by Paula Cox
When the door shuts, I do my best to act casual. I do what I always do; sink into the leather chair near the door, with my hands running up and down the sides of the upholstery. I take a deep breath. I need my head to be as clear as I can get it.
“I need you to take Aimee on a job tonight.”
“Tonight? You think it’s a little late to be running marks at the mall? And what happened to me no longer working with her? I’m not exactly eager for her to make a dumb ass mistake and get me hauled away in some cop car tonight.” That’s it. I need to keep him on track, remind him that she isn’t as good as he thinks she is.
But maybe that’s his end game.
“It’s not civilians. I need her to rob someone else.” His eyebrow rises as he fingers a file sitting on his desk. “I got some intel on Vice and the Devil’s Fighters.”
“What?” I ask, the word stuck in my throat. Vice Elroy is one of the most feared bikers in the West. His club, the Devil’s Fighters, is another group of roamers. They travel with just a small band of guys, elites in our books. They perform high-risk jobs like heisting a bank or selling quality coke and then skip town before they can be tracked. The Feds have wanted them for years. We have wanted them for longer.
The last time we saw them was when Biggs had Aimee pulled that bank job on them. I had hoped it would be the last. Now it seems like Biggs has other plans for us.
Biggs can sense my mouth watering over this. “They’re in town for some business.” He looks at me with both eyebrows raised this time. The way he says business makes the hair on my neck stand straight up. “What I need you to do is bring Aimee to a drop point, have her get into his safe and take the cash. It should be at least thirty Gs. I know they finished a job just last week with at least that much.”
“Wait,” I say, stopping him as he contemplates. “You want to send Aimee into their den, grab an insane amount of cash, and get her out of there alive? You have to be fucking kidding me. There’s no way. No way!”
“That’s the point, Breaker. I don’t care what happens to her. All that I care about is that cash. You too. Alive or dead. It doesn’t matter, but don’t even think about coming back to the Gravediggers without thirty Gs in unmarked bills and Vice on your tail.”
“You’re insane. You can’t—”
Biggs stares me down, towering over me as he points a chubby, hangnail finger into my face. “You think I can’t do this? You’re fucking wrong. You may have been able to pull off that shit with Henry and break into my office, but you don’t dare cross me and then pretend everything is all fucking hunky-dory without getting put to the fire first. Prove you’re loyal, get the job done, and we’ll talk.”
He opens the door. The sounds of the bar explode into the room, but all I can hear is the rush of blood through my ears. In my peripheral, Aimee stands just across the way. Her hands run through her hair, sweeping it back. She looks hopeful, but I know the truth.
We’re walking to our deaths together.
Chapter Nineteen
Aimee
I can’t seem to find my balance. I grip the wall of the bar while the weight on my chest presses down on me. My voice shakes as I squeak out, “Vice? The Devil’s Fighters?”
“Yeah.” Breaker takes a drag on a cigarette. I’ve never seen him smoke before. I don’t even know where he got it. But he puffs it heavily, breathing it out through gritted teeth. Even in the hot Texas air, the smoke rings linger in the space between us. He hasn’t moved closer to me since he walked out of Biggs’ office. It’s as if I’m a bomb about to go off.
He drops the cigarette to the ground and looks back up at me, his head slightly cocked, “Do you know who he is?”
“Of course I know who he is, Breaker! Everyone in our circles knows who he is! Plus, you forget that we pulled that job on his lackey just a month or so ago?”
Does he really think I am that ignorant, or is he trying to soften the blow? The way he’s acting with everything so close to his chest, I can’t tell.
“It’s what we have to do, Aimee. I don’t know what to tell you. We robbed him once, maybe it won’t be so bad the second time around.”
“How much?”
“What?” He looks down at his feet, already giving me the answer.
“HOW MUCH, BREAKER?”
“Thirty thousand,” he mutters under his breath. “From their safe.”
I spin on my heels as I face the empty parking lot. Looking up towards the darkened sky, I let out the longest, loudest scream I can muster. My throat and lungs begin to burn, but damn does it feel good. I don’t care what Breaker thinks or if anyone can hear or me. This is what I need.
When I’m done, I run my fingers through my coarse hair. A small thought pops into my head about needing to re-dye my hair, but I don’t let it linger. I need to focus on the present now, and about surviving tonight. I know that my reality runs even deeper, though. If I don’t get this job done, Biggs won’t just kill me. He’ll take out Breaker as well. He’s shown his teeth, and now he is coming in for the bite.
“We need to go, Aimee.” I don’t even notice his hand around my bare arm, tugging me back toward the other end of the lot. “We can figure something out when we get there. But it’s not safe for us to be here, having this conversation.” He looks over his shoulder toward the open back door of the bar. Who knows who is real friends are, and who we can trust. It was a lion’s den in there.
