Thief (23 page)

Once we were a good distance away, and there were no sirens, I sat back, glancing over at Raven. He flexed his right hand over and over on the steering wheel.

“Is your hand okay?” I asked, trying to sound softer. He did save me, after all.

His brows furrowed, he drove with his left hand, holding out his right. He flexed it in front of me. There were a few dry cuts and some redness but nothing looked out of place. “Nothing broken,” he said in a low tone.

I stretched out, taking it between my palms. His arm muscles tensed. I wasn’t sure if I was hurting him or if he thought I was going to hit him.

I pressed my lips to the back of his hand quietly and kissed at his knuckle. “Thank you,” I said, hoping I sounded as sincere as I felt.

His brow lifted. “For what?”

“For helping me with Wil. And for beating up that jerk.” I meant it. Despite me having given him such a rough time, he went out of his way to help me do what I needed to do. I wanted him to know I appreciated it. Not a lot of people would do that, not for someone like me.

He took his hand back, and for a moment I thought he was going to tell me off.

His fingers cupped my face, the thumb sliding across my cheekbone. Slowly. The edge of his thumbnail traced against my skin, causing a gentle shiver along my spine. He gazed at me, longer than he should have kept his eyes off the road. He didn’t say anything, just stared.

I swallowed, uncomfortable. I tried to come up with something to break the tension. “Are we going back to the apartment?” I asked.

“Did you still want to talk to Axel?” he asked. He took his hand back and looked at the road again. “I should relieve him, anyway.”

“Where is he?”

“At the gun range.”

“Did he take all those guns and bullets you prepped yesterday?”

“Yeah. October is good weather for training. Not overly hot.”

Part of me wanted to start hunting for a job and hurry along. I still didn’t feel like I deserved time off. What else could I do? “Will you let me shoot a gun?”

He smirked, and the car sped up as his foot dropped on the gas pedal. “If there’s any bullets left.”

––––––––

O
n our way to the range, I dug through the two book bags, thankful that Raven managed to grab the two that were mine. I guessed Jack wasn’t there or was asleep. Leaving the note would have to do for now until I could think up some other way of letting Wil know I was okay.

I was kind of embarrassed about Raven seeing the place. Would he notice I had to sleep in the same bed as Wil? Since he didn’t say anything, I tried not to let it bother me.

I dug out a pair of jean cutoff shorts, a better fitting T-shirt, and a pair of clean underwear and a bra. I’d been wearing the ones I had on a little too long. I shoved my hands through the sleeves of Marc’s shirt and started undoing my bra underneath.

Raven slid glances at me. “What are you doing?”

“Changing. Keep your eyes on the road.”

He turned his head, staring straight ahead. One of the cool things about being a girl is you learn early on how to change your clothes completely in public without revealing anything. I managed to weave the bra out from a sleeve without removing the shirt, and put another one on. I slipped off the old shorts, and the underwear, slipped new underwear and shorts on without revealing much other than my thighs. After that, I felt pretty covered so I just removed the shirt. I put the other one on and smoothed the T-shirt over my body. It had a slight V-neck to it and fit better around the waist. Boy shirts were cool, but mostly for lounging around the house.

Raven grumbled. “Why are you doing that here? There’s people watching.”

“There’s only you watching and no one else cares. And you should be paying attention to the road.”

“This is why that guy back there was hanging on your door. You can’t even sit in a truck without causing problems.”

“You can drop me off back at the hotel. Seriously. Any time you want to get rid of me. Or drop me off here. I can walk.”

He glared out the windshield. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

Raven paid for four Big Macs, two large fries, a Coke and a milkshake, of which I ate one and a half Big Macs, one of the large fries and some stolen from his box until he smacked my forearm to ward me off, and the milkshake. He ate the other half of the second hamburger before I got to it.

By the time my brain pulled itself together after eating, we were on a country road. Even for October, the envelope of greenery surrounded us, making it feel more like an alleyway inside a forest. It was a quiet back road, only one car passed us maybe every couple of miles.

“Where are we?” I asked.

