Fighting Shadows (On the Ropes #2)(7)

He lifted it to inspect it. “Oh, come on, Ash. This is fake!”

“Wow. I’m so sorry, Pops. Maybe you should hustle yourself from now on. Are there any studies that show how men react to a comb-over? We should give it a try.” I smirked.

“Don’t you dare catch that attitude with me. That is, unless you want to move up to Minneapolis.” He quirked an eyebrow.

“What? No!” I shouted. “You said we could stay in Tennessee.”

“Then quit your bitching. This place isn’t cheap. If you want to stay here, you need to bring me back something better than a fake Rolex. And don’t even act like you didn’t know the difference when you targeted him.”

I gritted my teeth.

Oh, I knew the difference, all right—which was precisely why I had taken that one instead of leaving it. I wasn’t a bad person. Sure, I was a thief, but I only took what I needed in order to appease my father. I hated every single second of robbing people, especially the nice ones who seemed like they genuinely cared about me. It was freezing outside, and he’d offered me his coat. Unlike my father, who had taken my shoes and shoved me out of the car two blocks away.

I didn’t want to rob people; however, I was willing to do whatever it took so I didn’t have to move again.

Fifteen years. Twenty-two houses. Well, house might have been a little-too-liberal use of the word. Sure, we had lived in houses. Nice ones. Big ones. But we’d also lived in trailers, apartments, and, on more than one occasion, our car. Conning people didn’t exactly provide a steady income.

Reaching into my pocket, I retrieved the rest of the man’s belongings. “Here.”

“That’s my girl!” He snatched the wallet and business card carrier from my hands. “Where’s his car keys?”

“I don’t know.” I shrugged, awkwardly looking out the window. “Maybe he carpools.”

“God damn it, Ash!” he boomed.

“He was nice! I took his wallet. He wouldn’t have been able to pay for a cab!”

“Oh, yeah? Poor guy. Maybe you can write a letter apologizing to him?”

It wasn’t a completely bad idea, but I was relatively sure he was going somewhere else with that statement.

“While you’re in jail!” he finished. “Your prints were on those keys. The first time you get caught, they will have you for every * you’ve ever turned.”

“Nuh uh! I wiped ’em.”

“Well, for your sake, I hope you were thorough! Stop leaving the f*cking keys!” He banged the heel of his palm against the steering wheel.

“It’s rude. We don’t do anything with them anyway. They just go in the trash.”

“I’m gonna need you to listen to me very carefully.” He pulled off to the side of the road just as we got out of the city. “Your job is to take everything you can get from their pockets. That’s it. If your fingers touch something, it comes home with us. You got it?”

I rolled my eyes.

And he narrowed his. “You know what? Maybe Minneapolis would be a good change for you.”

That got my attention. “No!”

“You’re getting sloppy, Ash.” He sucked on his teeth with a slurping sound that made me want to vomit. “A change might be exactly what you need.” He pulled back onto the road, cool as a f*cking cucumber.

I, however, was livid. “Fine! I’ll take the keys!”

“Nah. You’ve gotten too comfortable down here in the South. Everyone’s an easy target. You need the challenge of a bigger city.”

“Dad! No. You swore that we could stay here for a full year. It’s only been three months!”

“I can’t take that risk with you leaving your prints all over the goddamn city. Besides, I’ve got a lead in Minnesota. It could set us up for a while.”

“School starts next week! You promised me I could enroll after Christmas.”

“Well, you know what? Sometimes, shit doesn’t work out the way we’ve planned.” He reached over and opened the glove compartment, pulling a toothpick out and shoving it in his mouth. I had an overwhelming urge to stab it in his eye. “Especially when you bring back five hundred bucks and a f*cking case of business cards.”

What he didn’t know was that the nice guy I’d just worked over also had his social security card in his wallet along with that five hundred bucks—or that I’d snuck it out while he’d checked the watch. I’d probably saved that poor schmuck three years of his life trying to get his identity back after my father got done with it. But . . . he was nice.

“Asshole,” I mumbled under my breath. Although it wasn’t nearly quiet enough.

“Just forget it, Ash. I’ve changed my mind. I don’t think school is going to be a good fit for you. Besides, what the hell do you know about algebra?”

“Nothing!” I yelled. “I know nothing about algebra, English, or history as far as you’re concerned. It’s a goddamn miracle I can even read and write.”

“Oh, don’t give me that shit. You always have your nose stuck in some book. Plus, I got you that computer so you could take classes online. Stop being so dramatic.” He went back to staring out the window.

“You did not get me a computer. I stole a computer! From a ninety-year-old man whose grandkids bought it for him so they could video chat with him every day because they missed him so much.”