Chapter 2 #3
“… Bridger?” she let out with a choked gasp.
She said my name so softly I had barely heard it on her lips. Maybe she was scared to say it. It worked out, though, because Chase and Bennett didn’t need to know that me and Juliette had history, that she knew exactly who I was.
I was worried she’d run or start screaming, so I quickly turned her over so that she was back on her stomach. “Mhm. So you do remember me. Isn’t that sweet? Thought you might have forgotten me in this fancy mansion and all.”
“What are you doing?”
“What I’ve always done.”
“You’re robbing us.”
“Yes. Clearly. You’re observant.”
“Why are you doing this?”
“Because I like robbing people.”
“Why’d you pick us?”
“A rather unfortunate coincidence.”
“You picked this house on purpose.”
“I didn’t. I never pick the houses. I just steal whatever’s inside.”
“What’s wrong with you? Get off me!” Fidgeting under me, she did her best to shift me away from her body. I was too strong for that. She should have known that. “Get off!”
“There’s nothing wrong with me,” I said. “There’s something wrong with your husband, though. That little pussy looks terrified.”
“Can you blame him?”
“He’s not even trying to fight,” I pointed out.
“You are going to get caught, Bridger.”
I hissed at how loudly she spoke, pressing up against her tighter.
My eyes landed on the closet doorway, the soft murmuring of Bennett and Chase present in the not so far off distance.
“Do not say my name again. You don’t know me and I don’t know you, okay?
Because if you know my name, that means you know who I am, and that makes tracking those guys in there a lot easier, and they won’t want you calling the cops and ratting on them. ”
There was a long silence before she finally broke it. “I hate you,” she said softly.
“You said that already. On the last day we saw each other. Remember? You said it like you really meant it, too.”
“I did.”
“You didn’t used to hate me.”
“How could I not hate you after what you did to me?”
“I didn’t do shit to you.”
“You’re still a lying scumbag, Bridger.”
My tongue clicked. “What did I just say?”
“Whatever. I don’t care. Just… Just don’t touch… Don’t touch my bag,” she said, her voice barely a whisper. “My bag. The pink one. That one… Please don’t take that bag…”
I scoffed. “It’s a fucking bag. You can afford to buy another one.”
“But that one. Don’t touch it. Right in the middle of the shelf. The third shelf. Fifth bag from the left. The hot pink one. The Chanel one. Please.”
My brows pulled together at all that anxiety in her voice. I didn’t exactly blame her considering the situation, but Christ, it was a goddam bag and I knew she had more.
“It’s just a bag,” I said. “You’ve got a million of them. You can buy a million more tomorrow.”
“I need it.”
I snorted. “No, you don’t need your precious hot pink Chanel bag, you spoiled fucking brat.”
She groaned softly. “You don’t get it.”
“Explain it to me then.”
“You wouldn’t understand.”
“I’m giving you a chance to help me understand.”
She paused. Tensed up. Hissed. “Just do it. Take it. Just steal whatever you want to steal and get out of my house and my life. You ruined my life before, and now I see you’re trying to do that again.”
“Mm, you’re truly living a terrible life,” I said, eyes darting around the room.
It looked like every other home I had robbed.
Rich people didn’t have good taste. The space was all white, clinical, and boring.
White curtains, white floor, white furniture up against the walls.
“Big house, fancy shit, rich husband. Does your daddy like him? Your daddy never liked me.”
“Gordon’s not like you.”
I chuckled lowly. “I can see that. Guy’s old as hell.”
“Shut up,” she snapped.
“How old is he?”
“None of your business.”
“Looks old enough to be your daddy.”
“Why do you care?”
“Should I go in there and ask him?”
My threat did something to her, because a second later, she finally let out an annoyed huff. “He’s forty-nine, okay?”
I snorted. “Didn’t know you were into that shit.”
“What are they doing in there? What are they taking?”
“Whatever we steal from you tonight can be bought again. I’m sure you can afford it.”
“That doesn’t mean you can just break into people’s homes and terrorize them.”
