The Things She Stole (A Brandon Penny Crime Thriller Book 1) by D.D. Black

Author:D.D. Black [Black, D.D.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Darkness and Light Books
Published: 2022-10-23T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Thirteen

I drove home slowly, keeping to the speed limit and staying in the right lane. My stomach felt better because I’d thrown up in the parking lot on my way out of OSP, but my thoughts were swampy as I considered my chat with Ricky.

As far as I knew, my mom had never taken a gun to work before the poker game. I didn’t know the details of every job she’d done, but I knew the types of jobs, and none required guns. They were short cons or well-planned thefts, jobs that required skill instead of force. Until that night. What made that job so special that it warranted risking violence for the first time in her career? Nothing, because the gun wasn’t loaded.

Ricky’s admonition to treat every gun like it’s loaded had started playing in the back of my head in the prison, and it hadn’t let up. Dull silver on red is where the memory started. We were in a hotel somewhere on the East Side. The gun was on the bed. Silver, not especially shiny, sitting on a red bedspread.

My mom was in the bathroom getting ready. I was all set in my costume—fake freckles, puffy jacket, hair a little mussed because nine-year-olds don’t care as much about their hair as twelve-year-olds. My pawnshop bike was already in the car. I’d practiced riding it in the hotel’s parking lot before dinner because when you’re going to take a flop off a bike that’s too small for you, you want to make sure you do it on your own terms.

A horn blared as a line of cars passed me on the left. I checked my speed. I was driving fifty in a sixty zone, so I sped up and locked in the cruise control. Last thing I wanted was to get pulled over for going too slow.

I stood over the gun and looked up at Ricky, asking with my eyes, Can I touch it?

Ricky glanced at the bathroom door and I knew he was thinking exactly what I was thinking. Your mom wouldn’t approve. But she was locked in the bathroom.

I cocked my head to the side, trying to look mature, studious. I gave him a look that tried to convey I got this, but probably communicated more childish pleading.

Ricky nodded cautiously. Carefully, kid. And just for a sec.

It was heavier than I expected.

I felt Eric’s hand on my shoulder. Treat every gun like it’s loaded.

I held it up with both hands, aiming at the spot on the wall. You ever shot someone?

Won’t come to that. Never has, never will.

My mom emerged from the bathroom then, heavy jacket on, scarf and hat in hand. It was the last time I saw her face clearly.

When she saw me holding the gun, she frowned. Brand, don’t touch that. It’s dangerous.

I quickly set it on the bed. I wasn’t doing anything. I was just…

I know, but still.

Ricky patted me on the back. Listen to your mom, kid.

Minutes later, we left for the poker game.

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