Griffin
Kalista goes off to take a shower.
I go to the kitchen and grab a bottle of Scotch. I don’t bother with a glass. My body is wound like a fucking top right now, and I need more than a glass can hold.
The feel of the cool bottle in my fingers does little to calm the heat coming off my body.
Normally, there’s a sense of satisfaction when I crack open a fresh bottle of Scotch. But not this time.
It’s incredibly ungentlemanly to drink Scotch like this, especially when it’s Macallan 1946 single malt. And while I pride myself on being a proper English gentleman, I need to drown this raging fire of lust billowing inside me.
There is one glaring hole in my plan, however.
Because alcohol—as anyone with a fifth grade education will tell you—only makes a fire burn stronger.
A heavy sigh destroys the silence in the air as I look down at the bottle gripped in my hand.
That’s a damn good Scotch, at least.
I set the bottle down on the counter and fold my arms over my chest. I can feel my heart racing like a Bugatti Veyron on the Autobahn.
“Come on, Griffin. Stop acting like a bloody tit for crying out loud. You’re acting like you’ve never been around a beautiful woman before.”
I’d hoped that voicing my thoughts out loud would add some weight to them.
It doesn’t. My brow furrows in frustration, and I try to focus on what lead to my current situation.
So she wants to be a thief. I’ll admit that she has the natural talent for it.
Fuck, I had almost completely missed her taking off my belt.
But is she serious about it? Or is it just something she wants to do to pass the time while we figure out this whole shady botched kidnapping and the weird conspiracy that seems to be forming up around it?
I hear the water in the bathroom shut off.
My fingers wrap around the neck of the Scotch, and I take another long swill of the amber liquid.
I take a moment to relish in the smooth burn against my throat. The long smokiness and sweet citrus linger like a lover’s kiss. It doesn’t help like I hoped, but at least it gives me a sweet substitute to taste instead.
When the door to the bathroom opens, I’m already standing in the hallway, waiting for her to emerge.
She looks at me half confused and half wanting.
“Were you sincere in wanting to learn how to be a thief? Or are you just bored?”
“I was serious,” she says with conviction. “I don’t just do things out of boredom. I want this.”
“Alright, love. Get dressed. We’re going shopping.”
I take her to a small shopping center filled with small boutiques. Big shops are nice and all, but you don’t get the same kind of hands on customer service that you get at these shops.
Our first stop is a favorite of mine. There’s no better place to get shoes in all of Barcelona than here.
“So, why are we here? Are you going to steal a suit or something?”
She sounds as though she can barely contain her excitement.
“No, we’re not here to steal something.”
The excitement fades from her face, giving way to confusion.
“So then why are we here?”
“To buy some shoes. Why else would be come to shoe store?”
“Ummm, to steal? You’re a thief, aren’t you?” She’s obviously unimpressed and disappointed.
“I’m a thief, but I’m a thief with a code.”
“A code?” she asks with a raised eyebrow.
Instead of being unimpressed and disappointed, she now looks confused and curious.
“Yes, a gentleman’s code of honor.”
Kalista’s hands fall to her hips and she turns to face me completely.
“Okay, this requires some explanation.”
“I act by a certain code. A set of rules if you will. The first rule I have is to never steal from someone who can’t afford the consequences. Like this store, for example.”
“How is this store an example? Look at these designer shoes. The owner must make a living,” she says in a hushed whisper.
“You know that woman who’s been helping us? Maria?”
Kalista looks over at the dark-haired woman behind the counter, who’s been of great help since we arrived, and nods.
“She owns this shop…has for years. She doesn’t live some upscale and luxurious life like us. She makes enough to live comfortably and to ensure her children are taken care of. To steal from her would be taking food off their plate.”
“Alright, so what makes people like me and my family different?”
“If I was to head Stateside and steal all of your mother’s jewelry, how would that affect your family’s bank account?”
“It wouldn’t?”
“Exactly. Your family is more than capable of affording the consequences. Besides, Maria has been incredibly helpful. And stealing these shoes is not only rude, it’s also beneath me.”
There’s a slow smile that pulls at the corner of her lips as she starts to see the truth and understanding in my words.
A lesser person would scoff and dismiss that explanation. They would try to make an argument that a thief is a thief, and that there is no honor among them. But Kalista gets it.
“Any other rules, Robin Hood?”
“Oh no, love. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not Robin Hood. I don’t steal from the rich to give to the poor. I steal for myself.”
I laugh and wave my hand in dismissal of her words. My words were only a half truth, if I’m being completely honest. While I do steal for myself and use it to fund my way of life, I’m not completely selfish either.
I’ve donated millions of my own money—anonymously mind you—to several different charities over the years, mostly to those that involve helping children. But even doing that—and saving Kalista—certainly doesn’t make me one of the good guys.
I’m not a hero like Superman, regardless of the way she looks at me sometimes.
“Uh huh. So what are your other rules?”
“No weapons.”
“No weapons? Then how do you defend yourself?”
“I shouldn’t have to worry about defending myself if I’m doing my job correctly. Weapons invite violence, and using violence to steal is a coward’s way. There is no skill or finesse in sticking a gun in someone’s face.”
“So it’s a matter of pride?”
I nod and laugh. She really might be cut out for this after all.
I’m impressed by just how quickly she gets it.
“Now grab the shoes you like to go with that dress you picked out so we can go.”
“Go? Go where?” Kalista’s excitement returns with force.
Her eyes flare with barely contained exuberance. The calmness of her sapphire orbs turns to a raging sea that I feel swept up in. It reminds me of myself when I had first started in the business, learning at the hands of my mentor, Chimera.
It’s refreshing to share in such excitement that comes with being a novice once more—almost like a reminder of why I got into this line of work the first time.
“Well, you’ll see.”
Kalista’s lips purse together as she sighs and narrows her gaze at me. She doesn’t like not knowing, but she has no choice but to play along.
We get what we want and make it for our next destination.
She looks at me surprised as we roll into the parking lot of a gym.
“Is this your way of telling me I need to work out and tone up?”
“Heavens no, love. You are the picture of perfection. We both know this,” I say with a wink and grin.
There’s a soft flush in her cheeks before she clears her throat and regroups. “So why are we here?”
“It’s simple. I’m going to teach you how to do some rock climbing.”
“Rock climbing?” she asks with a wary smile.
“And parkour.”
“Do I want to know why?”
“Well, how else are you going to learn to scale buildings?”