Thief of Hearts (15 page)

“Leave,” Stu grunted, his entire body coiled tight. I could tell his patience was already wearing thin and watched as he repeatedly clenched and unclenched his fists, ready for a fight. The fact that he was defending me when he didn’t have to gave me an odd swishy feeling in my stomach.

“I’ll leave when I’m good and ready.”

“You’d better be good and ready in three seconds because I’m about to give you some help.”

Shark Eyes grunted as he looked Stu up and down, deciding whether or not he was worth it. He must’ve decided he wasn’t because a second later he gave another grunt, shot me a final threatening look, and stalked away from my flat.

As soon as he was gone I let out a relieved sigh, slumping back against my front door as I willed my pulse to slow down. I’d never endured a confrontation like that before. Up until now, I’d only received threatening letters and phone calls from my bank. This was new territory, and I was completely unequipped to deal with it. I’d been brought up relatively privileged, had spent the majority of my life quite sheltered, really.

Perhaps that’s why Stu took facing off with Shark Eyes in his stride. He hadn’t been sheltered, had experienced real hardship. Threatening confrontations were probably a daily occurrence for him in prison.

He stood silently next to me and I could feel his eyes looking me over, searching for cracks. He probably thought I was going to break down any moment, and believe me, I wanted to. I wasn’t normally so weak, but everything had just been piling up lately and I’d been internalising so much of it. It was only natural that the floodgates would burst open sooner or later.

But no, not here, not in front of Stu Cross. I could wait for privacy, until there were no judging eyes present, just my four bedroom walls and my pillow to comfort me and soak up my tears.

“You all right?” Stu asked, laying a hand on my shoulder, his voice soft.

And just like that, as though all I needed was a sympathetic word and a light touch, I broke. In spite of my determination to put up a strong front, all my pent-up sadness, feelings of inadequacy, fear of losing everything, utter indignation erupted, and I was helpless to do anything about it. Tears rolled down my cheeks as I turned away from him and dug in my handbag for some Kleenex. All I found was a crumpled napkin. I used it dab my eyes in an effort to hide my tears. Unfortunately, there was nothing I could do to cover up the sniffling.

“Ah fuck, come here.” He wrapped his arm around my waist again and pulled me into his warm chest. “Hush, I’ve got you,” he whispered as he turned me and I buried my face in his neck, unprepared to let him see my blotchy cheeks.

Stu’s hand drifted comfortingly down my back, coming to rest at the base of my spine. There he started to rub soothing circles as his other arm held me to him. It felt so good to be held by another human being that I simply sank into the embrace, helpless to resist the comfort.

“You’re okay, I’ve got you,” Stu murmured, his lips in my hair as he pressed a light kiss to the top of my head. Tingles radiated down my spine from his voice alone. I could lose myself in these arms.
How was I still this attracted to him when I knew it wasn’t reciprocated?

He smelled so good. I couldn’t help inhaling his masculine scent. There was something incredibly comforting about it, something that made me feel protected. I paused, hoping he hadn’t noticed me practically nuzzling his neck. But he just continued rubbing circles, letting me cry it out. After another minute or two I drew away, suddenly feeling self-conscious. Earlier today we’d fought. I’d been horrible to him and here he was defending me against threatening money collectors and holding me as I cried. I didn’t feel like I deserved it, even if he had used me before.

His hazel eyes looked me over as I dabbed the remaining wetness from my face. I couldn’t look at him, and instead stared at the ground as I asked quietly, “Why did you come?”

“I didn’t like how we left things.”

I glanced up, studying his expression and seeing nothing but remorse.

Stu raked a hand through his hair. “Andrea, listen I—”

“Do you want to come in for tea?” I cut him off, feeling too raw to continue standing on my doorstep with a red post-crying face.

“Yes,” he answered, his voice still soft. Maybe he thought that if he spoke normally I’d break down again. Now that my crying jag was over I felt
more
embarrassment creeping in.

