Page 4 of Broken

“Sure thing, Max. I’ll check in in a few days,” I waved goodbye to him.

I watched him leave the restaurant and get into his black Porsche. He drove away to an unknown destination almost immediately. I checked the watch on my arm and noted the time.

I was late.

Stuffing the scrap of paper into the pocket of my jeans, I flounced out without leaving a tip. I couldn’t afford one this time, but when I came back with that fifteen thousand dollars, I’d make up for it. I shot Rocko the owner a wave, and he shook his head.

I’d been coming into his dinner since I was a child. My mother had been a waitress here before her death. She’d had a stroke at the age of forty-five, leaving me with some pretty heavy responsibilities named Yara and Desmond. They were twins, teenagers with attitude and my best little broke friends.

I pulled the hoodie onto my head as I stepped out into the air. Schools had just started back up recently, and we’d been lucky that I had gotten them into a great school not too far from where the diner was. The pay by the day motel was nearby as well.

Leaves began to swirl up as I approached Saint Clara High School. The twins were leaning against the fence talking when they spotted me.

“Sis, finally,” I heard Des say.

“Hi guys, sorry, I was picking up a new job,” I said.

I watched Yara give an exaggerated sigh; she whipped her head around to make sure no one was listening and whispered, “You know Nova, we’re old enough to walk ourselves home now. The motel isn’t that far from here.”

I shrugged at my sassy pants sister; and pushed both her and my brother in front of me. I watched them walk along the broken cement sidewalk, their feet avoiding pile ups of fallen leaves. They talked animatedly about their day at school and I watched as the sun bounced around in their copper colored hair giving them both almost the appearance of halos.

I tried my best to provide a good life for them. This new job was finally going to put us where we needed to be, especially if social services came knocking this school year. The last three times they had come I’d always had a vacated house to use just in case, but they were slim pickings recently. So, for now, we’d been holed up in the motel that smelled old and moldy. It was not a perfect home, but it was the only one we could afford at the moment.

Des and Yara held open the side door to the motel that we used instead of the front entrance. We went down about three doors and I fished for the key card. We entered and the familiar scent of stale pizza and a moldy wetness hit our nostrils. I flicked on the lights and surveyed the room; twin beds, a tv, and fridge were in the room.

“Sis, we gotta find a new place soon,” Des said immediately.

“I know D, I know,” I smiled at him. “You guys put your uniforms up. Let’s start Febreze-ing this joint and then get started on homework.”

I locked the door, and the twins gave a nod. Des went into the bathroom and Yara began to undress in a corner. Again, it wasn’t perfect, but we made it work some kind of way.

“My teacher said that the school is giving a dance in the next few weeks for parents,” Yara said.

“Really?” I asked.

Des came out of the bathroom just in time to add his two cents. “Yup, apparently so parents can get to know each other and get to know the teachers better.”

“Ugh, and I have to make an appearance?” A frown began to crease my face.

The twins gave each other looks. Little bratty assholes that held my hearts. They knew I liked to slide under the radar, but I’d do anything for them.

“Yes,” they said in unison.

“This school is already doing the most,” I murmured.

For a few moments we cleaned up our living space in silence. Then as the twins sat down to do their work, heads bowed in concentration, I sat down on our laptop. It was one of the small luxuries that we had, and I began to research the address that Max had given to me.

Typing in the address on Google, my blood almost seemed to buzz. I had been built for thieving, and it called out to the deepest parts of my mind. A house appeared on screen and I realized that whoever lived in this house…no, correction, mansion. Whoever lived in the mansion was loaded. I’d ripped off mansions before but this one seemed to be different.

I checked the realty page for specs, memorizing them. I counted the amount of bedrooms; there were twenty in all, with eight bathrooms. There was a library and an office, and the floors were either marble or wood. All of these nuances and distinctions mattered because if I needed to run…well you wouldn’t want to bust your ass trying to get into this place and die on the way out because the ground was too slippery.

“Holy shit,” Des said over my shoulder causing me to jump.

“Yeah, it’s really nice,” I said and knew he was imagining living in a place like that.

“New job?”

I held nothing back from the twins. They knew what I did for a living, kind of. Yara ever with the dramatics tried to steer clear of knowing too much. Whereas Des wanted to know too much. I had always promised them that they wouldn’t know the criminal life because I would never let it touch them, and I meant it.