Finally Mine

by Anne Hansen

  I’ve been doing some light scouting the past few weeks, so, unless there was a crazy change in events, I can time this night down to the minute. My first stop is a sleek contemporary mansion, all glass and chrome, with a curved driveway. There’s a nice hedge wall that means privacy, and the owner likes to keep at least three cars in the driveway at all times. While he’s driving his Corvette to work, his Audi S5 is there for an easy pick-up until around eight-thirty, which is the latest he’s ever come home.

  Since the days are getting shorter and darker, it’s already dusk by five fifteen, which is when I head down the driveway like I own the place. One of the keys to pulling something like this off is to look like you should be exactly where you are, doing exactly what you’re doing. I pull the dealer plate out of the grocery bag and make quick work of switching it out with the one on the back of the car. I put the bag on the passenger seat, settle into the driver’s side, and smile when the key slides in and the motor purrs to life.

  The rest is all smooth and easy. I pull out, drive carefully, avoid main roads, and pull into Gio’s loading dock without anyone seeing anything. I grab the groceries out of the back, take the key off my ring, head to the line of waiting shadow cars, and prepare to wash, rinse, repeat.

  The good thing about pulling a run off without a hitch is that you don’t deal with any problems.

  The bad thing about pulling a run off without a hitch is that you relax. And once you relax, you open the door for glitches.

  Not that what happens is based on me being relaxed, because this set is more complicated than anything I’ve done before. It’s after eight, I’m bringing my fourth car of the night back—a sweet as hell Camaro—when my phone buzzes. I have it set to silent because I’m on a job, but I don’t usually need to worry about getting calls since I don’t get many anyway.

  It’s Keira.

  I almost don’t answer. Because I can’t have her connected to any of this. Because I want this run of five done, and then I can let some of the stress roll off my back. Because the car happens to be Inferno Orange Metallic, which makes me feel like I’m driving with a big ‘notice me’ neon sign on the roof. Because I’m a shithead.

  But I do answer, of course. Why? Because it’s Keira. That’s the only reason I’ll ever need to drop everything.

  “Hi!” she cries, her voice muffled. “So, I know it’s late, but, um, I’m stranded.”

  “What?” I growl, gripping the wheel tighter. “Where?”

  “I’m near this park. I saw this gorgeous lake, and I wanted to just park and think, but I left the radio and heat on like an idiot and…” She covers the phone with her hand and I can hear her voice, spiked high with nerves. “No thank you. My boyfriend is on his way. That’s so nice of you. Really. No. No!”

  Park? Gorgeous lake?

  My body ices over. Tomley Pond, on the outskirts of Grantham Park. It’s a polluted cesspool where tweakers like to hang out and light fires in burn barrels on the rocky shore.

  Is she out of her fucking mind?

  I forget the rules of this boost, I don’t give a shit which roads are safest, how much attention I’m going to draw driving like I’m on a Nascar track in a bright orange Camaro—my one and only thought is Keira.

  Minutes feel like they take hours, but I finally pull up to Tomley Pond, spinning the tires so gravel spits all over the place. I see her navy blue truck stranded in the middle of the parking lot, a few assholes grouped around it, their hands pressed to the glass. They way they hover is menacing, like a pack of hyenas gathered around fresh meat.

  “Hey, fuck off, douchebags!” I yell as I jump out of the car.

  I’m not surprised when one of them wheels around and flicks open a switchblade, swinging it in an arc in front of him. I watch it flash in the moonlight.

  “Don’t come at me like that, bro,” he says, his eyes glinting like a predator’s. He’s clearly high as a damn kite. “Don’t try any shit, because if you’re looking for trouble, you found it.”

  I can see Keira’s face behind the fogged-up window. She’s bone white and wide-eyed, and it fills me with crazy rage that these lowlifes are scaring her like this. I don’t want to lose it—not tonight, not mid-boost, not in front of Keira, the one person who sees me as something more than a brainless criminal—so I hold my hands up, palms out.

