The Thief: Wicked Ink

1. Jax

JAX

T he Past …

“Where do you think you’re going?” my father snaps as I walk down the stairs, heading for the front door.

“Out.” I’m nineteen and an adult, so I don’t have to tell him jackshit anymore.

“Not dressed like that you aren’t.” He waves his hand up and down the length of my body in disgust as he speaks.

I roll my eyes because here we go again.

Is this man ever going to let up? I’ve lived my entire life doing everything he’s asked of me, and I’m tired.

I can’t be that person anymore, I just can’t.

I’m not cut out to be a politician. That shit may be running through his veins, but it sure as hell isn’t running through mine.

I scoop up my skateboard from beside the front door, tucking it under my arm. Out of my peripheral vision, I see him storming in my direction. I know exactly what he’s going to do, he’s done it a million times in the past, and his outbursts are getting old.

“Get that thing off your head!” he screams, reaching for my baseball cap.

I manoeuvre my head to the right and then back to the left, avoiding his attempts to snatch it.

There’s a murderous glare in his eyes as he tries one final time.

“You’re an Albright, not some common thug.

I won’t have my son walking the streets dressed like that, do you hear me? ”

“It’s just a hat. Get over yourself, old man.” I’ve never spoken to my father like that before, I’ve always managed to bite my tongue, but I’m done with his bullshit.

When I reach for the door handle, he roughly latches onto my arm, tugging me back. I think the fact my father’s long-awaited plan is finally coming to fruition is the reason for my bad attitude. In two days, I’ll be heading to university.

Of course, he’s making me study political science, which is the last thing I want.

I don’t know why I crave my parent’s acceptance so much, but I do.

I feel trapped in a world I hate, far removed from the person I am deep inside.

The only plus is I’ll be getting out of this godforsaken town and away from him—away from my whole family.

My mother and brother aren’t much better.

Sometimes I swear I’m adopted. How can we have the same blood running through our veins, yet be nothing alike?

Why can’t my father see I’m not him, and no matter how hard he tries, I’ll never be?

I hate my life.

“You’re an adult now, when are you going to start acting like one?” he sneers as his fingers dig painfully into my flesh.

“One day … maybe.” I snatch my arm away.

“I’m not finished with you, boy.” He may not be finished with me, but I’m sure as hell finished with him.

I make a hasty retreat out the door and down the front steps.

I drop my skateboard onto the concrete path and place my foot on it.

“I don’t know why I wasted my money on that damn car! ” he yells as I skate away.

When I graduated high school last year, my father asked me what type of car I’d like. All my parents’ friends were buying their kid's cars, so naturally, we had to keep up with the Joneses. He was persistent, so I told him I wanted a classic, something cool like a 1967 Mustang.

I don’t know why he bothered asking, because he bought me a brand new Alfa-fucking-Romeo.

I don’t drive it because it’s the same type of car he has, the type made specifically for pole-stuck-up-their-arse show ponies.

It just screams, look at me, I’m a pretentious dickhead .

That’s not who I am. Give me my skateboard any day.

I don’t mean to sound ungrateful because I’m not, but material things have never meant much to me. I’d prefer my parents’ love, affection and acceptance any day. Regardless of what they believe, you can’t buy your kids’ love or their respect. It needs to be earned.

Without even thinking I head to the one place I don’t have to try to be someone I’m not: Candice’s house.

She’s not only my Candylicious, blonde, blue-eyed bombshell, she’s my best friend, the only person on this earth who truly gets me.

We’re kindred spirits. She’s the daughter of a single mother, and like me, a social outcast.

I’ve had a secret crush on Candice since the first day we met.

Keeping my hands to myself has been a constant struggle, but I’m not the commitment type.

She deserves someone better than me, we’d never last. I’d rather have a life-long friend than a fleeting good time.

I’d never want to lose what we have. Candice is the only one who keeps me sane in this messed-up world I exist in.

I honestly don’t know how I’m going to survive the next few years at uni without her.

“Jesus Christ, Sophia, give it a rest. It’s only hair. It’s not the end of the world!” I hear Candice yell after I knock on her front door. It sounds like she’s having a similar day to me. Who invented parents anyway?

“Whoa,” I blurt the second she appears in the doorway.