Busying myself with picking my keys up off the ground and opening the door, I led him inside the flat. The distinct tones of Rachmaninov echoed from Alfie’s room so I knew he was busy at work. He always listened to classical music when he painted. Seemingly hearing us come in, the music shut off and my cousin emerged from his room.

There was dark blue paint in his hair and his fingers were stained black. I took this to mean he’d started working on the piece for Stu. He also had his laptop tucked under his arm, which made me think he’d come out to show me something. Really though, I was glad of his presence, because I felt like I needed a buffer. My emotions were too close to the surface.

Alfie looked between the two of us, his concerned gaze falling on me the longest. “Andie, is everything okay? You look upset.”

Before I could answer Stu spoke. “There was a piece-of-shit money collector outside coming the hard man with her. I ran him off.”

“Oh,” Alfie exclaimed, his hand going to his heart. “Was it the same man from yesterday? I’ll admit I was too scared to answer the door when I saw him.”

“Yes,” I said, nodding, “it was the same guy.”

“Well, in that case I suppose thanks are in order,” he said to Stu somewhat warily. “I’m not sure what Andie would’ve done if you hadn’t been there.”

I huffed at this, not liking the insinuation that I was a weak, defenceless little woman, even if admittedly, I had been a tad weak and defenceless.

“No worries,” said Stu, noticing my tense posture. Sure, I’d just been crying my eyes out, but it wasn’t like I wouldn’t have survived the encounter if it weren’t for him. I just wouldn’t have had a soothing shoulder to cry on afterwards. No big deal.

A moment of quiet ensued as I went to put the kettle on and Alfie perched himself on a stool by the counter. Stu went and took a seat by the window, his face etched with thought.
What on earth was going through his mind now?

“Pssst,” Alfie whispered over the noise of the kettle, gesturing for me to come closer.

“What?” I mouthed.

“Don’t you think we should help him? Not to be mean, but he doesn’t strike me as the sharpest tool in the shed. This Duke character could be setting him up. We should let him tell us his plan for the robbery, like I offered last night.”

I frowned just as Stu spoke up. “I can hear you, you know.”

Alfie wore a sheepish expression. “Sorry.”

“And just so you know, I’m not as dumb as I look.”

“You’re right, I apologise,” said Alfie, appearing embarrassed. “I’m afraid I fall victim to stereotyping from time to time. And you’re right, just because your muscles are big doesn’t mean your brain is small.”

Stu tilted his head from side to side, like his neck was tense. “People always make the same assumption about me. I’m used to it.” The way he spoke made my chest ache, and I wished I could go over and give him a hug. Had people always judged him on the way he looked?

“Yes well, most people are small-minded,” I said. “They don’t realise that there are many different kinds of intelligence.”

“And that right there is why you’re such a wonderful teacher,” said Alfie. “You can find a talent in everyone.”

Stu’s gaze heated as he watched me and I shifted from foot to foot. His expression gave me butterflies. I busied myself making us all tea as Alfie turned to ponder Stu.

“So, would you like my advice?”

“Your advice?”

“About the robbery. If I’m honest, I’m quite eager to poke some holes in this plan of the Duke’s. In my opinion the best schemes are plotted when several heads knock together.”

Stu rubbed his thumb across his lips, an action I founded strangely mesmerising. So much so that I almost spilled the milk I held, catching myself just in time.

“You sure you won’t start going hysterical on me again? Last night was dramatic enough,” said Stu, eyes wary.

“I promise. I might not like it but I’ve made my peace with the situation. For better or worse, we’re all in this for the long haul.”

Stu eyed him a moment as I set Alfie’s cup down in front of him then carried the other over to Stu. Our fingers brushed when he took it, reminding me of how good it felt when he’d rubbed my back so soothingly. And yes, how good it felt when he’d kissed me at my parents’ house.

