Erin
Erin thought back to what she had said to Cole only a few days before. There's no place for nerves on a heist. Despite this overwhelming truth, she still felt the quickening of her heart in her chest and the blood rushing through her veins.
She dealt with her stress the way she usually did – through her art. Which was why, on the night before the day of the heist, she was holed up in her room at her desk, pencil clutched tightly in her hand.
Everyone was dealing with their anxiety in their own ways. Ryder was going over plans over and over again so that he could be sure he'd commited them to memory. Cole was at a casino somewhere – she hadn't bothered to check. Brett and Lana were currently downstairs going through a movie marathon, watching whatever was on the TV. They hadn't invited Erin and she hadn't asked – they had a special friendship that Erin wouldn't want to intrude on.
Thinking of Lana led her to the events of a few days ago, when they'd gone shopping. She hadn't expected Lana to ask about her mom, and in her startledness, she'd told more than she'd told anyone. She didn't mind actually – the fact that her mom had been in fashion was a source of pride for her, and she found that she didn't have a problem talking about it. It was what had happened after her and Aaliyah's falling-out that made her tense up.
She shook those thoughts away and focused on calming herself down. We're going to be alright, she consoled herself. Everything's ready. Our uniforms arrived on time, and they fit well. Ryder picked up the invitations, and they're all in order. We all went through the plans for around three hours earlier. We're going to be alright.
Erin pursed her lips and focused on the drawing she was working on – it was charcoal piece of a billow of smoke, and it was turning out really well – but her mind wouldn't let her concentrate. She groaned in frustration, and pressed the heels of her palms into her eyes, exclaiming when she nearly stabbed her eye with the pencil.
She carefully set it down, and leaned back into her chair, going through her directions for what felt like the thousandth time. She'd have to arrive at the docks at 10:30 – sharp. There she'd meet Aileen's brother, Kai, who'd help them get on board. The numbers of the catering staff would be large enough that two extra people wouldn't raise any eyebrows – and just in case, Brett had added them on the list of personnel. Fake names of course – she was now Cindy Adler.
She had the bottle of food poisoning ready, reaching over to grasp the small flask just to reassure herself. Once again, she marveled at its small size –afew drops per guest was all it took. All she'd have to do was drop it into thefood unnoticed, and...success. Though she had a strong suspicion that that wouldbe easier said than done.
* * *
Thirty minutes later and her artwork was done.
Cole had returned – she'd heard the front door open and the sound of muffled conversation between him, Lana and Brett.
Brett.
She still hadn't told him, and while that was partly due to her own apprehension, it was also because there never had been a right moment. They'd both been so caught with preparations for this heist that they hadn't had any alone time. At all.
And she knew that there were times early in the mornings or late at night where Brett was awake – she saw the faint glow of light under his door. And she knew that during those times, she could easily have walked over there and just told him, getting it out of the way, once and for all. But somehow, she just couldn't bring herself to do it. She was scared.
Of what though? She paused her final inspection of her drawing to ponder the thought. She was scared of rejection, obviously. But there was a small part of her that worried of what would happen if he liked her back. Not that liking her was the problem – she'd be ecstatic. But what if the relationship didn't work? They'd break up and...what would become of their friendship? It was a tough question that she did not have the answer to.
YOU ARE READING
Heists and Vengeance
Mystery / Thriller"Why are you doing this? Do you all really hate Carmichael that badly?" This time it wasn't Ryder who answered, but Brett. And when she looked at him, she could swear that stars guttered out of his twinkling eyes. "You're right. This isn't just...