teeth as she smiled. “In fact, I was just thinking about something like this.”
“Ricky, that’s insane,” Rush said, stepping forward, sure that he’d really done it now. Why couldn’t he ever see crazy before he stuck his dick in it? “What do you think this is? A boy scout trip?”
That gleam of a smile disappeared, and there was just her eyes reflecting the twinkling lights.
“Take me with you or I scream,” she said, and he knew she meant it. “And this whole house wakes up.”
Baffled and backed up against the corner, Rush had no choice. He dropped his arms, an elaborate shrug.
“Alright, you crazy bitch,” he said. “Alright! But we’re going right fucking now. And whatever you think is gonna happen…well, what do you think is gonna happen?”
That gleam of teeth again.
“I won’t get in the way, Rush,” she said. “I promise. I just want to finish what we started back in that bar. That’s my Christmas wish.”
At the memory, Rush’s cock jerked to life. Damn it. The girl was psycho, but she still got his blood pumping. And the fucking he’d give her as payback for this little stunt? Well, he was sure it’d be one to remember. Frustrated but slightly amused despite himself, he made an after-you gesture towards the door. As she brushed past him, gun still in her hand, she leaned in close. She smelled like peppermint and chocolate.
“What was that thing you said about patience?” she whispered upwards. “Guess I don’t have much of it, either.”
And with that, she was gone, out through the eaves and down the hallway. Turning with a groan, he was met with dumbfounded, inquisitive stares. He growled at them and shooed them away; they’d have time to discuss it all back in the van. Reaching into his pocket, he clicked his two-way, telling Booker to bring the van around.
Outside, as the door swung shut behind them, Rush examined Ricky’s poor wardrobe choices. She shivered in the cold Connecticut night air, wearing only a pair of festive-looking leggings, some fuzzy socks, and a long sweater. Grunting and annoyed, yet still compassionate enough to hate her shivering, he unshouldered his own heavy winter coat and draped it around her shoulders. She looked up in surprise, her mouth opening in a warm smile.
The headlights turned the corner of the wraparound driveway and the four figures shuffled down as the back doors of the van swung open. Each man hoisted his sack inside, then crawled in behind it, Ricky taking the rear. With a click, the doors shut, and the van peeled away, silent as the grave.
“What the fuck is this?” Tech said, eying the girl.
“Yeah, Rush, what in the actual fuck?” Crooks added his voice to the shouting melee, pulling off his ski mask, face red with anger.
“What the hell was I supposed to do?” Rush said, snarling. “You saw what happened!”
“Um, I’m right here,” Ricky voiced petulantly, crouched on the side of the van. “You don’t have to talk about me like I’m not. I’m Ricky,” she said, putting her hand out in Tech’s direction. “Nice to meet you.”
Dumbfounded, the younger man took her hand in his and shook it before turning back to Rush.
“Was this part of your haul tonight, Rush?”
Rush grumbled, shot him a warning glance.
“It was my idea,” Ricky chimed in. “I made him take me. You don’t have to worry; I’m not going to, like, rat on you or anything. I just got tired of sitting all alone in that house.”
“You got tired of sitting alone in your house, so you decided to hitch a ride with the men robbing it?” Hawk said, mouth hanging open in wonder. His eyes flicked towards Rush. “She’s crazy. We’ve got a crazy person on board. Holy fuck…”
Rush eyed Ricky. Now, with the light on in the back of the van, he could actually see her clearly. Her eyes seemed to implore him, beg him for something.
“She had a gun,” he said, turning back to the group. “And she said she’d scream. Nothing I could do for it.”
Crooks, who had begun to fish through his bag of stolen gifts, muttered something underneath his breath.
“What was that?” Rush asked, believing he’d heard a few choice words in that mumbled statement. Crooks looked back at him, eyes flashing.
“I said, we could have knocked her out and gotten away, you chose to bring the little whore because you wanted her to suck your cock again,” Crooks said loudly. Without even thinking of what he was doing, Rush lunged forward, grabbing Crooks by the front of his jacket. He was okay with the girl being called crazy; she was. But she wasn’t a whore, and he hadn’t done what he’d done because of her oral talents, and the idea of actually hurting her made his blood boil.
“Shut your fucking trap, Crooks,” he growled, his larger figure striking immediate fear in the smaller man’s eyes. “Don’t talk shit about what you don’t know shit about.”
Releasing him, Rush settled back down across from Ricky, who was looking at him again, eyes all wide and gorgeous and wanting. He sighed, rubbing his temples.
***
“Who’s Trevor?” Hawk said suddenly, holding up a shiny, silver-wrapped package.
“My brother,” Ricky said, brows furrowing.
“How old?”
“Um…he’s like 10,” she said. “Why?”