“The Duke’s getting out in a month. That’s why he needs the money. He plans on hotfooting it over to the Seychelles where he can spend his days in the sun and his nights bedding all the East African beauties he can get his hands on.”

“How delightfully extravagant and predictable,” Alfie sighed and I gave a light chuckle.

Stu’s expression warmed at my laughter and I glanced away shyly, focusing on my teacup. “Well anyway, the bloke we’re ripping off is actually an old acquaintance of the Duke’s, goes by the name of Renfield.”

“As in Dracula’s thrall?” Alfie scoffed. “That’s an unfortunate surname to get stuck with.”

“Renfield’s a big deal, some kind of hedge fund millionaire and apparently a crazy art fanatic. He’s had the painting in his private collection since the early nineties, when he supposedly purchased it from the thieves who pulled off the museum heist. The Duke caught wind that Renfield was relocating from London to the United Arab Emirates. Trouble is, he’s going to have a hell of a time moving his collection of stolen art and antiquities across the pond. That’s where I come in.”

I frowned past a sip of tea, my stomach churning as I listened to Stu speak. The whole thing just felt too real now Alfie and I were being held privy to the actual plan.

“The Duke used his contacts to have me recommended to Renfield as a specialist trafficker. I’ve got to pose as some bloke whose job it is to transport contraband across country borders. I’ve been in contact with him for a while now, but we won’t meet in person until next week. That’s where I’m going to have to convince him I’m the real deal.”

“And if you don’t?” I put in, scared for him. I had no idea what kind of nutcase this Renfield might be.

“Then the whole thing is screwed, I imagine,” said Alfie before Stu could reply.

“Pretty much,” Stu agreed.

“So, if my skills of deduction prove correct, what you plan to do is transport the Duke’s items while replacing the real painting with my fake, yes?”

“Yep.”

“But what if you get caught?” I asked anxiously. “Even after you swap the paintings you still have a bunch of stolen art to transport all the way to Dubai or wherever he’s moving to. That’s a big risk to take.”

Stu scratched his jaw, his expression torn. “The Duke says he’s organised for me to travel on a cargo ship that goes fucking everywhere before ending up in Malaysia, and from there I take another ship to Dubai, where Renfield’s men will collect the items.”

“Sounds a little too simple, if you ask me,” said Alfie, his expression thoughtful. “I’ve a feeling you’ll have a much bigger problem getting into the UAE than this Duke is letting on. And of course he won’t care because he’ll have his painting by then. I’m sure I’m right when I say you don’t want to go back to prison, especially not some Middle Eastern prison where quite frankly you’ll stand out like a sore thumb, not to mention you don’t even speak the language.”

Stu thought on this a moment before speaking. “So what you’re saying is I need to be one step ahead, right? Maybe I could pay somebody to transport the goods for me. Somebody who actually comes from the Middle East and understands what they’re dealing with.”

“Precisely,” said Alfie.

“Yeah, but how can I trust they’ll follow through?”

“Simple. You don’t pay them until the job is done. I might be an artist but I’m the son of a businessman. Growing up for me was a series of deals that my father was constantly in the middle of.”

Alfie’s voice grew detached for a moment. He never really spoke of his childhood because those years had been privileged but lonely. Also, even before they lost all their money, his dad had cheated on his mum countless times, turning her into a paranoid wreck. I was surprised Alfie lasted so long under her roof, since she wasn’t the easiest woman in the world to live with.

“Think I’m gonna have to call in some favours, find someone who’s desperate for the money and willing to take the risk,” said Stu, his expression thoughtful.

“That’s probably the wisest action to take. I certainly wouldn’t put myself through the risk of completing the journey.”

My heart clenched at Stu’s predicament, and though I was still trying to convince myself I was angry with him, I worried. I worried what would happen if he couldn’t find someone to take on the job, because in my gut I couldn’t stand the idea of him going it alone.

“Oh, before I forget,” said Alfie, opening up his laptop. “I made an interesting discovery today while studying the images the Duke provided.”