Scorched

Chapter 6

"I don't know what you mean," I shrug off Ronin's criticism airily before discreetly checking my watch.

I had a whole 30 seconds.

Ronin's only response is a soft grunt as he offhandedly pockets the small black button that controls the collar hidden around my neck. Swiftly he approaches a door close to the one he just entered labeled Janitor's Closet. Suddenly he drops to a crouch and starts picking at the lock on the handle with deft metal tools and precise movements.

The only experience I have with picking locks is using a bobby pin on a simple padlock and I can't help but admire Ronin's skill and confidence.

Within a minute he's done and opens the door with a soft click. We step into a small room with various cleaning supplies to our right and a couple dingy lockers to our left. The fluorescent light is startlingly bright for the tight space and my nose fills with the aroma of bleach and stale air. Ironic that the source of this building's cleanliness looks like it should be crawling with cockroaches.

While I'm here gawking Ronin wastes no time ripping open the dented locker doors and riffling through their limited contents. The majority of them are empty but on the fourth try Ronin strikes gold. He picks up a rumpled janitor's uniform sitting on the bottom shelf and breaths a sigh of relief.

"I was beginning to think James was full of it," he mutters.

Immediately Ronin strips off his jacket and shoes and slips into the dingy blue jumpsuit. The name tag sewn on his chest reads Ralph.

After zipping it up to his throat and tossing a ball cap on his head I find it hard to suppress my laughter. The dirty manual labor clothes only make the sterile white gauze taking up a large portion of his face stand out even more.

"I wish you could have burned a less conspicuous part of your body," I comment dryly without thinking.

At once the corner of his lip twitches and his eyes don't even have to meet mine with a light of mischief for me to see my mistake.

"Ew, shutup. Just..."

"I didn't say anything."

I scowl at the note of amusement in his voice. "And by the way, we're returning this necklace," I gesture to the jewels inside my purse.

Ronin rolls his eyes in disdain but doesn't argue.

He quickly stashes his spare clothes in the locker and we leave the closet hurriedly. I walk a few steps ahead of him to keep from suspicion and stop abruptly at the entrance to the vault I entered earlier. Thankfully I have a photographic memory and I looked when the old man typed in the code.

"What are you doing?" Ronin questions me in a low voice as he hovers nearby.

"What I said I was going to do, return the items that are not mine." I reply determinedly while punching in the correct numbers.

"I need that ID," he demands while holding out a hand for me to place it on.

"Keep your panties on, I'll be done with it in a few-" I scan the card I'm speaking of and the door opens a crack. "-Seconds." Then I slap it into his open palm pointedly.

"Fine, hurry up." Is the last thing I hear from Ronin before I enter the vault. I'm not sure how he plans on breaking into whatever's holding what he's after but he neglected to share any information that didn't retain to me so it's not my problem.

As the door clicks closed behind me the sounds echos slightly against the tall white walls. Being alone in this room puts me in some kind of trance. For a moment I just stand there, lost in the power I hold. Surrounded by boxes of people's most prized and hard earned valuables. Ronin is probably right. Some of these elaborate jewels and wads of cash were probably made by people who didn't really earn it. People who stole it from someone else, or people who inherited it as blood money. But there are probably those who earned it honestly. And those are the people I couldn't take advantage of. As I open the correct safe and carefully place the necklace inside, those are who I'm thinking of.