Thief for Hire by Jillianne Hamilton

Author:Jillianne Hamilton [Hamilton, Jillianne]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Tomfoolery Press
Published: 2015-02-05T14:00:00+00:00

Life feels a bit different at the mouth of a pistol. It’s funny what things pass through your mind.

My father is going to see his daughter get shot. That totally sucks. I’m a terrible person. I should have stayed in college. I should have gone skydiving while I had the chance. I should have gone swimming with dolphins. I should have seen The Spice Girls perform on their reunion tour!

“It is far too easy to buy a gun in this country,” Rhys said, nearly doubled over with laughter. “God bless America!”

I glanced at Dad but didn’t dare move. He looked tense but not scared or angry.

“Tell me who told you about the necklace or I’ll shoot her.”

Dad crossed his arms over his chest. “My guy is named Stan. He works out of Los Angeles. Now can you please lower your gun?”

Rhys’s eye twitched. “Does Stan have a last name?”

“Stan doesn’t give out his last name. He’s a professional,” Dad said. “Unlike some people.”

If you hadn’t noticed, Dad, there’s a gun pointed at my head. Please don’t be sarcastic.

“Stan from Los Angeles, you said?” Rhys thought for a moment, shrugged and put his gun away. “Well then. Guess I’m going to Los Angeles.”

He headed out back down the tunnel and winked at me over his shoulder. “See you soon.”

We waited a moment to say anything or move.

Dad cleared his throat. “Are you okay?”

I nodded, my heart still pounding. “I’m fine.”

We squeezed back through the dank tunnel, peering out of the entrance to make sure the coast was clear. Then we climbed back over the fence and got in the car.

I closed my door and glared at Dad.

“What?”

“That’s all you have to say?”

He started the car. “At least we got him out of our hair for a while.”

“What happens when he can’t find—” I did air quotes. “—Stan in Los Angeles? I’ll tell you. He takes it out on me.” I closed my eyes. “I’m finished.”

“You’re fine. Stan is a real guy.”

“What?”

“He’s an old business associate. Old-school mobster type.” Dad stared at the road ahead of him. “I hope that little shit does find Stan and confronts him. Stan will have him killed. Maybe I should give him a heads up and let him know he should be expecting him—”

“I don’t want Rhys murdered!”

“Why not?”

“Because I steal things from rich people. Murder’s not really my scene.”

“But it would solve all your problems. And he just pointed a gun at your head.” He shrugged. “Even if it was just a fake.”

I stared at him. “What did you just say?”

“Oh, that gun wasn’t real. Plus, he wasn’t even holding the damn thing right.” He glanced at me. “You couldn’t tell it was a fake?”

Oh. My. GOD.

“Not from where I was standing, no.”

“You should brush up on your firearms knowledge, punkin. It’s helpful to know.”

“Thanks, I’ll do that,” I muttered.

“That creep may know a thing about hacking and burglary but he obviously doesn’t know anything about guns or self-defense. You should have broken his arm. That would’ve been awesome.

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