You are not the owner, and you have no right to name it.
I kept my eyes focused on bric-a-brac and workers as I weaved around bodies and skilled hands. And there, on a trestle table with wood shavings and discarded nails, hid a small silver frame with oval photos and little claw legs keeping the images of a pretty woman and a young girl in a purple pinafore upright.
A family.
Someone’s family.
I paused, running my finger over the dusty, smiling faces. I didn’t know where the husband was or which worker returned home to this wife and daughter.
I wanted to know. I wanted to find out the names of his family.
But another part of me didn’t want to let Elder down. This token was small enough to fit in my palm and light enough to be carried with no effort.
It’s not yours…
It almost stopped me.
Almost.
Scooping up the photo frame, I froze. The epic disgrace at touching something that didn’t belong to me filled me with remorse. I waited for a hand on my shoulder or growled command to put it down.
I almost wanted them to, so I wouldn’t have to go through with this.
But neither of those things happened.
The sanding continued. The gossip remained.
And guilt swarmed me as I hid the silver within my hands and slinked away to steal something that monetarily had barely any worth but for one man was incalculable.
After ten steps, I couldn’t breathe through my regret. How could I take something like that? What possessed me to steal something that meant so much to someone?
I turned to replace it.
Screw Elder’s command.
Only, he materialized from the side of the yacht, holding his hand out as if he’d witnessed my theft and wouldn’t let me deny it.
With heavy contrition forming a lump in my throat, I stepped toward him and handed over the photo frame.
Our fingers touched.
Hot to cold.
Man to woman.
I hung my head as Elder peered at the family. Once upon a time, I’d been stolen just like I’d stolen this photo frame. I’d been taken callously with no thought to how my mother would cope with my disappearance or any apology.
Now I’d done the same.
I refuse to be like them. To be like Elder as he smiled and nodded in approval.
“Wait!” Snatching it back, I hugged the pictures close. “I-I changed my mind. I’m not stealing this.”
His head cocked, his actions slow and refined. “You already did. It’s not yours, yet you’ve taken it. It belongs to you now.”
I back stepped, trying to remember what workstation I’d taken it from. “No. It’s worth too much.”
His eyes narrowed. “Worth too much? I doubt it would fetch a few dollars on the street. Hollow silver is worth nothing, and no one wants pictures of another’s loved ones.”
My mouth hung open. “You’re thinking of selling it to make money?”
“Isn’t that why anyone steals?” He shrugged, defiant and indifferent. “Either to benefit themselves or trade for cash?”
“It’s wrong.” I shuddered. “No one should profit off another.”
I struggled to keep the conversation on the stolen photo frame and not my own plight.
“Wrong or right, it’s happened.” Elder held out his hand. “Give it to me. It’s mine.”
“No, you can’t have it.” I placed it behind my back.
“Too late.” Elder stalked toward me and plucked it from my fist as if I hadn’t been holding it at all. “You chose it. You have to live with the guilt. No one told me that when I started stealing, Pim.” He bent closer, his face ardent but vicious. “The guilt eats you alive. The shame of taking what doesn’t belong to you is never worth the cost.” He chuckled, but it echoed with wounded despair. “Believe me.”
And I did.
I believed that his previous pickpocketing had left him empty and remorseful rather than fulfilled and rich. He might have endless wealth now but at what cost? What soul debt?
I shivered unhappily as he tucked the photo frame into his back jeans’ pocket and wrapped his arm around my waist. “Come. There’s somewhere else I’d like to visit today.”
I didn’t ask where or why or what we would do once we got there. All I could focus on was the photo frame in his pocket and the minor epiphany that’d followed on the heels of Elder’s confession.
He might’ve been a thief, but he’d paid for each thing he’d taken. He’d shown himself to be human rather than monster because even though he’d kept what wasn’t his, he’d never been able to let go of his wrong-doing.
Unlike those who’d stole and sold me. They’d laughed. They’d congratulated. Not one had said they were sorry.
And because of that, I forgave Elder for carving out a piece of me. For forcing me to take that man’s property.
I accepted my misdeed, hugged my sin, and accepted that, for better or for worse, I was now a thief.
Chapter Eleven
______________________________
Elder
PIM CLIMBED INTO the back of the black sedan as I held open the door.
Her actions were sad and full of heavy, heavy remorse. She didn’t smile in thanks or glance at me in that intoxicating blend of suspicion and eagerness.
She was muted.
I knew the feeling.
Shit, I’d lived with such agony ever since my life turned from rags to riches.
I’d tried to pay my debt. I’d done my utmost to equalize the unbalanced karma I’d caused, so I didn’t have to carry such colossal mistakes.
But I hadn’t succeeded, and with every dollar I spent, I had the awful knowledge that without that one theft none of my current empire would exist. And if this never existed for me, then imagine what the other guy would feel if he knew I’d stripped him of a future where he’d never had to worry about finances again. Where he could retire and support his loved ones through thick and thin.
I’d taken his good fortune and made it my own because I was selfish and mean.
I would never forgive myself.
Pim had stolen two sun-bleached photos and a five dollar hollow silver frame.
I’d stolen millions upon millions.
In terms of value crimes, she’d done nothing.
It didn’t change the individual value of such things, though.
Robbery was robbery.
I’d turned her into a thief even though I no longer stole.
It wasn’t fair, and I wasn’t that man anymore.
Selix brushed past me to enter the driver’s side. I stopped him with a quick catch to his shoulder. His black eyes met mine, an eyebrow raised. Cocking my head as I closed the door on Pim, I guided him a few feet away and covertly pressed the photo frame into his hand. “Take that to Charlton. Make sure he finds the rightful owner.”
Selix nodded with no questions, no accusations. Just like he hadn’t accused or questioned the night I’d committed the biggest felony of my life. “Consider it done.”
I slapped him on the back and waited until he’d jogged back to the warehouse to fix the wrong Pim had done at my bequest.