I waited several minutes until my father’s sedan came rolling to a stop in front of me.
“What the hell took so long? There is a very good chance that I’m going to lose a few toes to frostbite,” I snapped, climbing inside and sliding on the pair of Oscar the Grouch slippers that were waiting on me. “Remind me again why I had to be barefoot?”
“Studies have shown that men are more likely to help women who are barefoot. Here.” He offered a large, plastic cup of water.
Knowing the drill, I dropped my newly acquired iPhone inside. Within seconds, the screen blinked to black.
I cried a little each time we had to inhumanely put such a beautiful beast to sleep. I could have given that phone a wonderful home in my back pocket. He would have been so happy sending out my tweets. I could almost imagine his delight while helping me create cat memes. Unfortunately for me and the shiny little guy, cell phones were traceable. So, regardless of how many of them I managed to pickpocket, they all suffered the same fate.
“Ash, don’t look at me like that! We’ll get you a new phone soon,” he lied.
I heard that promise along with numerous others on a daily basis. All. Lies. I was never getting a new phone, not after he had given mine to his beautiful new wife. The whore.
“Here. You want this one?” He spun the cheap, disposable flip phone in his fingers.
I rolled my eyes. “As amazing as that offer may be, I’ll pass,” I retorted sarcastically, causing him to chuckle.
“All right. What else did you bring me?” he asked, rubbing his hands together.
I dug into the pockets of my sweater. “Watch.”
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 asshole you’ve ever turned.”
“Nuh uh! I wiped ’em.”
“Well, for your sake, I hope you were thorough! Stop leaving the fucking 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 fucking cucumber.
I, however, was livid. “Fine! I’ll take the keys!”