“You call this terrorizing, sweetheart?” I chuckled lowly, my fingers grazing along the soft skin of her shoulder. “It could be so much more worse. You want me to make it worse?”
She drew in a sharp breath. “Don’t. Please don’t.”
“Not for you,” I said. I had no intention of putting her through any pain. “For him.”
“What?”
“I could do it, honey.” Another nickname, but I could never really help myself around her. “Could go in there and put a bullet right in his head. It’d be so much fucking fun, don’t you think?” My lips pressed to her ear. “I could do it. Just end his life in a second flat.”
“You can’t. You can’t do that.”
“Why not?”
“You can’t kill us!”
“I wouldn’t kill you, princess. I’d kill him, though. In fact, I’m real fuckin’ tempted to do that,” I muttered, thinking about the way he had snapped at Juliette earlier. “Just drag him in here and slit his throat wide open. You wanna see it? I wanna see that so fuckin’ bad.”
“Bridger.”
“Did you miss me?” I suddenly took the conversation somewhere else, because Jesus Christ, it had been so damn long since I had seen her. Talked to her. Felt her.
“What?” she gasped.
“You heard me. Did you miss me?”
“No!”
“Not even when I got carted off to prison?”
“Not even a little bit.”
I hummed. “I thought about you every day when I was in prison. Had nothing else to do when I was stuck in there for two fucking years for a crime I had nothing to do with.”
“Oh, you’re still lying about that, huh? Some things never change.”
“I’ve never fucking lied to you. And there I was, stuck in that little cell, while you carried on with life like everything was just fucking peachy.
What’d you do, princess? I bet you got everything you ever wanted.
Where’d you meet him? Huh? Country club?
Yacht party? Retirement home? Is that how you met him?
Is that how you fell in love?” I asked with gritted teeth, because the thought of Juliette being in love with anyone but me was more enraging than I ever could have realized.
She had given her heart to another man. The fact had me aching, had me feeling a searing burning pain from top to bottom, because that was supposed to be me. “Is that what fucking happened?”
“You’re so jealous,” she said with a laugh. It sounded different, though. Not as light, not as airy, not as drenched with warmth. Not like before. “He’s given me everything I’ve ever wanted.”
“Yeah, I get it,” I said lowly, my eyes finding that sparkling ring on her left hand.
Reaching forward, I grazed her finger and then the ring.
It was an ugly fucking diamond: big and square, taking up half the size of her finger with all the subtlety of a brick.
Unclassy as hell for someone like her. “How much did this cost?”
“Why would I tell you that?”
“It looks expensive.” Expensive, but hideous. I pulled the ring off her finger. “You said yes to that shit?” I stuffed the piece of jewelry into my pocket, my eyes falling on to Juliette’s ringless finger. She looked so much better like that.
There was some commotion to my right and I turned to see Chase exiting the closet, a few duffel bags in his hands.
He gave them a careless throw to the floor before delving through the bedside tables.
He grabbed what looked like to be some gold toned fountain pens, stashing them away in his pockets.
“You two havin’ fun in here?” he asked, picking the bags back up.
“So much fun. Isn’t that right, sweetheart?” I asked Juliette.
“Best night of my life,” she said, and it sounded like her teeth were gritted.
“You got everything? Where’s the other one?” I asked Chase.
“Right here,” Bennett said, popping up in the doorway with four bags in hand. “Your husband’s in there. We tied him up, but very soon, your alarm will be back in working order and your security company will be notified. They’ll come in and help you.”
“That’s so kind of you,” Juliette said bitterly.
“You get a pink bag?” I asked, feeling the weight of that ring in my pocket.
It was burning a fucking hole through my pants.
I hated it. Fucking ugly classless looking thing.
Something about it being on her finger made me see red.
I didn’t like seeing another man’s ring on that finger. “Chanel. Hot pink or some shit?”
“No!” Juliette called out. “Don’t take that bag. Don’t take it. Take any bag but that one. Please, please, please.”
“Sounds like it’s important.” I grinned. “Sounds like it might be worth a lot. Spoiled little princess doesn’t wanna let it go.”
