The illegal auction took off like a snail caught in the sun - that was, to say, slowly. The announcer, a pale woman with tightly-woven hair and a stark blue dress suit, showed off the earrings to the crowd while barking that they were forged by blind iron workers in Mongolia. They blinked in the light innocently, as if they didn't truly know their worth. The corner of Theodora's mouth twitched downwards when a woman raised a paddle and the man she was with begrudgingly dug for his wallet; she thought they were rather ugly-looking. Then again, she thought the same thing about her shoes, and she was wearing those.
Next came the piece of chunk of earth from Belize; she thought it looked like an ordinary piece of coal, or slate stone someone had tried to color with a Sharpie running out of ink. Attached to Sully's arm like the doting, gold-digging wife she was supposed to be, she watched a young man who looked all of twenty practically offer up his firstborn son after competing with another bidder from across the room. As someone who was accustomed to taking what she wanted and never having the money to come by it truthfully, she could hardly understand how people spent so much on such worthless-looking items.
Then again, she was getting ready to snatch an ancient cross made of old wood and painted copper.
"Tick tock, Nathan," she murmured and pressed the earpiece further into her skull. "We're pushing it here."
"Stop rushing me!" he barked, and Theodora and Sully winced for a second time and held the sides of their heads.
Feeling a throbbing headache begin to fall in cadence with the thundering of her heart, she broke from her fake husband and said something about tracking down a better drink. As the announcer prepared to present the cross, she slunk through the maze of attendants to the nearest server in white and red, a circular tray of liquors and spirits balanced in his arms. She excused herself and reached for what she prayed was her drink of choice, and nearly startled when he turned and she was staring at a face she recognized.
"Jesus, Sam," she whispered and huddled close. "You nearly scared the shit out of me."
Shielded by the curtains of darkness that swept across the packed atrium, they were allowed to stand close enough without attracting any unwanted attention, gazes prodding around where they shouldn't. He handed her a small glass of vodka without exchanging any kind of word of what to drink, and she tossed it back in one swift movement as the announcer presented the cross. They both scowled when she referred to it as a crucifix.
"I'm goin' to need that purse when the lights go out," said Sam.
She placed the now-empty glass back on his tray and watched as the first price was set; a paddle flew up in the crowd, and the hand it belonged to trailed down to a white tuxedo and shocked-back hair. Both their breaths hitched; just before it was sold, Sully's paddle flew up and challenged the price. The money began to tick upwards, along with their hear rates.
"If we weren't doing what we were doing," said Theodora to the pretend server beside her, "I'd think you were trying to rob me." As they talked, the pair ever so slowly began to creep their way around the room's perimeter like shadows, edging closer and closer to the stage. Across the room, the vein protruding from Rafe's forehead became more and more prominent as he and Sully continued to go at it. At this point, they could practically hear their wallets weeping.
Sam leaned down to be heard over the announcer, and his lips were just centimeters away from brushing the shell of her ear. "Well," he drawled with that hint of Bostonian accent still clinging to his voice, "it wouldn't be the first time we played that game, would it?" He seemed to relish in the heated glare she sent his way.
Nathan's voice crackled in their ears. "First of all," he said, "we can still hear you. Secondly, the two of you are disgusting."
At this point they were standing near the corner of the stage, and there was a break in the crowd leading straight to the doors. They waited, breaths held and chests ready to burst with nerves. Rafe shouted some unimaginable bid that reverberated against the marble interior; Sully was forced to drop his paddle and resign from the race. The cross was going once, going twice, s-
The atrium was dropped into complete darkness, and the time to move was upon them. Working like jackals hunting at night, Theodora and Sam burst from their roles and into action. Setting his tray on the stage, he reached up to the pedestal and snatched up the cross, then tucked it into the waiting mouth of her purse. People clustered and staggered in confusion around them like bugs caught under glass cups, and they used the chaos to their advantage, moving through the maze of bodies effortlessly. They were dancing a rhythm only they knew to a beat only they could hear, like this moment in the middle of the inky void was what they were made for. Like this moment, with an arm wrapped securely around her middle and a hand clutching his arm, was made just for them. There was no cross, no crowd, no seething ex-jail mate after the same treasure they were; it was only them stumbling blindly, following the other's lead, swaying to this silent tune of danger and excitement neither could pull themselves from.
When the lights came back on, Sam and Theodora were already past the armed guard and the double doors leading to the lobby.
Even with the hardest part behind them, she felt a shot of adrenaline pumping through her like a saline bag bringing her back to life. She had risen suddenly from the grave of normalcy with this one swipe, this one nab, and there was some wild, feral instinct awakening in her stomach. She hadn't felt this rush in so long she could practically taste it on her tongue, and there was nothing that could snatch it from her.
Out in the long stretch of hallway leading to the front doors, Theodora slipped her hand from Sam's arm and the high she was addicted to didn't allow her to feel the lingering touch when he pulled his arm from her waist. Their pace quickened when a sliver of daylight teased them through the windows up ahead; they were nearly free.
"Stop," called a voice from behind them. They glanced over their shoulders; a guard.
"Shit," said Sam.
YOU ARE READING
lie to me → s.d.
Fanfiction" aren't you supposed to be dead?" " aren't you supposed to be my girl? " in which theodora thatcher must come to terms with the fact that her ex, after a tragic accident, is still alive and begging her to save his life one mo...
