All I Want is You_A Second Chance Romance

by Carter Blake

  I’d hoped that voicing my thoughts out loud would add some weight to them.

  It doesn’t. My brow furrows in frustration, and I try to focus on what lead to my current situation.

  So she wants to be a thief. I’ll admit that she has the natural talent for it.

  Fuck, I had almost completely missed her taking off my belt.

  But is she serious about it? Or is it just something she wants to do to pass the time while we figure out this whole shady botched kidnapping and the weird conspiracy that seems to be forming up around it?

  I hear the water in the bathroom shut off.

  My fingers wrap around the neck of the Scotch, and I take another long swill of the amber liquid.

  I take a moment to relish in the smooth burn against my throat. The long smokiness and sweet citrus linger like a lover’s kiss. It doesn’t help like I hoped, but at least it gives me a sweet substitute to taste instead.

  When the door to the bathroom opens, I’m already standing in the hallway, waiting for her to emerge.

  She looks at me half confused and half wanting.

  “Were you sincere in wanting to learn how to be a thief? Or are you just bored?”

  “I was serious,” she says with conviction. “I don’t just do things out of boredom. I want this.”

  “Alright, love. Get dressed. We’re going shopping.”

  I take her to a small shopping center filled with small boutiques. Big shops are nice and all, but you don’t get the same kind of hands on customer service that you get at these shops.

  Our first stop is a favorite of mine. There’s no better place to get shoes in all of Barcelona than here.

  “So, why are we here? Are you going to steal a suit or something?”

  She sounds as though she can barely contain her excitement.

  “No, we’re not here to steal something.”

  The excitement fades from her face, giving way to confusion.

  “So then why are we here?”

  “To buy some shoes. Why else would be come to shoe store?”

  “Ummm, to steal? You’re a thief, aren’t you?” She’s obviously unimpressed and disappointed.

  “I’m a thief, but I’m a thief with a code.”

  “A code?” she asks with a raised eyebrow.

  Instead of being unimpressed and disappointed, she now looks confused and curious.

  “Yes, a gentleman’s code of honor.”

  Kalista’s hands fall to her hips and she turns to face me completely.

  “Okay, this requires some explanation.”

  “I act by a certain code. A set of rules if you will. The first rule I have is to never steal from someone who can’t afford the consequences. Like this store, for example.”

  “How is this store an example? Look at these designer shoes. The owner must make a living,” she says in a hushed whisper.

  “You know that woman who’s been helping us? Maria?”

  Kalista looks over at the dark-haired woman behind the counter, who’s been of great help since we arrived, and nods.

  “She owns this shop…has for years. She doesn’t live some upscale and luxurious life like us. She makes enough to live comfortably and to ensure her children are taken care of. To steal from her would be taking food off their plate.”

  “Alright, so what makes people like me and my family different?”

  “If I was to head Stateside and steal all of your mother’s jewelry, how would that affect your family’s bank account?”

  “It wouldn’t?”

  “Exactly. Your family is more than capable of affording the consequences. Besides, Maria has been incredibly helpful. And stealing these shoes is not only rude, it’s also beneath me.”

  There’s a slow smile that pulls at the corner of her lips as she starts to see the truth and understanding in my words.

  A lesser person would scoff and dismiss that explanation. They would try to make an argument that a thief is a thief, and that there is no honor among them. But Kalista gets it.

  “Any other rules, Robin Hood?”

  “Oh no, love. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not Robin Hood. I don’t steal from the rich to give to the poor. I steal for myself.”

  I laugh and wave my hand in dismissal of her words. My words were only a half truth, if I’m being completely honest. While I do steal for myself and use it to fund my way of life, I’m not completely selfish either.

  I’ve donated millions of my own money—anonymously mind you—to several different charities over the years, mostly to those that involve helping children. But even doing that—and saving Kalista—certainly doesn’t make me one of the good guys.

  I’m not a hero like Superman, regardless of the way she looks at me sometimes.

  “Uh huh. So what are your other rules?”

  “No weapons.”

  “No weapons? Then how do you defend yourself?”

  “I shouldn’t have to worry about defending myself if I’m doing my job correctly. Weapons invite violence, and using violence to steal is a coward’s way. There is no skill or finesse in sticking a gun in someone’s face.”

  “So it’s a matter of pride?”

  I nod and laugh. She really might be cut out for this after all.

  I’m impressed by just how quickly she gets it.

  “Now grab the shoes you like to go with that dress you picked out so we can go.”

  “Go? Go where?” Kalista’s excitement returns with force.

  Her eyes flare with barely contained exuberance. The calmness of her sapphire orbs turns to a raging sea that I feel swept up in. It reminds me of myself when I had first started in the business, learning at the hands of my mentor, Chimera.

  It’s refreshing to share in such excitement that comes with being a novice once more—almost like a reminder of why I got into this line of work the first time.

  “Well, you’ll see.”

  Kalista’s lips purse together as she sighs and narrows her gaze at me. She doesn’t like not knowing, but she has no choice but to play along.

