Second Rate Chances

by S. C. Stephens

  Chance spotted Joseph immediately. He was sitting tall and straight, scoping the customers around him warily. He looked like he was sitting in the middle of a rowdy, biker bar that was going to erupt into chaos at any moment. Pretty funny, considering the jukebox was currently playing Huey Lewis and the News. Stopping himself from rolling his eyes again, Chance slapped on the friendliest smile he had. Time to make nice with his coworker. At least this one didn’t pack any heat like his other “coworkers.”

  Sitting backwards in his chair, Chance lifted the glass of beer that Joseph had diligently ordered for him. Holding it out in front of himself, he smiled. “Cheers…to good times and good friends.” Mentally, Chance cringed. God, that was cheesy. Joseph, however, brightened and raised his glass. Cheesy was right up his alley…Chance knew it would be.

  “To friendship.” Joseph clinked his glass against Chance’s and they both tilted them back.

  Chance felt only the tiniest amount of guilt at his deception towards Joseph. While he hated to jade a man that seemed untouched by the harsh reality of life, in a way, he supposed he was doing Joseph a favor. Life was hard. Life was messy. Life wasn’t clearly black and white, with villains stroking thin mustaches, laughing manically, while the good guy puffed out his chest and blocked bullets with nothing but his good intentions. No…life wasn’t that cut-and-dry, and the sooner Joseph learned that…the better.

  After exactly one beer, Joseph wanted to call it a night. That was fine with Chance. As he waved goodbye to the man and got into his unassuming vehicle, Chance smiled. The night wasn’t a total loss. Chance had taken a few opportunities to hone his “skills.” While he’d been intentionally sloppy about picking Makayla’s pocket, Chance was actually very good at it. He always had been. It was one of the first things he’d been taught as a child.

  Once he was safely driving away from the scene of the crime, Chance reached into his pocket and pulled out his goodies. A wave of reminiscent excitement coursed through him as he flipped three wallets that he’d collected onto the passenger’s seat. It was small time, trivial and meaningless, but brassily taking something from someone inches away from him was intoxicatingly fun too. It still gave Chance a rush. It really was better than sex…well, sex with a mark that he had no feelings for anyway. Sex with Makayla…well, that would probably be different.

  Shaking away that thought, Chance smiled at his collection. The secret to a successful pluck was not using your thumbs. If you could take the wallet using a scissor-like motion with your first two fingers, the victim wouldn’t feel it. Chance had plucked some well-concealed wallets that way. Reaching back into his jacket pocket, Chance pulled out his most prized possession for the evening…a gold watch. Watches were inherently trickier, being attached to the body as they were. Chance considered them the crème de la crème of pick-pocketing. He tried to nab one whenever he could. Of course, being in a bar helped his odds considerably. The person he’d taken this one from had nearly lost his ability to stand straight. Chance probably could have asked him for it.

  Chance fingered the diamond studded bezel. It was an exceptionally nice piece. It had probably set the man back a few thousand. Chance sighed, wishing he could keep it. But, he knew he couldn’t. Holding onto “hot” property was a sure-fire way to end up in jail. And jail was one place Chance was hoping to avoid. He wouldn’t want to end up next to dear old Dad…he’d probably get shanked.

  Tossing the watch down on the seat, Chance accelerated and blanked out his mind. Wasn’t he just thinking earlier that he would someday stop thinking about that man…guess today wasn’t that day. Makayla had placed a seed in his head earlier at lunch…maybe that was why his thoughts were sprouting in that direction.

  Exhaling in a steady, calming way, Chance let Makayla fill his mind. Her warmth, her breath…the outstanding cleavage she sometimes showed him. She was sultry and seductive and so very ripe for the picking. It was clear that she’d been neglected for far too long. Even though he knew it was too soon, Chance was already looking forward to sharing himself with her. Well, his body anyway. He’d never really “share” himself.