My reaction has her shoulders slumping. “Great. Not you too.”

“Hey. I like it,” I say as my eyes move down the length of her long, very pink hair.

“You do?”

“It’s very Candylicious. Very … you .” I smile when I see her face light up. I love seeing that look on her, it never gets old. Especially when I’m the guy who put it there.

“Come in, you dork,” she says with a light-hearted laugh, reaching for my arm and dragging me over the threshold and into the foyer, “and stop calling me that.”

“What, Candylicious?” I chuckle when she playfully elbows me in the ribs.

I’m the only one who’s ever gotten away with calling her by that name.

I watched on in amusement when one of the preppy guys at school groped her arse and called her that …

she swung around and grabbed hold of his crotch, hard.

I almost pissed myself laughing when his eyes rolled back into his head as he fell to his knees in agony.

She’s a top chick, just don’t mess with her.

“Jax. Thank God you’re here.” Sophia sighs as she rushes into the foyer.

“Look what she’s gone and done.” I see tears glistening in her eyes as she points to Candice’s hair.

Since Sophia used to be a top model, appearance is extremely high on her agenda.

She’s constantly having work done to maintain her beauty as she ages.

So much so, that she could easily pass as Candice’s older sister, instead of her mother.

“I like it,” I say, winking at Candice before looking back to Sophia.

“Great. Of course, you would,” she gripes, throwing her arms in the air in defeat. “I should’ve known you’d stick up for her. You always do.”

And that will never change. I’ll always have her back, just like I know she’ll always have mine.

“It’s just hair.”

“Pink hair!” Sophia shrieks before covering her face and sobbing. She’s a little on the dramatic side, but she has a good heart. She’s also a great mum. I wish my mother was more like her.

“I honestly don’t see what the big deal is.”

Candice shakes her head, giving me a look that has me closing my mouth and not speaking another word. When Sophia lets out a dramatic howl, I’m glad I stopped.

“Come,” Candice says, reaching for my hand and dragging me towards the staircase. “I’ll show you what the big deal is.”

“I’m making a hair appointment for you tomorrow, young lady,” Sophia says as Candice pulls me up the stairs.

“Fine. Make an appointment,” Candice replies, sarcasm lining her voice, “good luck getting me there.”

My best friend not only inherited her mother’s beauty, but she also inherited her pig-headedness. They have a fantastic mother-daughter relationship on the whole, but when they disagree—well, let’s just say, it’s explosive.

“Where are you taking me?”

Usually, we hang out in the games room, or by the pool. An image of Candice’s body in one of those tiny bikinis she wears enters my mind. Do you know how hard it is to be best friends with someone you carry a permanent boner for? Torture is the first word that springs to mind.

“To my room,” she replies.

“Hell no,” I grumble, tugging my hand out of hers. That’s dangerous territory. Me in Candice’s bedroom? Not happening.

“Get over yourself. I just want to show you something. You’re delusional if you think I’m going to attack you or anything.”

When she puts her finger in her mouth and fakes a gag, I lunge for her, throwing her over my shoulder.

“Jaxson Albright put me down!” she squeals.

“Not until you take that back.”

“Take what back?” She laughs as I take the stairs two at a time.

“That gag.”

“Never,” she says through her laughter.

“Take it back,” I demand, bringing my hand down on her arse. It only seems to make her laugh harder. When I get to the top of the landing, I slide her down my body before pinning her to the wall. “Take it back.”

“Make me.” She has a slight lift to her chin and that stubborn look in her eyes, and I already know I’ve lost.

Growling, I bring my face close to hers.

Big mistake. We always muck around with each other, but never this up close and personal.

Her intoxicating apple scent envelops me, and I can feel her sweet breath on my skin.

My heart starts to race. We’re both breathless and the moment my eyes lock with hers, something shifts between us.

The mood goes from playful to serious in a millisecond.

My face involuntarily moves towards her, and I hear her breath hitch just before our mouths connect.

Christ, her lips are just as soft and sweet as I’d imagined they’d be.

Neither of us takes it any further, it’s just a simple mesh of our mouths.

We remain unmoving for a moment, but when reality hits like a bolt of lightning, I push off the wall and take a step back. What in the hell am I doing?

“I’m sorry,” I whisper. “I don’t know what came over me.”