  We get what we want and make it for our next destination.

  She looks at me surprised as we roll into the parking lot of a gym.

  “Is this your way of telling me I need to work out and tone up?”

  “Heavens no, love. You are the picture of perfection. We both know this,” I say with a wink and grin.

  There’s a soft flush in her cheeks before she clears her throat and regroups. “So why are we here?”

  “It’s simple. I’m going to teach you how to do some rock climbing.”

  “Rock climbing?” she asks with a wary smile.

  “And parkour.”

  “Do I want to know why?”

  “Well, how else are you going to learn to scale buildings?”

  Griffin

  It’s never a good thing to get a call from Leviathan, even if I asked for it.

  I’ve called him many times, requesting information on potential clients of mine. But I’ve rarely received one from him.

  Typically, if there’s nothing crucial to share, he’ll send a quick text saying, ‘all clear’, or ‘smooth sailing’.

  Calling, in general, isn’t something that he does.

  On the rare occasion that I get a call from him, he’s either awkwardly asking me for advice about a woman—or at least one he hopes to talk to, or I’m royally fucked.

  He might be the best hacker in the world, and quite possibly the smartest man I’ve ever known—but he can’t hold a conversation with a woman to save his life.

  If it wasn’t for me or Janus, he’d never get a date.

  It’s only fair, given all the times that he’s come through for me.

  Despite being the helpless nerd that he is—I’ve lost count of how many times I’ve had to save his arse from danger.

  He’s one of the best men I’ve had pleasure of knowing. Like the others in my inner circle, he’s one I consider a friend and confidant.

  Com
e to think of it, maybe I’ve rescued the damsel in distress before...just not your typical damsel.

  He’s more like the damsel who conforms to the hacker stereotype: awkward, anxious, conspiratorial, and nerdy. His red hair, thick-rimmed glasses, and lean frame solidifies the role more so.

  But thanks to his skills, he saved my arse many times too.

  That’s why I asked him about Kalista’s situation. I need to know if there’s chatter or rumors regarding her before we move forward.

  Any Intel he can provide will put me at ease—whether good or bad.

  I’m confident we have nothing to worry about—so far. We’ve been smart, and I’ve made sure to cover our tracks.

  Disguising Kalista to avoid any unwarranted speculation has also come in handy too.

  My concern isn’t that they have found us. No, it’s with what her parents are doing and how that’s impacting her value within the criminal networks.

  I’m familiar with how people of their circumstance deal with these problems.

  They raise the stakes. And the hungry salivate in response, as they only see dollar signs in their eyes.

  Like any other would be high-stake kidnapping, she becomes more and more valuable as time passes, a fact I remind myself every day.

  Though admittedly, for me, it might be for other reasons.

  But this makes having her even more dangerous—in many ways.

  I instinctively wince when I see his name pop up on my phone.

  “Gryphon,” he says sharply in his cockney accent.

  “Leviathan.”

  “That girl of yours is quite the catch,” he chuckles.

  He’s never been good at giving bad news. He always seems to think that laughing to lighten the mood will somehow make it better.

  “That I’m aware of. Anything I don’t know?”

  “It’s getting heated. And there has been a lot of chatter.”

  “Meaning?”

  His brevity is driving me fucking crazy. I’ll never understand how he can beat around the bush for as long as he can.

  “Long story short, she’s a hot commodity. And people are ruthless.”

  “How about I get the long story, Leviathan? I need to know all the details. I need to devise a plan. And to do so I need to know what I’m up against, especially before we move forward with the job in Marrakesh.”

  “Well, on the surface, the word is that she’s laying low on vacation with some friends. But everyone in our line of work knows it’s bullshit. Her botched kidnapping, and any information regarding it, is worth more than that precious Canary of hers. The reward has increased tenfold.”

  “Fuck.”

  This is what I’m afraid of.

  “The reward for her return had already been doubled, thanks to that sweet mum of hers. And the usual suspects have caught on. Mum’s indecisiveness and obvious vulnerability makes it all more appetizing for them; especially those mainly skilled in the art of battering and kidnapping.”

  I listen intently, taking in his information and what it means for her—for us.

  In pure exhaustion, I shake my head and lean my forehead against the window in front of me.

  This is the worst case scenario.

  The experienced ones and the ones known for their kidnapping―are the most dangerous. Like he said, they’re ruthless and will do almost anything to get their paycheck.

  They’ve never been above cruel and unusual punishment.

  And now that her price tag has doubled in value, she’s all more attractive to the scum of Europe.

  I’m certain they’re now prowling—foaming in the mouth even—in the hopes of getting a piece of the pie.

  “Yeah, I’d be on alert. News has spread throughout Europe. It’s not safe for her anywhere.”

  “How’d you get wind of this?”

  I usually don’t ask for his sources. And Leviathan has never been one to reveal his secrets or leads—as if he’s some kind of fucking magician.

  But this is different.