  Picking his way down side streets, Chance stopped where he stopped most nights before heading home—a few doors down from 899 Terrace Lane…Makayla’s cheery, yellow home. He smiled as he leaned over the steering wheel. The sunshine house matched his sunshine girl. Well, Colton’s sunshine girl. The lights were all off. She was probably fast asleep by now. Chance considered taking a peek through her windows, just to check on her, but he couldn’t risk a nosy neighbor seeing. He couldn’t get busted doing anything illicit…not if Makayla was ever going to trust him.

  Sighing, he pictured her sprawled out on her bed, maybe a hand on her breast as she slept. His body stirred a little at the thought. Chance shook his head. No, it was too soon for that. But flashes of her skin played in his mind. He imagined the taste of her, imagined her twisting in need…for him, imagined pressing himself into her welcoming body. Then he heard her moan his name, followed by, “Take me…I trust you…”

  Chance closed his eyes and swallowed. His body was ready, thanks to his little fantasies, but the imagined words were hurting his heart. God, he wanted it…and in a way he shouldn’t want it. He wanted her trust, even though he knew he had no right to take it. He wanted her to believe in him, believe in him so strongly that she’d fight for his innocence, fight for his soul…

  Opening his eyes, Chance scowled at the house in his vision. No, he wanted to win her trust so he could use her. That’s what he did, that’s all he did. That’s all Makayla Lewis was to him…a mark, a victim, a pawn. Nothing more. Throwing the car in reverse, Chance left Makayla’s pleasant neighborhood behind. He didn’t belong there anyway.

  Chance awoke the next morning at peace with his world again. He was just a few weeks away from a big score, a large pickpocket, so to speak, and the rush he’d get from that would be incredible, one for the record books. And if he could get away with no one getting injured and only the manager getting arrested…so much the better. Smiling as he rose from his bed, Chance prepared himself for a morning as Colton Burke. Wrapping his persona around himself, he showered and dressed for his afternoon date.

  But first, he’d need a little spending money.

  Driving a couple of towns over, Chance found the out-of-the-way pawn shop that he’d used on more than one occasion. He liked to use this one because the owner didn’t ask a lot of questions. If the merchandise was good, so was he. In Chance’s line of work, that was appreciated. Stepping into the shop, a bell above him signaling his arrival, Chance was greeted by a fat face covered in hair. The burly man straightened and crossed his arms over his chest. Last time Chance was here, he’d cajoled the man into giving him a third more than he’d wanted to. Chance gave him a wide smile. “Carl, did you miss me?”

  Carl didn’t appear to. Frowning, he twisted the toothpick he was chewing to the other side of his mouth. “Sure…what do you have for me, Cody?”

  Chance smiled at another of his aliases. Cody, the shady pawn shop customer. Stepping up to the counter after making sure that no other customers were lurking, Chance plopped down the diamond encrusted gold watch. Carl let out a low whistle before stopping himself. Chance smirked. Oh yeah, he wasn’t walking out of here with less than fifteen hundred. God bless drunk, rich frat boys.

  Carl picked it up, examining it. “Well, I’ll have to verify that this is authentic before I agree to any prices.”

  “It’s real…and its leaving right now if you’re not interested.”

  Carl frowned at Chance’s blunt answer. “I didn’t say that…no need to be hasty, Cody.”

  Chance waited, knowing that he needed to play just the right amount of casualness and determination. His next trusted money source was in the next state…he actually needed Carl to unload this for him, he just didn’t want Carl to know that. All part of the game.

  Sighing, Carl finally said, “Fine… nine hundred.”

  Smiling,
Chance took the watch back. “It was nice see you again, Carl.”

  As he started turning, Chance started counting. He hadn’t made it to three before Carl shot back, “Okay, eleven hundred.”

  Chance twisted to face him. “Two grand.”

  Carl’s mouth dropped. “Are you nuts? I do need to make a profit on the thing.”