  “Back off then,” I say, working hard to keep my voice even and calm. I watch the guy’s rat-like face twitch, his beady eyes darting back and forth. “Get away from my girl’s truck, and we don’t need to get into anything.

  His two scrawny buddies look me up and down, lose interest, and shuffle back to their smoking burn barrel on the shore. But he stays put.

  He tosses the blade from one hand to the other and rocks on the balls of his feet. “I don’t think so. This park is ours, not yours. How ‘bout you fuck off.”

  And he smiles, his teeth jagged and half rotted from all the meth he’s been smoking. He looks excited, like he’s bloodthirsty for this fight. Like he loves the power trip of having some girl trapped in her car and scared shitless. He’s the lord of this disgusting little kingdom, and he’s willing to fight for it.

  There’s not a lot I can do. I walk forward, hands still up, like I want to get a little closer, and wait until I’m in swinging distance. I’ve got a long reach, and when it’s time, I let loose.

  There’s no fight. Not really anyway.

  It’s just me landing three or four solid shots to his ugly face while the guy screams and tries to stop up the blood pouring from his nose. His knife clatters onto the gravel and he scurries away, choking on his own blood. I watch to make sure he’s not gathering a posse, and when I’m positive he’s gone to lick his wounds under the dilapidated bridge, I turn to the truck.

  I grab onto Keira’s door handle, jerking at it before she has a chance to yank up the lock. When we finally coordinate, I practically rip it off its hinges and tear her out of her seat, running my hands over her like I’m checking for anything that might be broken or damaged.

  “I’m fine, Vin, really, I’m okay. Just shaken up.” She lays her hands on my chest and rests her head between them, her ear over my runaway heart. “I’m so glad you’re here.”

  For a few seconds I just crush her tight to me, trying to get myself under control. Those couple of minutes when I didn’t know whether she was okay or not feel like they scraped a decade off my life. But once I know for sure she’s fine, my temper flares.

  “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” I demand.

  Keira steps back and glares at me. “What do you mean? What was I doing? They attacked me. Why are you acting like I did something wrong?”

  “Don’t,” I snap, throwing my hands up. “Just…don’t, Keira.”

  “Don’t what?” She bites her lip and mumbles a few frustrated curse words. “You know what, Vin? You can’t do this.”

  “Do what?” I demand, stalking back toward her until we’re inches away. “Drive halfway across town like a fucking mad mad to save you from a bunch of lowlife assholes you never should have run into in the first place?” My head feels like it’s going to explode.

  My mind flashes back to that night, this park, all that blood, the body of someone in the wrong place at the wrong time when monsters were roaming, thirsty for innocent blood.

  A night just like tonight.

  I remember his body, so limp in my arms, I was sure I was transporting a corpse to the hospital.

  Tonight, that could have been her.

  Tonight, that could have been Keira, and I wouldn’t have stopped at beating some punks up…they would have had to bring me in for murder.

  “What makes you think you can tell me where to go, where to be?” she demands, crushing her heels into the ground and grinding her teeth.

  “Damnit!” I snarl, pacing away from her before I say something I’ll regret. I look back, hoping the little bit of distance will clear my head and things will be better, but I realize they’re not bet
ter at all.

  They’re worse.

  Way worse.

  Because she looks so small, so helpless, and it scares the shit out of me to think what might have happened if I didn’t take her call.

  If I left her alone, here, in a place where she pretends she fits in. She has no fucking idea how raw life is here, how the scum of the earth lurks around every corner.

  Being part of that shadowy underworld might make me hyper-aware to the point of pessimism, but it’s better to be on guard than to assume people are good and life is so fucking nice.

  That’s the mistake David made the night I found him, and it’s the same mistake Keira was about to make. Good people in the wrong place end up the victims of senseless violence. It sucks, but those are the facts, cut and dry, plain and simple.

