Heartbeats

Chapter 8

      Thirty two thousand two hundred and twenty four heartbeats later we were safe, well rested, and ready to go.

      “You guys have everything?” I asked unnecessarily, already knowing the answers.

      “Yep,” Cam said, plopping down next to her backpack and black briefcase.

      Reach didn´t bother answering. He was running around the room, picking up a stray cable, t-shirt, or sock.

      “Seriously,” he kept muttering. “The divorce rate of my socks is astonishingly high.”

      I smacked his head as he hurried by. “Hurry up. You can buy some socks later.”

      “But- but- I´m missing the one my grandma made me. You know how much I love Grandma Mae.”

      I rolled my eyes. “I´ll be downstairs checking out. Cam, mind taking the stuff to the car? And be careful with the… Dalí.” I couldn´t help but linger in the word, savoring it in my mouth. I couldn´t stop my grin from spreading.

      Yesterday night had gone… perfect. Nothing had gone wrong, which was nice for a change. And the feeling it brought, well, it was unmatched. The adrenaline that coursed through my veins, how everything seemed to heighten knowing you could get caught any second, it made me feel alive.

      The feeling of holding the Dalí in my hands before rolling it up had made my breath catch and my heartbeats become uncontrollable. That´s what made big heists so addicting. A lot of people did it for the money, but I knew that with Cam, Reach and me it wasn´t the case. That amazing feeling was what had initially bonded us together.

      Cam patted one of her duffel bags lightly, a proud smirk on her face. She slung it over her shoulder, grabbed her other bag and briefcase, and departed with the Dalí.

      I walked out after her, not once glancing at the trashcan, where a discarded newspaper with crossed out apartments lay.

      At the checkout counter, I was relieved to see that a perky girl had replaced the sullen one of last night. Her smile seemed to be pasted into her face, her eyes crinkling and the occasional giggle escaping her lips. I had noticed her giggles had increased once Reach had finally joined us.

      “Can you believe it?” Reach was saying. “I was just about to leave when I decided to check one of the drawers. Good thing, since I found one of my socks.” He lifted one of his jeans´ legs, and I glanced down to find a red sock peeking out over his shoe.

      Cue the giggling girl.

      “Did you hear about what happened last night?” she asked.

      “No. What?” I asked, a bit offhanded as if I didn´t really care.

      “There was a robbery at the museum.”

      “Really?” Reach´s eyes widened in surprise.

      The girl nodded enthusiastically.

      “Woah.” I exclaimed. “My friends and I were just saying we wanted to stop by.” I stopped as if considering. “What did they steal? Was it a Picasso?”

      “Oh, no. It was a painting they had just brought in, one by Salvador Dali.”

      “Huh.” The girl handed me back my credit card.

      “Well,” she continued, another giggle escaping. “Have a good one! Please come back.” Her eyelashes fluttered as she stared at Reach.