Episode 6
Episode 6
The Kindness of a Stranger
MAIA
The airport bathroom stunk like shit. Two of the toilets were clogged again. I held my breath as I pulled out the wallet and phone I’d pilfered from the hot Zaddy I’d purposely run into at gate 14. I hadn’t meant to trip, and was surprised when he caught me, protecting me from hitting the floor. Though the fall wasn’t what had me shaking in my knockoff Doc Martens.
It was his eyes.
The steely gray pierced through me as if he could see straight to my soul. It’d unnerved me. Made me want to stop and question my choices. Except my choices were eat or not eat. Pay the rent on the tiny studio I rented above Sam’s garage or potentially go back to living on the streets.
My landlord was cool though. He’d give me more time to pay up if I needed it. Sam was a man who had fallen on hard times more often than not in his past. His motorcycle club had given him what he called a second chance. An opportunity to make something of himself and find his purpose. Sam wanted the same for me. The man had become like a big, gruff, scary older brother with knuckles of steel and the softest, mushiest heart on the planet.
Sam had saved me all those years ago and continued to do so by being the number one family I chose. Though Alana was a close second. The memory of when Alana and I met four years ago skated across my memory.
The airport was hopping as usual. Travelers coming off planes, holding the hands of screaming children, dragging carry-ons over their shoulders and rolling down by their feet as they attempted to avoid the extra baggage fees by bringing all their crap onto the planes.
Thanksgiving was always a crush of activity, which made it perfect for pickpocketing. And I never stole more than what I truly believed a person could live without. Usually if I stole a wallet, I’d pilfer whatever cash they had and attempt one or two charges on their credit card before cutting it up. Most people wouldn’t even notice a small charge on their credit statements. And I didn’t charge material things or wants. When I stole from someone, it was because I needed something to survive. A warm coat to get me through the winter. New pair of shoes to protect my feet. Perhaps a hot meal that day. A bed to sleep in.
I wasn’t without a conscience. It’s just that after what I’d lived through and currently had to do to survive the streets, my priorities were different than the everyday person’s. If they could afford to travel, they could afford a ten-dollar meal, or a thirty-dollar used winter coat from the thrift store. At least it’s what I told myself day in and day out so that I didn’t go down a dark path and numb my pain and suffering with drugs or alcohol.
I knew I could sell my body for cash. I’d been approached by more pimps than I cared to admit in my nineteen years, but after the abuse I’d lived through, the mere thought made my mouth fill with a sour taste and the need to vomit.
Slowly, I breathed through the sludge invading my thoughts and focused on the travelers. One beautiful woman stuck out like a beacon of light in an unrelenting sea of nothingness.
She was petite, definitely of Asian descent and had perfectly lined dark eyes that drew attention to her elegant features. The woman had long black hair that she’d slicked back into a severe ponytail, the length running down her spine like a silky ribbon. She wore a winter-white suit that had me wondering how she kept it from getting dirty. Her lips were painted a bright cherry red that demanded attention.
I took in my mark, wishing I could be like her. Live a life where I paraded through an airport looking like a million dollars, not a care in the world. What would that be like? To be so beautiful and poised that people were drawn to you like moths to a flame? I sure as hell was as I followed her through the airport determining what I could pilfer that might go unnoticed long enough for me to get the hell out of Dodge.
Then she entered the bathroom. Bingo. Bathrooms were a hotspot for a girl like me. A lot of people left their belongings right out in the open, across from where they used the toilet. People were so stupid sometimes. I couldn’t imagine trusting perfect strangers with my things while I sat behind a flimsy door.
Wisely, my mark took her rolling luggage into the space with her. But that didn’t mean everyone had. I spied a plain black suitcase in the corner of the room across from one of the stalls. As patrons washed their hands, I waited and watched until the ones who had been at the sinks left. Then I curled my hand around the suitcase and walked right out of the bathroom with it. I sure hoped it had electronic devices and jewelry instead of just clothing and regular toiletries. I could have used some deodorant though. I’d run out of the free one I’d gotten from the gospel mission downtown.
On quick feet, I pushed through the patrons until I made my way outside. I’d need to score something expensive if I was to hock enough stuff to pay for room and board the next couple days. The last thing I wanted was to stay at the shelter again. Not that it was horrible, but it was only one step above the streets, and if I didn’t get there in time, all of the beds would be taken. I needed a hot shower and a place I could wash the few outfits I hauled around. I hadn’t had a full night’s rest in at least a week and it was showing in the way I was grifting. Usually when I visited the airport, I’d have a pocket full of cash. Except the two wallets I’d stolen had only contained a few bucks. Not enough to score me a day or more in a one-star hotel.
