The Hustle

Chapter 3- The Key to Hiding

After deciding to chain the goons hand to the door using my deadbolt, and taking his gun and putting it in my hard to reach above the door shelving I move on with my plan.

I just need to be able to sneak back into my bedroom to turn off the shower and walk out.

I peek around the corner when I hear the goon say to Handsome
"Hey boss look what I found," fingers crossed it's not a gun they found behind my vanity, I blush red with embarrassment and anger. In between his disgusting hands is a beautiful (and expensive) piece of lingerie. Stolen from the Victoria's Secret Fashion Show collection, and encrusted with Swarovski crystals. It's one of a kind and ridiculously expensive. How dare he touch that! I don't want to know where his meaty hands have been before touching an article of clothing that could pay for the hit I want to put out on him.
"Cazzo! You fucking idiot! Put that back where you found it," Handsome chastises grabby hands goon and although I can't see his face, he sounds angry at how unprofessional his man is working.
"Yes sir, sorry sir" he just shoves the article of clothing in the drawer with reckless abandon. No folding, no care for where he found it.

I'll fucking kill him for that.

When the goon and Handsome leave my bedroom and head into my guest sweet, I make my move. I head into my bedroom, go in the bathroom and turn the shower off. Still in my silly robe and my pretty undies, with my hair piled in a big bun on top of my head, I head into my bedroom.
I grab two throwing knives and tuck them into the back of my bra and put on my earrings that pop out into small throwing stars. I also go over and fold up my nice lingerie checking for any rips or torn off crystals. That meaty handed bastard is lucky because in my minimal time to look I can't find anything wrong.
I hear the men in the other room yell at each other and like any normal person would do I scream my head off and run to grab my landline. Just as I'm about to reach the landline phone Handsome yells out to me
"M'am stop we are with the local authorities!" I pick it up anyways. And scream again.
"You need to calm down miss," says Handsome.
"I-I need to see your badge p-please," he holds a hand up as if I'm a wild animal he's trying to tame, and slowly pulls a badge out of the inside of his jacket. I know it's fake but it looks very realistic. Might be a real badge on the wrong man. Interesting.
I breathe in deeply and pull my robe tighter around myself. 'Accidentally' flashing a bit of exposed flesh to both men.
It's not until I realize that the Goon has car keys in his hands that I realize I forgot to hide the most damming piece of evidence. Those Audi keys.

My ass already hurts at the thought of trying to pull an explanation out of it.
"Why are you here? Why didn't you knock? Is this even allowed?" I ask a bunch of questions continuing to act frazzled.
A common fact just dawned on me: The crime world is heavily misogynistic, it will take almost nothing to convince these men I'm completely innocent in being a (pretty damn good) conartist.
"Miss where did you get these keys?" Questions Handsome, not even answering my questions that any normal person would've been asking.
"Those aren't my keys, my car keys are hanging on the hook in the hall," both men look at each other and then back at me. I can see the gears turning in their dumb heads.
"Did anyone stay the night last night with you?" I look at him aghast,
"If you're insinuating that I had a male guest last night, than yes you'd be right. A friend stayed," I cross my arms and feign annoyance.
"And where's your friend now?" Asks the goon. So stupid. So dumb. Classic boys.
"I'm not sure I woke up and he was gone, he doesn't normally stay the night.... Uh, He doesn't put a label on our relationship either, that type, you know?" I mutter to them, sounding like a weak little girl who let some guy play her into being a little toy for him. Sounds realistic if the conartist Hustle was a man.
"You're going to have to come with us," Handsome says and the goon grabs my upper arm and drags me out the room. I rip my arm out of his hold
"Excuse me! But this is my home, I'd like to see your warrant please! Or else I'm going to be calling security," I state and huff and cross my arms.
"You've got me little one, I'm not the police. I don't have a warrant. But you'll come with me if you want to live, because your little friend owes me a visit and I need some insurance that he's going to show up," I let tears leak out my eyes as the goon grabs me, and I beg for them to let me go. I beg and say that I. D.o.n.t want them to hurt me.
"He's probably going to come back! Please don't hurt me! He brings me lunch almost everyday! Please leave me alone!"
When we get to the living room and Handsome swears I know he's seen his beaten up goon.
"He's already come back sweetheart and he seems to have ran off. We'll just have to lure him back, no?" He turns and looks at me with such a cocky look on his face that I want to punch his teeth in. But I play my part. Whimpering and crying. Innocent little bystander that's me!

The key to hiding, is hiding in plain sight.