  Chance shrugged like he didn’t care either way. Inwardly hoping that Carl said what he wanted him to say, Chance twirled the gold beauty on his finger. Carl’s eyes watched it greedily. “Thirteen hundred.”

  Chance watched the beady little eyes follow the flashing metal he was spinning. Sighing, Chance sounded as if he was making a huge concession for the pawn shop owner. “Look, I came here first because I like you, Carl, but I’ve got other options.” Closing his hand around the watch, he leaned on the counter. “I’ll tell you what…just for you…eighteen hundred.”

  Carl straightened and crossed his arms over his chest. The man looked a little angry, on the verge of telling Chance to go to hell. He was exactly where Chance wanted him. His next comment was music to Chance’s ears. “I’m not going a penny over fifteen hundred, Cody. And if you have somewhere else that can do better,” he raised his arm to point outside, “don’t let the door hit your ass on the way out.”

  Inwardly, Chance smiled. Outwardly, he looked alarmed. “Hey, hey, now. No need to take it personal…this is business, Carl, nothing more.” Tilting his head, Chance sighed and set the watch on the counter. “Alright…just because you are my first choice…and my favorite…fifteen hundred it is.”

  Chance sighed sadly and Carl smiled victoriously, like he’d won. Chance let him believe it…small victories were huge ego boosts. And if Carl felt like he’d worked him over, maybe the next go round would be even more in Chance’s favor.

  Carl stepped into the back. Moments later he returned with a wad of cash. He counted it out to Chance, then snapped the watch from the counter. Chance left without asking for a receipt. He and Carl both knew that he didn’t really need one.

  Thinking that an easy fifteen hundred in his pocket wasn’t a bad way to start the day, Chance fingered through the wallets on his seat. The credit cards he ignored. Not worth the risk right now. He pocketed the meager five and ten dollar bills he found. Wallet snatching was really just for fun; it didn’t provide a sustainable income. Unless you did it in Vegas…or Disneyland. Those were where the padded wallets were. Chance had made almost three grand in one day while vacationing in California last year.

  As he started his car back up, Chance wondered for a moment if Makayla had ever been to Disneyland? She’d probably like Space Mountain.

  Shaking his head, Chance started driving out of town. Heading the opposite way from where he really needed to go, Chance wiped the wallets clean and then tossed them one at a time out of his window, a few miles apart from each other. They’d probably be found eventually, probably by the highway garbage crew. Maybe the owners would be contacted and they’d get them back. Chance always liked to give the owner a fifty-fifty chance at retrieving their merchandise. It seemed fair.

  Once all of his stolen goods were gone, Chance turned around and headed back to Plymouth. Anticipation washed through him as he reentered the city. It was nearly time for his date…for Makayla to look at him again and speak to him again. Watching her was one thing, but it was always better when she was aware of it.

  He pulled into the parking lot for the bank exactly a half an hour before he was supposed to, just like yesterday. It gave him time to scope the place out…gave him a reason to be there. He was merely a man waiting for his girl to have her break. Nothing strange or suspicious about that.

  Leaving his sunglasses on, Chance walked into the lobby. He kept his face towards Makayla’s counter, but let his concealed eyes drift to take it all in. The security cameras were old and obvious, they could be easily blocked or avoided when it was time for the break in. They could even possibly disrupt the signal with a little bit of advanced technology. Or looping the feed…that was always a good choice.

  From the corner of his eye, Chance noticed Makayla smile and wave at him. He turned his vision from the hallway that he’d been exploring yesterday. He was positive that one of the rooms in that direction held the bank’s safe. Banks dealt in money, taking it in, doling it out. Not all of that money was kept in the employee’s tills—don’t leave all your eggs in one basket. After the set amount was counted, the excess was kept in a concealed safe. Once that amount hit a set limit, it was sent out of the bank by armored truck.