As I scanned the ground transportation pick-up line, I laid eyes on the woman in white. She stood with her phone in her hand, a cool pair of expensive sunglasses perched on her pert nose. That’s when I noticed the diamond-encrusted watch on her wrist. It was loose enough I’d be able to flick that latch and have it off her and in my pocket in less than a few seconds.
My heart hammered against my ribcage and the guilt and shame rose through my chest as I approached.
I didn’t want to steal from her.
But I had to.
A diamond watch equaled a bed and a hot shower probably for a whole week. Maybe two depending on whether or not it was a name brand. Which it had to be. The woman oozed money from her pristine suit and makeup all the way to her red-bottomed shoes, which I’d caught a glimpse of while she rolled her ankle and readjusted her footing where she stood waiting for a car. Probably a limo.
Just as I suspected, a white limo slowed in front of the woman. My timing would need to be perfect. Picking up speed, I rolled the stolen piece of luggage her way. When I got close, I bumped into her back with my shoulder. She spun to the side, and I was there, as planned, to grab hold of her wrist. With my finger, I flicked the latch and let gravity do its job, as she fell backward. Since I’d done this move a hundred times before, I braced her shoulders with my free arm and pocketed the watch at the same time with my other.
“Oh, shoot!” I yelped to make it look real as I hauled her back to her feet where she teetered on those high heels.
Her glasses slipped off her face, but she caught them with a catlike reflex in midair. “Merci,” she spoke in a cultured French accent I hadn’t expected. “I mean, thank you, dear,” she reverted to English.
“Uh, sure, no problem. Take care.” I turned around to make my escape, but was thwarted when a cool hand encircled my wrist.
“I’m sorry, but I do believe you have something that belongs to me.” Her voice was direct and brooked no argument.
Fear prickled against the back of my neck and my hands went clammy. “Um, no, I think you must be mistaken.” I looked around aimlessly for effect.
The woman’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Dear one, I know when I’ve been stolen from. Had you not scratched my wrist when you unlatched the watch, you may have fooled me. Alas, I am not an easy target.”
My entire body went ice cold, goosebumps skittering along my skin. Today was the day I’d get taken to jail. And based on the value of the watch I’d stolen, I’d be looking at a felony.
I was going to end up in prison. I’d never survive.
Panicked, I yanked the watch out of my pocket and shoved it in front of her face. “Please, ma’am. Take it back. I’m sorry. I just needed a place to stay tonight and a watch like this goes for a lot. Please don’t call the cops,” I pleaded, tears filling my eyes and falling down my cheeks.
She took the watch, returned it to her wrist, and tilted her head. She assessed me—from the uneven, shaggy lengths of my dirty hair to my beat-up sneakers with a hole where my big toe was pushing through. They were too small, but they were all I had.
“Get in the car.” She gestured to the limo.
I looked around and thought about running for it. Leaving the suitcase and bolting as fast as my skinny legs could take me.
“If you run, I’ll just have my driver chase you. He’s an expert at retrieving things.”
A huge, muscular white guy with a barrel chest and a sour expression stood right behind me. He looked very capable of being able to do any manner of physical things, especially catching a hungry pickpocket with very little muscle mass to speak of.
I got into the limo and scrambled to the side. The driver put my pilfered luggage in the trunk along with the woman’s things.
She entered smoothly and her driver shut the door. Her onyx-colored gaze set upon me, and I felt like a bug under a microscope about to be dissected.
“What is your name?” she asked.
“Are you taking me to the cops?” I asked, ignoring her question.
She shook her head. “No. I’m taking you to the hotel where I have my offices.”
“Why?” I croaked, wondering what it meant that she was taking me to her workplace. Which happened to be a hotel.
“Because you said you needed a place to stay tonight. I’m in the position to provide you with one.” She smiled primly.
“I don’t understand. Why would you help me when I just tried to steal from you?” I frowned.
The woman adjusted the watch I’d tried to steal and smiled almost sweetly. “Let’s just say I’ve been in your position before. The kindness of a stranger can go a long way. Now what is your name?”