  “You don’t get it, Keira.” I’m trying not to lose it, not to take all of my fear and frustration out on her, but it’s hard to keep my cool. I need her to understand how serious this is. I need her to listen to me for once instead digging her heels in like a stubborn ass and thinking she knows better. “This place isn’t like where you grew up. People aren’t fucking nice. They scrape by. They fight, they steal, they grab whatever they can, and they sure as hell don’t give a shit who gets fucked over in the process. I thought your friend told you about the night he was in this park.”

  I can see the exact moment she puts two and two together. Her face falls, goes pale. “David? Here?”

  I nod. “Why the hell would you have come here?”

  She looks around her, and I can see from the terror on her face that whatever beauty lured her out here tonight’s been washed away. Getting attacked in a park where your friend almost died can do that to you.

  “How do you know it was this park?” she asks in a voice that’s shaking. “Vin?”

  I dodge the question. “Because this is a park where lowlifes and criminals hang out, Keira. Which is why you need to get out of here now.”

  I pop the hood of the car I’m driving and remember it belongs to a rich asshole. Since I disabled some fancy 24/7 immediate roadside assistance service before I left the driveway, I’m willing to bet the owner’s never bothered to carry around jumper cables.

  Luckily, I checked Keira’s truck the night I took it, and they were tucked under her back seat.

  “I can do that,” Keira says, gripping the bed of the truck like she’s trying to hold herself up while I fish the cables out, hook them from the car I’m driving to hers, and start the engine.

  “Sit down. You’ll need to start your truck in a few minutes.” I nod to the truck, and she shakes her head at me.

  “I know how jumper cables work,” she informs me in that snooty voice she uses when I’ve offended her. “I’m not an idiot, Vin.”

  I come around the car and scan the road that leads in for cops Luckily, the cops know the only people who are usually in this part of town are scum best left to themselves, so they don’t bother coming around here often.

  “I’m not saying you are, babe. But there’s book smart and street smart. I don’t know if I ever met someone more book smart than you are, but you got a hell of a lot to learn about surviving on the streets around here.”

  “You sound like my father,” she says with a laugh that’s not remotely amused, then does a double take at the Camaro. “Where’s your car?” she asks, staring.

  I swallow hard, weighing the evils: lie to the girl I love or tell the truth and risk getting her involved.

  I don’t like either option, but it’s a no-brainer for me. “I’m bringing this car into the shop for a client who’s out of town.”

  “Oh.” She runs her fingers along the door. “It’s a gorgeous color. Is it a V6?”

  “Nope,” I say. “V8.” Gio doesn’t approve of boosting standard. Only the best for his ‘clients.’

  “I heard they were discontinuing this color,” she murmurs, looking it over with clear appreciation.

  “It’s not in this year’s line.” Which is why it was on the list—the color is a draw, and it will be even more sought after once people realize it’s not available.

  There’s always a market for things people want and can’t have.

  “I’d love to test drive one of these,” she says.

  I’m not sure if it’s a hint or not, but I need to get this car out of here without involving her in any way. I want to tell her to stop running her fingers over the paint. The last thing I need is this thing winding up somewhere it shouldn’t be with Keira’s prints all over it.

  “Go ahead and start the truck up,” I tell her, needing this to be over so I can be done with this never-ending nightmare of a night.

  We’re almost done. I’ve lost time, but I’m willing to bet I can make it back up if I stay focused the rest of the night. Once I know Keira’s safe at home, it’ll be easier to do that.

  She turns the key and the engine roars to life. I’m about to disconnect when a flash of red and blue makes my blood run cold.

  I stiffen and remind myself not to run, not to panic.

  Deciding whether or not to bail would usually be more of an issue, except for the fact that Keira is standing close to me. She doesn’t look worried at all…I guess that’s how law-abiding people feel when they have run-ins with the cops.

  “Good evening,” the officer says, getting out of her car, her hand casually resting on the piece on her hip as she walks closer to us. “There were reports of a fight breaking out here. Have you two seen anything suspicious?” She narrows her eyes a little at me.

  From the corner of my eye, I see Keira open her mouth to say God knows what, but I jump in before she has a chance. “Nothing, Officer. She just needed a jump.”