“We’re getting close.”

Around the next turn, a white wood sign came into view. It had faded black lettering: SCPO Shooting Range, Closed to the Public Today.

“They’re closed,” I said.

“It’s closed because there’s training.”

“What’s the letters?” I asked, but after a moment when he didn’t answer, I started guessing. “Is that South Carolina Police Officer or something like that? Is that what the initials stand for?”

“Yeah.”

“So you do work for the police?”

“No.”

“How are you using their gun range when it’s closed to the public?”

“We’re friendly with the police, but they don’t know who we are.” He turned onto the gravel road. “I’d appreciate it if you don’t tell them.”

“Would you get in trouble?”

“I’d get in trouble and I’d take you down with me.”

Oh boy.

Despite being with Raven, it made me nervous to be crossing into any territory that was considered police property. The gravel road continued for about a mile and then shifted to the left another quarter mile. He drove up to an open gate. Hanging wide open. Anyone could walk in if they’d found the road. I didn’t see any security monitoring the entrance. I guessed they didn’t figure they needed to really keep anyone out. No one would be stupid enough to invade a police shooting range.

The property was surrounded by barbed wire fence. The whole area might have been two acres, surrounded by trees. I supposed that’s how they kept it safe, a great distance of trees made sure they wouldn’t accidentally shoot anyone.

There was a blue building with a white roof planted in the middle of the property. Behind it was a brick wall, about head height. There was a gray shed nearby, and from the gravel parking lot, there was a row of short distance ranges, about twelve in a row, near the blue building. A long hill of dirt ran down the far side of the range, and this was covered in carpets against the slopes. An additional bullet barrier?

I jumped out the moment Raven parked. I was about to comment that it was quiet when a smattering of gunfire filled the air. I snapped my head around, spotting a row of guys each taking up a space at the short distance rage. I could only see their backs, but they had their arms up, aiming different pistols at targets hanging in front of the carpets on the back of the range. Targets were held up on wood poles. Each of the guys shooting wore blue ear protection. They focused, shooting the target, the bullets zinging through the paper and into the carpet pieces.

Raven marched forward, motioning for me to follow. We swayed to the left, toward the blue building. There was a covered concrete porch in the front, with picnic tables set up underneath the awning. The white doors to the building were closed, but there was a wide window to the right and there was a light on somewhere inside. From my angle, I couldn’t see anything inside the window, just part of the corner from an inside wall. I didn’t know if anyone was inside.

Raven sat down at one of the picnic benches that was closest to the boys, leaning back on his elbows so his chest puffed out. I dropped down next to him. We were still a short distance from the gun shooting, but I tensed at the sound of gunfire and wondered if I should worry about my ears.

Now that we were closer to the boys, I could see they were younger, maybe around fourteen.

I leaned into Raven’s shoulder with my own. “Are these ... uh ... the people I’m not supposed to talk about? Are they your...”

“Yeah,” he said. He leaned back into me, but stretched his arm around until he was resting on the table behind me and pointed with his other hand. “Today, they’re getting a feel of different models of guns, from twenty two calibers up to forty five. After this, they’ll have an idea of the difference. How they look. How they feel. The sound differences.”

“They’re young,” I said. “Is this necessary?”

“Have to know what the bad guys know,” he said. “Hopefully more.”

We watched for a while. It took a minute for me to spot Axel, who was on the far side, standing and studying the boys vigilantly. He wore black jeans and boots and an olive short sleeve button up shirt. Part of his collarbone peeked out from the open buttons of the collar. A lock of his black hair framed the side of his face and teased his chin. He was wearing those dark-framed glasses again. With his high cheekbones, and intense stare, he was the quiet strength amid what otherwise felt like chaos to me.

He seemed to sense me staring and turned his attention to me. When magazines were emptied this round, he shouted. “Okay, boys, Raven’s going to take over.”

“That’s my clue,” Raven said. He stood up and stretched.

“You mean cue? That’s your cue?”

“Clue, cue, cute. It’s a word.” He dropped a hand on my head, massaging my scalp. “Stay here, little thief.”