“Alright, boys, anything for Trevor goes in the do-gooder pile,” Hawk said, tossing the package into the far right corner of the van. Ricky saw a sizable, unsteady hill of packages there. Apparently, these guys liked to separate their stolen goods by age, like a child might separate his Halloween candy by type or desirability.
“Booker,” Rush said loudly, crouching up towards the row of seats at the front of the van. “Just take me home. I got something I gotta fuckin’ deal with. No goddam eggnog for me tonight.”
“Aw, hell, Rush,” the driver said, leaning back and shouting to be heard. “We’ll miss ya. It ain’t Christmas without you playin’ Santa.”
Ricky watched the group share a smile, like brothers sharing some family secret or inside joke. She felt a strange sadness in her heart, thinking that this horde of criminals might be closer than her own family. When Rush returned, sitting across from her, she wondered if she was taking him away from his family on Christmas Eve.
“We can go,” she said. “I mean, you can go. I could, like, wait, or something. But I don’t want you to miss out on…”
He dismissed her with a wave of his hand.
“It’s too damn cold out,” he said. “And I don’t feel like explaining to the big boss why there’s a hundred-pound addition to our yearly take.”
The men were busy examining the gifts one by one, pulling them out. Every once in a while, they’d toss one into the far corner. Ricky fell into a sort of dull trance, the rocking feeling of the truck as it drove lulling her mind. She could have been thinking about how she’d made a mistake, how this was stupid, how she could be setting herself up to get herself killed, or kidnapped for real, or any number of horrible outcomes.
The gun was still in the front pocket of her hooded sweater; she’d trash it before going home, and hope that her father would think it had been taken from its hiding place in the kitchen by the same men who had taken the gifts. She wondered if the police would be able to find them. The security system had never gone off when they broke in, and the security system and the house’s security cameras were all on the same line. Judging by the high-tech computer system she’d spied Tech working on, they knew what they were doing.
The van began to slow down and Rush moved forward once more, looking out the shaded windows. Turning back, he grabbed a bag.
“Alright,” he said. “I’ll drop these off tomorrow morning.”
“Sure you don’t want us to do it? Seems like you might have your hands full,” Tech said snidely, gesturing to Ricky, who watched with interest. Rush sneered at him.
“Fuck off, kid,” he said. “You guys have fun tonight.”
With the bag full and the van finally stopped, though still running, Rush crept to the back and grabbed Ricky’s hand.
“Come on, fuckin’ crazy girl,” he said, and opening the back door led her out. Looking back at the still-confused faces in the fan, she gave a half-hearted wave before the door slammed shut and the van sped off.
They were standing in front of a surprisingly nice little house; it had nothing on Ricky’s mansion, of course, but for what it was, it was nice. A little shotgun style house with big yards on either side.
“This is where you live?” she asked, surprised. Her words came with puffs of visible air. He rolled his eyes.
“What did you expect? A goddam shack?”
Ricky blushed, but followed him up the walkway and then through the door.
Flipping the light on, Ricky was equally surprised to see a small, sparsely decorated Christmas tree in the living room. Did he live here alone? Rush didn’t seem like the sort of guy who’d put up his own tree. She pointed to it and smiled.
“Nice,” she said. “Your girlfriend put that up for you?”
He scoffed once more.
“I don’t have a fucking girlfriend. What kind of guy do you think I am?”
Ricky shrugged and took in the rest of the room while Rush put the bag of gifts down in the center of the room. There wasn’t much to it; through the door at the end of the room she could see what looked like a kitchen. The living room itself had a bookshelf stocked with paperbacks and DVDs, a coffee table, a TV with a nice sound system, and a black leather sofa. And, of course, the tree in the corner.
“I need a fucking drink,” Rush said, crossing the room. He didn’t ask if she wanted one herself, but he came back with two glasses; Ricky took a sip. Gin and tonic; what she’d been drinking the night they’d met. Rush downed his in two gulps, and Ricky tried to follow suit but choked. Taking the glasses, he returned to the kitchen and came back again, both filled once more. Ricky was already feeling the effects of the first drink, though, and placed hers down on the coffee table. He studied her.
“What’s your deal, anyway, girl?” he asked, clearly less on edge now that he had some drinks in him.
“I told you in the bar. I just…I don’t get along with my family. They’re boring. I’m bored.”
He shook his head.
“Don’t you have any sense at all in you? I could kill you right here and now,” Rush said, setting his now-empty glass down beside hers. Ricky’s heart skipped slightly in her chest, but she held his gaze.
“You won’t though,” she said, sounding more confident than she felt. He raised one eyebrow.
“Why’s that?”
“Because you want me,” she said, taking a bold step further, trying to ignore the desperate beating of her own heart. “You want me and…”
ROMANCE: BAD BOY ROMANCE: Bad Boy Brother (Stepbrother Interracial College Romance) (Contemporary Stepsister Taboo Romance) Page 106