  I’m standing here with that same distressing feeling I had back at the hotel. It rubs me the wrong way and leaves me skeptical about the whole situation.

  Especially considering how quickly her ransom increased more than I’ve ever seen before in a kidnapping.

  “I have my ways, Gryphon. Let’s just say there isn’t a soul who doesn’t know of her and who isn’t interested in cashing in.”

  “Bloody hell.”

  Staring out the window, my eyes look over the bustle of the city below.

  I try to remain calm. I clench my fist, and the shot of pain helps to center myself.

  This is fucking ridiculous.

  I hear her shuffle around in the room next door—making me frustratingly aware of how precious she is, and how my role in keeping her safe has become almost impossible.

  Almost.

  “I can keep you updated on their movements. There’s another thing that might be of interest to you, though...”

  He pauses for dramatic effect.

  I hate it when he does that.

  “Leviathan, what is it?” My voice is stern.

  I have no time for games or dramatic pauses.

  “I can’t quite figure out who did this, but someone just offered a lot of money for her kidnapping.”

  “What, just now?”

  His comment confuses me and provokes a rise in anger.

  “It might seem like a usual kidnapping, ransom type of ordeal, but I’m running across some heavily-coded correspondence between a few parties. I can’t say who yet. I’m still working on that, but with this offer, it looks like there might be something bigger on your hands.”

  Clenching my fist even tighter, my knuckles become white. Anger rushes through me and my muscles tense.

  Why not add to this already fucked up situation?

  “Great, Leviathan. Keep me informed on what you uncover when you do,” I say through clenched teeth.

  “Will do.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Anytime, Gryphon.”

  I look down at my phone and exhale. I’m trying not to crush my phone in my hands.

  Hell, this woman has been more of a job than I could’ve ever imagined.

  But everything about this situation, and what Leviathan told me, affirms my decision and commitment to go to Marrakesh and take on the job.

  Once our current heist is done, I need to get her out of Europe and away from the hounds.

  This damning woman really knows how to fuck with me.

  Even if her value might be worth more than most of the jewels in the world, I find her unnervingly priceless.

  With her frustratingly brilliant mouth, determination, and tight arse—I’d rescue her.

  Time and time again.

  Kalista

  I nervously laugh as I hold onto the delicate piece of paper that fluttered from underneath my bra.

  It seems that Griff’s next lesson for me in becoming a thief is to test my perception and awareness.

  I have no idea how it got there.

  The paper is delicate and thin enough, so it’s understandable that I hadn’t noticed it was in my bra for who knows how long.

  But it tells me I’m failing this little test of Griff’s.

  It’s not the failure of noticing the paper in my bra that has my lips twisted in a wry smile.

  No, it’s the contents of what is written on the paper.

  My hands and tongue are better at this job. Mine, especially, loves to caress and massage them...reminding them of their importance.

  How in the hell?

  How did I not feel him putting it in there? I look around my chest, hoping to find a clue.

  No luck.

  His presence is easily detectable, even when—or rather, especially when—he doesn’t touch me.

  Maybe that’s how he distracted me.

  Regardless, it’s annoyingly impressive.

  Remembering his hands hovering over my body and the look in his e
yes has me wet again.

  All that talk of control and his demonstration of it makes me wonder just how those hands and tongue would deliver on the promise of his little note.

  Heat spreads through me, and as expected, it fires up my nipples and pussy.

  How does he do this to me even when he isn’t even in the room?

  No, I can’t play this game.

  Don’t get me wrong. I am great at this game. I’m a fucking Olympian at it, but it’s not one I can play with Griff.

  As I plan for my counter move, I turn the shower on cold to extinguish my need for his touch.

  Feeling refreshed with a few ideas in mind, I finish getting ready for the day.

  I’m excited to get out and plan for my first heist. I don’t even care that I have to pretend to be engaged to Griff and fake that I’m interested in this hotel as a possible venue for our upcoming nuptials.

  It’ll be fun to play pretend. And it’ll help set up my move.

  I do have to practice being a thief anyhow, or at least learn more about the world and the profession, especially before the heist.

  Watching Griff day in and day out, I’ve become amazed at how much devotion is required to be a thief of his stature.

  It’s nothing like how the movies portray them—well, the bad thieves at least.

  That is, if there are good thieves, which I am beginning to think there might be.

  And Griff might be one of them.

  Sliding into my new favorite pair of Louboutins, I complete my outfit with a short black dress. It’s short enough to distract Griff, but modest enough for the public.

  He seems pleased when I greet him at the front door.

  “That’s quite a dress, love. Or should I use fiancée?” he says, devouring me with his gaze.

  “Isn’t it?”

  “Well, shall we?”

  He puts his hand on the small of my back and guides me out the door.

  There’s something about his touch, even one as innocent as this, that sends a shiver up my spine.

  “I guess we shall, my husband-to-be.” I wink at him, trying to hide my overly enthusiastic smile.

  It’s really just me excited to start preparing for the heist. Well, mostly that.

  On our way, he goes over a checklist that I need to know when casing a locale.