I swatted his hand away. I was tempted to go hide somewhere when his back was turned just to tick him off.

Axel met him halfway, they exchanged a few words and then continued on, trading places. Raven took up position where Axel had been. He barked some order I didn’t understand, and the kids started to open up their guns, checking to make sure they were empty, before passing off the gun, open, to the next person. There was a stack of ammunition in front of each of them. They selected the right one for that particular gun, reloaded, and waited. Raven found another ear protection headset and put it on.

I flinched again when they started firing. Axel directed himself at me. For a moment, my insides quaked as I realized he intended to talk to me. My heart raced and I wasn’t sure why. Was I worried he’d pry into my past some more? Or was it his sense of calm composure when I felt anything but calm? Wasn’t I supposed to yell at him? Isn’t that what Raven brought me here for?

He turned his back on the teenagers and the gunfire as if to show me he was only paying attention to me right now. “So you’re still here after all.”

“You mean I surrendered to my kidnapping? Yeah, I guess I was a little tired this morning.”

His eyes sparked with something that was almost humor but it disappeared quickly. He curled his fingers at me. “Come on,” he said. “Raven said you wanted to shoot.”

I jumped up, glancing back once at Raven but he was steady, paying attention to the boys.

Axel threaded an arm around my shoulders, drawing me away. “You probably shouldn’t watch,” he said.

“Why not?”

“You’ll make them nervous,” he said.

“Huh?”

“Distracted. They’re not ready for that yet.” He aimed me toward a red Jeep Cherokee parked in the lot.

“How many people are in the Academy?” I asked. “I mean, how many spies do you have running around Charleston, poking their noses in other people’s business?”

“Not as many as you think,” he said. He released me and opened the back of the Cherokee. He pulled out a couple of long gun cases. “This is actually a training ground for our group.”

“You mean this place? The gun range?”

“I mean Charleston in general.” He passed off one of the cases to me so he could close the Jeep up.

“What do you mean by training ground?”

He started toward the large cinder block wall behind the blue building. He did it without directing me at all that I should join him, but I followed anyway. “Not all of us are from here,” he said. “We recruit from all over the globe. Some grew up here, just because it is easier to recruit local to home base, but often enough, if you become an Academy recruit from somewhere else, you’ll get transplanted to Charleston for training.”

All of Charleston? My home? They used it like some crazy military base for an underground police force? I’d been here all my life and I’d never heard of such a thing. “Why here?”

“Because it isn’t New York City, and it isn’t Tiny-Town in the middle of nowhere. Charleston is relatively safe, but with its own problems. It gives us a home to work from. It’s still big enough that we don’t stand out, and we can blend in with everyone else and be that forgettable face in the crowd. We also have situations we can handle, that we can ask trainees to handle.”

“You train them in a smaller town to be able to handle themselves outside of it later? Like what Marc was doing at the mall?”

“Unusual cases are one of the things we do.”

“So you’re in training?”

There was a flicker of amusement in his tone. “No. I graduated a while ago.”

“But you stayed here in training camp?”

“We’re here right now,” he said. “Our team liked Charleston, so we chose to make this home, but we could have moved anywhere. We help with training recruits, and help out in the local area where needed, usually on bigger assignments some of the kids can’t handle. Sometimes we get sent out, and travel. It depends on what we feel like doing, but the guys like getting out of the country every now and again.”

“How far does this go?” I asked. The idea that the Academy had a global stretch was intriguing. “I mean, okay say you go through training. You do your time and then you want to wander off on your own to Europe...”

He shook his head. “No, not that.”

“No Europe?”

“I mean no going off on your own,” he said. He turned the corner around the block wall. The other side contained two long rifle ranges. The ranges were really just marked off by the edge of the wall, and lines painted in white, like lines on a baseball field. A lopsided table was parked in the grass in front of the ranges. At the far end was another mound of dirt covered in carpets. There were wood poles set up for holding up targets. “You can’t take assignments alone,” he said. “You have to have a team.”