Driving through the middle of the road, weaving in and out of traffic, I’m on a mission and that’s to put as much distance between us and our pursuers.
“What the fuck just happened?”
“I don’t know...”
Jax’s losing his shit and I’m right behind him. Swerving back into the lane, a horn blows loudly from the passing vehicle.
My mind’s a mess trying to figure out what happened, what went wrong.
The job was supposed to be easy, the security system was able to be hacked in a matter of minutes.
Get in and get out within twenty minutes, the owner had a sitter that left at the same time every day and returned exactly within thirty minutes.
We’d been scoping the home for a few weeks, I’d researched the owner who was on the up and up.
A suit who worked his nine to five paid his taxes, screwed his secretary on Friday, took in a few drinks on Saturday and played a round of golf on Sundays.
“He’s gone!” States Jax, finally relaxing in his seat.
Slowing my speed to the legal limit, I exhale loudly my adrenaline lowering.
“What happened to the sitter and who the hell was that?” He inquires.
My breathing returning to normal, the excitement’s over but I’m still alert and ready for anything.
“Let’s just get to the Foxhole and we’ll figure it all out then.” I state, my stomach literally doing somersaults.
Foxhole’s our hideaway where we stash some of our most valuable treasures, that we’re not able to move right away.
We meet there to plan our jobs, it’s equipped with the latest technology and state of the art security, a mansion that we all call home from time to time.
There’s always someone there and today it’s no different. The whole crew seems to have shown up at the same time.
A voice that I rarely hear but would know it apart from a thousand. “What memo did we miss?” Whispers Jax.
Meetings are held randomly monthly by the second in command Dean, but Ryder holds a conference every six months.
As our leader, it’s his job to organize the big scores for us and it seems that we’re late.
“It’s also come to my attention that a few of you are failing in performance. If you want to be apart of this team, you have to put in the work and dues are owed. This place isn’t cheap and if you can’t afford it you’ll have to relinquish your spot.” Ryder says, upon our entrance.
Jax and I work as a team, we share the profits and it’s nice to have someone to watch your back.
He’s the best at what he does, cracking safes in a matter of minutes. I take care of security, we’re good together and make a good team.
The big assignments are more than enough to pay for our room and board yearly, at the Foxhole but some like me keep residences elsewhere and most have an affinity for luxury.
Fast cars, loose women and designer this and that, burns a hole quickly in your bank account.
Thirteen in number we’re gathered below in the basement, where all the magic happens.
Taking our place near the wall, his gaze lingers on mine for a moment before he continues.
“We don’t need everyone on this heist, so only a select few have been chosen.”
“Does it matter?”
“Yeah, I mean to be fair the ones that need the money should be given the assignment.”
“Well if some folks had managed their finances better, then they wouldn’t be on the struggle bus.”
I’m honored with more than a few narrowed eyed glares at that statement.
“Even though we don’t need everyone, we’ll all share in the rewards.”
“How is it that if you don’t work, you still eat?” One of our peer’s questions.
“When did you all become so money hungry and unempathetic to the plights of others?” Ryder asks.
“When we were subjected to taxation from you, on our low maintenance jobs that you have no parts of.”
I don’t know how it was meant but it came out bitter as hell.
The silence that follows is strained and uncomfortable.
“If anyone doesn’t like the way that I run things around here, you’re more than welcome to leave. I’m not forcing you to be here.”
All other complaints are withheld and he continues on.
“Moving on... Everyone not participating in the assignment will receive a five percent cut.”
There’s a few low murmurs of disapproval but to me, that seems satisfactory. BIg jobs have never fallen under five hundred thousand in value.
Twenty-five grand minimum for doing nothing is great! We’ve become so accustomed to the larger payouts that, a sum of twenty-five grand is mere pennies to us.
“Dean, Sierra, Taylor, Mike, Jess, and Jax, that’s the team for the assignment. Meet me in Dean’s office in fifteen minutes.”
No one says anything as he exits the room, we’re waiting for one brave soul to spark the verbal riot.
Jax gives me an apologetic grimace before heading out behind the others, that were called to duty.
“There’s no “I” in team, Jax.” I state loudly to his retreating back.
“Yeah but “I” gotta make this money!”
Six feet, chocolate skin tone, strong athletic frame, if he wasn’t my “co-worker” I’d have been screwed the hell out of him.
Too bad that I don’t mix business with pleasure.