Page 1 of Thief (Breeding 3)

Chapter 1


“Oh, fuck, just like that. Take it all the way to the back of your throat.”

The slurping noise from the woman on her knees a few feet from me makes me clench my jaw. The smell of cigars and sex coats the air, making me wish I didn’t have to breathe in the stench.

“Oh, right there. Swallow it all,” Nick mumbles as the slurping noise grows louder, and he grunts his release.

Fucking hell, this is why I like to work alone. Being in the back of a seedy strip club after hours is making my skin crawl.

One last job. I keep reminding myself why I’m here. I’m going to have to scrub my body with sandpaper when I leave this place. I’ll need a scalding hot shower and might even burn my clothes. God knows what’s happened in the very seat I’m sitting in.

“You want her next? Maybe she can pull that stick out of your ass.” Nick laughs at his own joke as the woman pulls herself to her feet. She stumbles as she gets up, almost falling over in her heels. Who knows what she’s on. From how rail thin she is and the glazed look in her sunken eyes, I’m guessing something heavy.

She steps towards me like my silence is an invitation, but I stop her in her tracks with a stare. I’d rather cut my fucking dick off than let her anywhere near it.

“Come on, man. Loosen the fuck up,” Nick says as he adjusts himself and grabs a beer from the table next to him.

“I’m leaving in five.” I clip my words, making them hard. This meeting was supposed to start twenty minutes ago, and I have shit to do. Okay, maybe not shit to do, but I have somewhere else I want to be.

Stuck in the back of a strip club, waiting for the boss to show up, is not my idea of a good time. I took this job for one reason: a diversion. I need these guys, and I’m on a time crunch. Time that is ticking away and being wasted at this very moment. I normally like to work alone, but this job is paying me enough that I can finally retire. I’ll be set for life if everything goes according to plan. If being the operative word.

These guys think we’re just robbing a bank, which we are, but I’m after something else. A bank job isn’t enough to have me hanging up my gun, but my real reason for breaking into the bank will give me the good life. There’s a very important deposit box inside that vault, and that’s my moneymaker. That box is the real reason I’ve hooked up with these clowns, and they’re the only way I can get into it with the time I’ve got left.

No one needs to know I was ever in there, which is why I need a robbery to go down. I need chaos to help create a diversion while I get what I’m really after.

“You’ll stay until Heavy gets here,” Nick says, like he can make me stay.

“You forget who asked who to do this job.” I start to rise from my chair, like I don’t give a shit about the job one way or another. They asked me for my help, but only because I’d planted seeds for them to do so. I don’t want them to know how much this job means to me. It’s better if they think I don’t give a shit.

Just then, Heavy walks in.

“Out!” he snaps, and the girls who have been roaming around scurry from the room.

Lazily, I drop back down into my chair and wait. Heavy pours himself a drink before making his way over to where Nick and I are sitting, a few more of his crew coming in behind him and joining us.

Heavy is anything but heavy. He’s barely five foot, balding, and wears the most God-awful suits I’ve ever seen. The only reason he’s got himself this little makeshift gang is because it used to be his father’s until he passed a few years back.

What was once a decent crew turned into a bunch of lazy fucks who clearly aren’t making ends meet. Seeing as they all latched on to the stupid idea of robbing a Federal bank, these idiots are dumber than I thought.

Or maybe Heavy’s as crazy as I’ve heard he is, and he just doesn’t care. Crazy is dangerous and makes for sloppy work. Crazy is hard to understand and not easy to predict. I feel like I’ve bitten off more than I can chew with this crew, and I’m starting to have second thoughts. My doubts are bubbling to the surface, and I think maybe it’s time to call this whole operation off.

Right until Heavy drops a stack of pictures and papers on to the table, making my heart jump into my throat.

I sit perfectly still, trying to appear completely unfazed by what I see. The real reason I want to call off the job. I don’t make a single move to indicate I know who the woman is. Her pictures are scattered across the table for all these men to leer at, and I’m cool and calm on the outside. On the inside, though, I’m losing my shit.

I’ve always been known for my control, and for the first time in my life, I feel a crack split in my facade. The mask I so carefully wear starts to slip, and I have to rein myself in.

“Tessa Morgan.” Heavy says her name like he bought himself a winning lottery ticket. I should have seen this coming, and maybe I did but I ignored it. I don’t even like her name on his lips. She’s too sweet and pure for a man like Heavy to even say her name.

When I knew what bank was my target weeks ago, I started digging up every piece of information I could get my hands on. Tessa stood out to me right away but probably not for the same reasons she stood out to Heavy.

I hate her name on his lips; it makes my stomach clench. I’ve been watching her for weeks already, and I told myself it’s because she’s a part of the job. That’s a lie, because I haven’t watched anyone else at the bank. Just her. I want to watch her now.