I nod my head slightly and walk, nearly floating off the ground, towards the same truck we’ve been driving since he dropped me off hours ago. I scoot into the seat with my hands rubbing up against the worn down leather. I pick at the small holes as we take off towards an address on a piece of paper Biggs gave to Breaker when he told him the job.
It’s a tired looking old office building that reminds me of the place the Gravediggers were in when I attempted to rob them. It has busted out windows that are boarded up with plywood. In other spots, furniture has been pushed up against the shattered green, white, and red panes. I can only guess that this was an old factory that was later allowed to operate under the radar as a club location when the Devil’s come to town to do their business.
“Makes me glad we got the bar,” Breaker says as he parks the truck and turns off the lights. We’re sitting about a block away from the building’s entrance. Breaker leans his seat back just enough so that his face is covered by the edge of the window. Even the shadows cast long over his chest and arms as if he has melted into his seat. I follow suit. He obviously knows what he is doing.
A long moment passes where we lock eyes without saying a word. Our bodies turn toward each other, as his hand floats to the center section separating us but then falls back down to the seat. I want to reach out and touch him—to have him comfort me—but I can’t. My hands stay folded under my head, making a small pillow for my cheek.
Breaker finally clears his throat. “When you were trying to rob us the last time, how did you do it? How did you get in?”
“I pretended to be a girl with the club. Put my hood up, stood a few feet behind everyone, and just floated on in. Someone asked me what I was doing when I got up the stairs, but I just said I was visiting Biggs and gave him a wink. He didn’t even register me.”
That day feels like forever ago, but it’s only been a month. So much has changed, and yet, so much has remained the same. A smile escapes Breaker’s weather worn face, and I wonder if he’s thinking the same thing too. How I laid under his bed while he screwed that chick, how we fought for days over silly things like me complaining that the seat on the motorcycle was too hot, and how the first time we had sex all ears were on us.
“That’s what you should do, Aimee.” Breaker slides up in his chair just enough so that I can see those dark eyes flame to life. “One of the intel pieces that Biggs gave me was that he’s got some girls running the streets. They check in every three hours unless they’re on a job. You go in. Give them some money. And make some excuse to slip away to the fourth floo
r where they keep the safe in Vice’s office. He should be out tonight. That’s what Biggs mentioned, but you can pretend to be surprising him.”
I lift up a little in my seat to get a better glimpse of the building’s lot. The intel is right. A small group of women huddles together outside the building. They’re flanked by a few guys staring down at their phones. It wouldn’t be too hard to get past them or look as if I was meant to be there all along.
“Yeah?” I think it over quickly, running through this plan in my head. It’s risky, but all my best ones are. In most situations, one distracted guard, usually by a flash of tits and ass, was enough to pull through.
“I’ll get myself on the first floor, with the truck for a quick getaway. If I can find a way in, I’ll attempt to meet you up there to help you pick the safe. If not, you’re going to have to drag it down yourself and meet me outside without anyone seeing you.”
I roll my eyes as I mutter to myself, “It sounds so easy.”
“It is, Aimee. For a master like you, this should be nothing.”
I know he’s trying to amp me up, but the sinking brick in my stomach feels as if it’s weighing me down into the seat. I shudder a little, even when his hands grasp my shoulders.
“Come on. I know you. I know what you’re capable of, and this is something we both know you can and will do. Just keep your head down, and we’ll get out of this with that safe,” he says.
I close my eyes, visualizing the plan again, and then, I make my first move. With one swift motion, I manage to yank my bra off of my chest, pulling it out of the bottom of my shirt. Breaker stares at me in complete wonder as I place the lingerie on his lap.
“If I’m going to be believable as a hooker, I better start here.”
He licks his lips as he tosses the cream-colored bra onto the dashboard.
***
“Girl, I had the best night ever.” This woman will not shut up. “I made at least a grand. Vice is gonna love me for that.”
“Vice doesn’t even know who you are, Sissy.” Her friend crosses her arms over her large, smooshed up boobs as she laughs to herself.
“Oh shut the hell up, Kelly. He does too. I’ve slept with him more than you have.”
“You’ve slept with everyone more than I have. That’s why the boys call you ‘Stretch!’” The small group of girls chuckles to themselves, and the line moves up slowly as another girl disappears into the back room.
I feel a warm breath against my ear, making the hairs stand up on end. “It’s like this every night.”
“Huh?” I ask, turning around. The girl behind me has to be at least five or six years younger than me, but she looks dead tired. She holds a pair of sky-high heels around her fingertips as she gnashes on a piece of gum.
“Your first night, right? I’ve never seen you around before. I heard we picked up a girl here in Texas, but I thought she wasn’t going to be here for a few more days…”
My mind goes back to that email. Vice’s name was on that email thread. It had to be. Maybe the deal was already sealed, and this was just another part of Biggs’ plan that I hadn’t considered.