  The officer looks down at the gravel, where the switchblade is still lying. She flips on a flashlight and shines it at the metal. There’s blood on the rocks, but I’m not sure if the officer can tell.

  I’m pretty sure she’d be able to put two and two together, though.

  She points to the blade. “That yours?” she asks me.

  “It was here when I pulled up,” Keira says, giving this angelically innocent look to the officer as she lies through her teeth. “I didn’t see anyone around, and I waited in my car until my boyfriend came.”

  The officer gives me a suspicious look and asks Keira to step aside. I strain to hear what she’s saying and just barely catch the gist.

  “…feel like you’re in danger…you can let me know by nodding…”

  Keira shakes her head and I hear her insisting that, no, I haven’t tried to hurt her. Even though logic tells me this officer is just doing her job, just watching out for a girl who looks like she might be in a bad position, I feel this burning anger. I’d never hurt Keira. In fact, I’d kill anyone who tried to harm a hair on her head.

  But I realize what this officer sees. She sees what Keira’s father saw the day he bumped into me, what Principal Miller and ninety percent of the population at Eastside see when Keira and I walk the halls.

  They see a two-bit loser taking a beautiful, good-hearted girl down into the gutter with him.

  When Keira walks back over, she tries to snuggle close to me, but I keep my distance. I don’t want to raise the officer’s suspicions.

  “New vehicle?” She looks it over with an appreciative glance and my throat goes bone dry.

  “Yeah. Early birthday gift from my dad.” I clear my throat and try not to say anything else that’ll draw suspicion my way. “Just picked it up today. I’m waiting on the plates.”

  The officer looks over my shoulder at Keira, who’s leaning against her truck, arms crossed tight around her. She’s looking at me with furrowed brows, and I wonder if she heard my conflicting lie about the car.

  “She going home on her own?” she asks quietly, her dark eyes searching my face like she’s waiting to pounce on a lie.

  “Yes, ma’am.” I can feel the sweat beading on my neck and running down my back.

  “You two have a di
sagreement of some kind?” Her voice is calm, but dangerous. I can tell she’s not going to screw around if she thinks I’m hiding something from her.

  “No, ma’am…I mean—” I cut myself off. Fuck, what am I saying? This is too much information already. All she needs to do is see the stolen vehicle report when it comes through, match me in the database, and track me down. But it’s dark, my hood is up, and she hasn’t asked for my id…yet.

  Fuck. Not my id. My brother’s.

  “What is it?” she presses, and the way she leans in reminds me of a tiger about to jump right for the jugular.

  “It’s just that my girlfriend is new to this area. Got it in her head that this would be a nice place to park and admire the view,” I say, laying the sarcasm on heavy. I watch the officer’s eyes light up and the exasperated smile on her lips. We’re on the same page now. I start to relax, just a little. “When I realized this is where she came to do some thinking and wound up killing her battery, I was upset. Not at her,” I rush to add. “Just worried she might be in trouble hanging out in this place alone at night. She didn’t grow up around here.”

  Her shoulders move down like she’s taken a load of stone off her back. She gives me a curt nod. “I see.” She turns to Keira. “Miss, you’ll want to avoid this area from now on, especially at night. As you can see,” she nods down to the switchblade before taking an evidence bag out of her pocket and scooping it up, “this isn’t a safe area. Is your truck ready to drive?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I say, getting to work detaching the jumper cables. “And she needs to get home before curfew.”

  That little lie works like magic, makes it all seem like a big misunderstanding, like we’re two good students who wandered onto the wrong side of the tracks.

  For a second I believe my own bullshit, give Keira a chaste kiss before shooing her off, wave to the nice officer who doesn’t seem suspicious anymore.

  For just a single second, it all feels like any normal run-in any regular citizen in a bind would have with a concerned officer of the law.

  Until I remember this vehicle isn’t an early birthday present from my rich daddy…it’s hot and it’s been sitting in plain sight way too long already.