“Maia.” I cleared my throat. “Maia Fields.”
“Nice to meet you, Maia. You can call me Madam Alana.”
The slamming of the door on the toilet stall next to me snapped me out of the reverie. I stared down at the wallet I’d taken off Mr. Salt & Pepper.
Rhodes Davenport was his name.
Address on his ID stated Los Angeles, California. Must be here on business or pleasure. Though I never understood why anyone wanted to come to Las Vegas for pleasure. It was a shit hole. A place where people lost their houses and college funds for their kids, all in the hopes of winning big. There was a saying in Vegas: The house always wins. And it did. It was fact, and yet people came to Sin City by the droves, desperate to change their lives for the better.
Never happened, but they kept coming.
I scanned the rest of the info on the card. He was thirty-eight years old, six feet even, and two hundred and twenty pounds. He had several credit cards I didn’t care about, including a fancy-ass black American Express. Those meant the guy I’d grifted from was obscenely wealthy. Only people that had bookoo bucks had one of those. It was like finding a unicorn. I could easily rob this man for thousands and he’d likely not even notice. Then I thought back to the bratty-ass daughter with him. She’d been a piece of work. Demanding he carry her bags, talking to him in that bitchy tone I noticed spoiled teens often used.
The fact that he even cared should have meant something to her.
And then I’d swooped in and had taken his wallet and phone. Goddamn. It suddenly made me feel like shit. He’d been super sweet to me too. He'd worried I’d been hurt when I was the one who’d created the entire incident in order to steal from him. I looked in the long space that held cash. It was loaded with green bills. A few hundreds, a couple fifties, and a wad of twenties. I pocketed the cash and left the rest.
I’d give it back. The phone, too, even though it would have scored me a couple hundred with my contact.
I fought with myself internally as I watched Rhodes from a distance, speaking with his daughter at the baggage carousel and then walking outside.
If I was going to let my conscience lead, I needed to move now. I approached the teenager who’d just gotten off the phone.
“Hey, um, I ran into your dad earlier and he dropped these.” I handed her the phone and wallet.
“Ugh, he’s so dumb. How could he lose his wallet and phone at the same time?” Her expression twisted into an ugly one that did nothing for her natural beauty.
“Stranger things have happened. Besides, he was making sure I was okay. He blocked my fall and ended up slamming into the concrete. If you’d been with him, you might have seen it. He was a real hero. Prevented me from getting hurt,” I added for some insane reason, talking him up to his kid.
Why was I defending my mark?
I was losing it. Must have been. It was the only explanation.
“A hero? My Dad? Pffftttt. Hardly. He never does anything that isn’t work related. Unless he’s trying to annoy me.” She sighed dramatically and wrapped a long curl of blonde hair around her finger.
“Maybe he just wants to connect with you?” I asked flippantly.
What. The. Fuck.
I was getting too involved. I needed to shut this down ASAP.
“Well, anyway, please give him my best,” I blathered and turned around, crashing right into the man himself.
“Christ!” he cursed as I stomped fully on his foot while his hands curled around my shoulders, holding me in place.
I tried to push around him, but he held on tight.
“You, again! Where the hell is my wallet, you little thief!” he barked.
“Dad, it’s right here. You dropped your phone and your wallet.” His daughter yanked me out of his hold. “Relax. Jeez. She was just returning them.”
“Oh.” He held his hands in the air palms up in supplication, and I slid to the side. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know.”
He also didn’t know I’d taken all his cash—not a small amount—so I needed to skedaddle quickly.
“No harm, no foul, right?” I repeated the weird phrase he’d said to me earlier. I pointed to the carousel that only had a few bags left on it. “I think your bags made it out,” I noted.
When both of them turned around to check, I bolted.
“Hey, come back!” he called out, his voice spreading like an echo through the large open space and drifting away the farther I ran.
That shit had been too close.
Why the hell did I go back to return what I’d stolen?
Maybe Madam Alana was right. I was developing a conscience after years of grifting. It was time I made a big change. She’d been asking me to be a candidate for The Marriage Auction for years. I think the time had come.
I pulled out my personal phone from a small hidden pack around my waist and dialed her number. She answered on the first ring.
“Maia, are you okay, dear?”
“I’ll do it. Put me in the auction this time around.” I gulped as the idea of marrying someone made me break out into a cold sweat.
“You’re sure?” she clarified.
“No, but it’s the best option I have.”