I try to think this thing through, but the chick won’t stop repeating her question. “How much did you pull?”
“Three hundred and ninety bucks,” I say, holding up a small wad of bills in my hand. It was all Breaker had in the truck.
“That ain’t too bad for your first night. You’ll get more when the boys start lining up clients for you. Plus, with an ass like yours, that won’t be for long.”
I try to zone in on the man standing a few girls in front of me. He’s holding a clipboard and an envelope, taking names and numbers.
The girl keeps talking. “What’s your name?”
“Aim—” I stop, catching myself before I reveal something stupid. “Tessa,” I amend quickly, “I’m Tessa.”
“Tessa? Pretty name. I’m April. You need a street name, though. All us girls use different names. I’m Birdie. You already met Sissy and her friend Kelly.” She appears to think for a second before adding, “You look like this girl we used to have. We left her at our last stop… I think her name was Minnie. Like Minnie Mouse.”
“Minnie?” I repeat. “That’s good. I like that.”
If I use another girl’s name, this guard may let me slide without noticing that I’m not who I’m about to say I am. He’s barely looked up from the clipboard. It’s worth a shot.
My hands shake as I get closer to the front of the line. Sissy goes next, handing the guard a huge wad of cash. Kelly stands behind her, shaking her head in clear disbelief.
“Two thousand bucks, ladies!” Sissy shouts! “I’m going platinum tonight!”
April leans in again to explain, “Platinum is when Vice invites the girl that does a two Gs night up to his office. I’ve never been. I heard it’s just champagne and, well, you know…”
“Name!” the guard suddenly shouts at me.
“Minnie.” I barely get the name out in time. I’m almost there.
He runs his hand down the line of names. Thank God—it stops near the bottom where there’s an ‘X’ in the column. “How much?”
I hand him the money, being careful not to touch his dirty little fingers. “Three ninety.”
His eyes glance up slightly, giving me enough time to turn back towards April. Still, he doesn’t pick up that I’m not the original Minnie. “That’s low. You know what happens when you get two nights under five hundred,” he scolds me, still with that booming voice.
“Yeah. I know.” I have zero idea, but something tells me I want to be far away if that happens. He shoos me back towards the group of women where Sissy and Kelly continue to fight.
When April joins us, I ask, “Where can I go to the bathroom here? Is there a place inside I can freshen up?”
“Uh. Yeah. They didn’t bring you to your dorm yet? That’s strange. It’s up on the third floor. We all stay there, but the doors are locked.”
I hate to do this to poor, dim April, but I ask, “Can you come up there with me? I hate going to the bathroom alone.”
“Nah. I can’t, but don’t worry! The bathroom’s not hard to find at all. Just don’t get caught. They’d kill us if they found you in there when you should be out working.”
“Oh.” I smile. “You’re the best. Thanks, April.”
She opens the door to the building for me and points towards an unmanned stairwell. With a few vague directions, I’m off, sprinting up the metal stairs as lightly as possible. The metal rattles under my feet, but at least I’ll be able to hear when anyone else comes and goes.
I push past the third floor, around the bathroom where I see the room the girls stay in. Like an observation room, there are windows everywhere with only two doors on each side. Inside are rows of cots, each decorated with their own blanket, pillow, and personal items. My heart breaks for girls like April. I have no idea how they got themselves here. I just know I don’t want to be either.
Once I reach the fourth floor, I push the heavy metal fire door ajar. Lying on top of the first few stairs, I watch two sets of feet pace outside the door. There are no weapons, but one man has his hand on his pocket, feeling the bulge of the gun tucked away.
“What time does Vice get back?”
“An hour, he said.”
“One of the girls hit platinum. Tony just called it up.”
“He’ll be glad about that. Boss hasn’t gotten puss—” He suddenly stops when he notices me standing in the doorway, my arms outstretched to hold it open. “Who the hell are you?”
“Sissy,” I say, with confidence and a sultry smile, trying to emulate the girl’s voice as best as possible. A thing like her was probably widely known by these guys. “I hit platinum. I’m sure you heard. I want my champagne.”
The men eye one another. The second one seems to sense something, but he’s too dumb to go much beyond that. “You usually don’t come up until after your shift is done,” he says.
�
��I know, I know. But I’m eager and so, so, sore.” I walk towards him and place my hands on his chest. My braless press against him. He stiffens under my touch. “I guess I could wait…”
“No,” he answers with an unsteady voice. “Just go in.” He even opens the door for me. What a gentleman… I almost can’t believe it. I give both of them a show of my ass as I strut towards the door, making sure they get their money’s worth. After I pull this off, who knows what’s going to happen to the girls who inadvertently aided me.
I sit myself down on a long leather couch and flick on one of the lamps. The man holding the door smiles and then shuts it behind me. I listen to them for a short time, laughing to themselves while describing my “tight” body and how I’m just Vice’s type.