Killa and the Thief

Chapter 1

She moved through the busy streets of New Orleans, loving this time of year. Mardi Gras was always one of her favourites, the poor unsuspecting people. She chuckled away to herself, anticipation building. This is what she lived for knowing she would make a killing with her skills as a pickpocket.

Years previously she had been caught when starting out and had a string of misdemeanours on her record and had been warned if she was caught again then there was no escape, she would be doing time in the big house. That single thought was enough for her to end her criminal ways but it didn't last long, not after she met him.

When she first met Randy he was charming and cute, promised her the world. He was always taking her out for meals and showering her with gifts, never letting her pay for anything. She honest go God felt like a queen

Jessalyn should have realised it was too good to be true.

Once the first 6 months were done it felt like he had changed overnight. He became snappy, making demands of her, never going further than raising his voice but Jessalyn felt stuck.

In those 6 months he had managed to isolate her from all of her friends and family, not that she had many of them to begin with, but now she just had him.

Randy had not taken long to find out everything he could about Jessalyn, this included her unique skill set. He was the one who had recognised the stupid pun on her name and put together the reason she was called it. Jessalyn Amelia Ambrose had been given the name Jam by a green New Orleans cop who thought he was funny. Unfortunately for her like the pun it was it stuck.

That was when the changes between them became more destructive, Randy would say hurtful things in an attempt to get a rise from her, his current favourite "What kind of stupid ass name is Jessalyn, Jam suits you better seeing as you spread yourself for me."

Randy insisted on teaching her how to improve her pickpocketing skills and once she had gotten proficient let her loose on the streets. Anything she took he would take his personal cut for "making her who she is" it started at 20%, then it rose to 30%, then 50% and is now at 90%.

Jessalyn hadn't graduated high school with any decent qualifications meaning she couldn't go to college and had struggled to find work to pay for community college so she had resorted to a life of crime, one that Randy was now full on exploiting her for.

Since he was taking such a large cut from her it had been weeks since she had eaten a decent meal, months since she had any new clothes. She had resorted to raiding donations for homeless shelters and stealing leftovers from outside the cafes just to survive. Jessalyn knew she couldn't carry on like this but as he had always told her – he only does it because he loves her.

This vicious cycle continued for months and Jessalyn was falling more and more under Randy's control. She hated herself for it but couldn't see a way out.

A couple of years after she had first met him was when she knew she had to get out. He had made one of his usual demands, she was to go out and not come back until she had at least $2000 from the unsuspecting townfolk. She had refused saying she wasn't feeling well. She had woken up that morning with a fever, goosebumps covering her flesh and a feeling of a rolling stomach meaning she didn't dare eat for fear of it making its return. Illness though was not a good enough reason to "shirk her responsibilities in doing what the hell he tells her to." which was swiftly followed by a fist to the side of her face. Unable to react and get out of the way she received blow after blow to the face, chest, stomach everywhere Randy could reach. Booted feet and fists rained damage on her fragile frame. Only once she slipped into unconscious did the fear and pain stop.