Chapter 15
15
The two thieves looked down at what they’d stolen—one with a wide smile and the other’s lowered-brow expression filled with doubt.
“I don’t understand what we can do with all this shit we’re getting?”
The head thief shrugged, casual but confident, the smirk never leaving their face. “I have someone lined up who’ll pay good money for it. I don’t ask questions, and they don’t tell me what they do with it. I take the cash, pay you a percentage, and I keep getting whatever I can. It’s clean, easy.”
Their partner stopped pacing and shot a skeptical look their way. “No local pawn shops? Seems like it’d be quicker with less hassle.”
The one in charge chuckled softly, shaking their head. “Pawn shops start asking questions. Too much heat. And they won’t take cards. Cash, sure, but no one wants to get tied up with stolen plastic.”
The partner, leaning against the wall, dropped his voice. “Why are we even bothering with credit cards? As soon as the owners notice, they’ll cancel them. We’re not making anything off that.”
Eyes gleamed in the low light, and the grin widened as if the very idea was laughable. “I asked the same thing when I first started. My fence told me he’s got people who can work magic with those numbers. They open new accounts with fake identities. It’s all fraud. I don’t need to know the details. I just get him what he needs, and he pays me. No questions, no strings.”
There was a flash of something more dangerous in their expression as they reached into the bag and pulled out the sleek black handgun, running their fingers over the cold metal. “And this… this is the fucking cherry on top.”
Their partner swallowed hard, eyes flicking nervously to the weapon before shifting away again. “I think we should mix our schedule up. Take a break. We don’t want the cops to start putting pieces together.”
Narrowed eyes glared, and the easygoing grin was replaced by something colder and sharper. “Don’t screw this up. We’ve got a good thing going, a damn good payout. Stay smart, stay careful. You start making rookie mistakes, and we’re both screwed.”
The nervous partner gave a curt nod, but the tension didn’t ease. The weight of their choices hung between them, unspoken but palpable. The thrill of the risk, the high of the reward—it was a delicate balance, one they both danced around with practiced caution.
The thief holding the gun ran their fingers over the metal, almost admiring it before tucking it back into the bag. “We’re in this for the long haul. Don’t get sloppy, and we’ll be rolling in cash before anyone knows what hit ’em.”