“Please, any bag but that one,” Juliette let out. “Please.”
“Spoiled little princess can buy another one. I saw it. I’ll grab it,” Chase said, moving back into the walk-in closet.
Juliette let out a cry that quickly turned muffled as she pressed her face into the pillows. It was a fucking bag and she was being a drama queen about it. She never used to be so hung up on material shit.
“You’re gonna tie her up, right?” asked Bennett, throwing some rope at the bed before heading for the doorway. “We’re done here.”
“Is that necessary? You already got what you wanted!” Juliette said, lifting her head up a little.
The words made me chuckle as I reached behind me to grab the rope. Gathering Juliette’s hands together, I began to loop it around her wrists. “Yeah, I got her. I’ll meet you guys downstairs.”
Giving Bennett a nod, I waited for him to go and for Chase to come back out. Chase tossed the purse to the bed, letting it land by my feet before he took off. Once the sound of their footsteps completely faded, I slid the rope off her wrists and threw it to the floor.
“Well, aren’t you gonna do it?” Juliette snapped.
“No,” I said simply, shifting my weight so I could flip her around.
I still had her under me, her dark hair sprawled against her crisp white pillow.
She was still so fucking beautiful. The biggest, prettiest eyes I had ever seen looked back at me.
Those hazel eyes, all green with flecks of gold.
I stayed like that, sitting on top of her, wondering what would have happened if I had been able to give her the life she was living.
Would she have been happy with me in her big house?
She had always told me that she never wanted one.
“Take your mask off,” she said softly.
My eyebrows raised behind it. “Why?”
“I haven’t seen your face in five years…”
“Did you miss it?”
“Did you miss mine?”
“No,” I lied, saying the word fast and hard. “Not for a second.”
“Why aren’t you tying me up?” she asked.
“Someone needs to help your pussy husband out. Guess you’ll be the one to do it.” I checked my watch. We didn’t have much time until the alarm restarted, but I just wanted another minute or two to look at her.
There used to be a time when I ached for her.
I ached for her every fucking day, even when I was behind bars eating shitty prison food and she was out having dinner at the country club.
She hadn’t been concerned in the slightest that I had two years ripped away from me, as I sat there in my cell miserable as all hell.
But that didn’t stop her from looking the way she did: all soft and pretty and still so fucking perfect. And that didn’t stop me from still loving to look at her. It wasn’t fair that she was still so gorgeous. That she was even more beautiful than the last time I laid eyes on her.
“Stop it,” she said harshly, dragging me from my thoughts.
“Stop what?”
“Looking at me like I’m yours. I’m not yours anymore and I haven’t been for a long time.”
I nodded at her slowly. “I know that.” I got off the bed, instantly missing the feeling of her soft, warm body pushed up against mine.
She moved. Fast. Right for that fucking bag, but I was faster. I snatched it up, gripping it loosely, lazily, waving it her way before stepping backwards.
“What are you hiding in here, huh? Must be important.”
“Give it back,” she said. “Please, Bridger, give it back.”
I smiled. “You’re not getting it back, princess. Tell your husband to buy you another one.”
“You don’t get it. You don’t. You can’t just walk in here and take what’s mine.”
“That’s exactly what I can do. What I just did.”
She paused. She just stilled. Kneeled there on the bed, eyes all big, lips trembling, her fingers yanking at the sheets below her like she needed something to keep her steady.
“I hate you so much,” she finally said, her voice sounding on the verge of breaking.
I scoffed. “Yeah, you said that already. Thanks for all the gifts. You made it real easy tonight.”
I walked backwards, eyes on Juliette the whole time. She didn’t run for the phone. Or for her husband. She just sat there, watching me as I watched her.
“See you around, princess,” I said before turning, my feet fast against the floor so I could meet the guys downstairs.
She was right about her not being mine anymore.
We both knew that. That didn’t mean I had forgotten what it had felt like when she had been.
The ring I had taken from her was still in my pocket.
It was like carrying fire with me. I imagined her bare finger for a moment.
No ring, no diamond. She looked better that way.