  Sometimes the bank’s safe was obvious and huge, more like a vault, but those were generally reserved for large banks in large metropolitan areas. This particular branch was small, local, and their safe was a modest one. Modest, but given the right time of day and week, it probably held a sizeable amount. And a sizeable payday with minimal-to-no security was exactly the sort of job Chance loved. Only idiots with short-sighted goals went for the gargantuan bank robberies. And besides, it wasn’t purely about the money anyway.

  Chance returned Makayla’s warm greeting. He felt his heart beating just a bit faster as he approached her. He wanted to frown, but kept up the charming grin, so Makayla wouldn’t notice anything strange. Really, there was no reason for nerves or excitement, for his chest to tighten and swell. This wasn’t a Jennifer Anniston flick, and there wouldn’t be a sappy, happily-ever-after moment for Chance and Makayla. There couldn’t be. Not with him being who he was.

  Now, if only Chance could convince his body of that.

  Leaning against her counter, once it was free of other customers, Chance lowered his sunglasses to stare up at her. She smiled and bit her lip. A light flush ran along her cheeks as she watched him. The color was intimate, the same shade a woman got after a really good climax. It made Chance want to sigh with contentment.

  “Miss me?” he murmured.

  Shaking her head, Makayla raised an eyebrow; it was adorable, and her blue eyes seemed a little bluer. “How can I miss you when you’re always around?”

  Chance smiled and looked down. God, if she only knew how true her comment was. Chance watched her a lot more than she believed. He peeked back up at her. “Well, then. Perhaps I should just go to lunch on my own today?”

  He pulled away from the counter, pretending to leave. He made the movement as slow as he could, wondering if Makayla would let him leave. Luckily, she didn’t. Grabbing his elbow, she gave him a throaty laugh as she stopped him. “Freeze, Mister.”

  Chance grinned at her comment and looked back at her. Cop-girl…interesting development that had turned out to be; he hoped it didn’t complicate matters. Chance needed Makayla to play along. He knew she was rigid about rules, but if she was too rigid…

  Makayla smiled as she pulled his elbow closer to her. When he was facing her again, she laced their hands together. Chance’s heart skipped a beat. Sighing, she tilted her head as she looked at him. Her long sheet of hair draped over her shoulder and a soft sigh finally escaped Chance. She was probably the most beautiful girl he’d ever conned.

  After a long second of gazing at each other, Makayla straightened and released his hand. “You’re going to get me into trouble.” Tucking some hair behind her ears, she bit her lip again. Pointing over to the lobby, she frowned. “You’re early again, why don’t you go have a seat?”

  Chance gave her a boyish smile. “Sorry…just anxious, I guess.” Backing up a step, he nodded over to the plush chairs where he’d be surveying his target. “I’ll just wait over there…stay out of your hair.”

  Makayla grinned, then shook her head again. “You do that.” As an afterthought, she threw in, “And try and stay out of trouble.”

  Chance gave her an innocent expression, raising his hands in the air. “I always try, Makayla.” He shrugged. “But sometimes trouble just finds me.” Chance groaned internally. He hadn’t meant to say that…but there was a certain amount of truth to it. Chance really wasn’t a fan of trouble, but in his
line of work, it couldn’t always be helped. Such was the risk of his chosen profession. As Chance sat down he reconsidered. Chosen? No, Chance doubted very highly that he’d ever had a choice about his life…or the trouble that always did seem to find him.

  As he waited in his plush chair, a past conversation floated into his brain. It was one he tried to never think about…it was one that kept coming up. It was the conversation that had changed Chance’s life. It was the conversation that had rocked his world to the core. Leaning back in the chair, he lazily looked around the room, taking in every detail about the bank that he could. His heart wasn’t in it though. His heart was stuck in a painful memory.

  He’d been at a hospital, visiting a friend of his father’s. The fellow thief had gotten himself shot in the stomach by a protective homeowner…a hazard in their line of work. Sneaking into his room to say his goodbyes, Chance had leaned over the seemingly comatose man. He’d wearily opened his eyes, his lids fluttering as the life slowly seeped from him.