Chapter 3

Chapter Three

Móirín

A m I really doing this? I’m doing this. I am going to steal something. Yes, you are going to steal back your family heirloom. I have been having this talk with myself for half the day and the answer never comes without a fight.

Currently I am sitting in my car hidden by a tree, watching for the moment the delivery truck pulls up. My hands are sweating, and my legs won’t stop shaking. For the hundredth time I pick up my phone and check the time only to see a minute has passed. “Dang it. I should have eaten.” I whisper to myself. I pull up my phone looking to see what restaurants are around but before I can, the truck comes around the corner. “Show time.”

Slowly I get out of the car staying within the shadows and pull up my hood. The driver unloads the crates one by one putting them on a dollie before finally rolling them up the backdoor. Quietly I follow behind him running up as the door is closing and slip inside. When he turns the corner with the packages, I go in the opposite direction, slip into the copy room and pull the fire alarm. Making sure the coast is clear I sprint into the cellar, barely being undetected by the chaos and wait for the coast to be clear .

When I no longer hear footsteps or concerned voices, I open the door making sure to stay to the farthest wall which is not facing the camera and then I am finally standing in front of the reason I am doing this. “Wow.” I whisper, lifting the glass case. “More beautiful in person.” Carefully I pick it up not worried about the alarm underneath because when the fire alarm went off, according to my friend Alexa, it was automatically disabled.

The weight of the object in my hand is heavier on my heart than it is tangibly. Right now, I am holding something near and dear to my family and knowing I am going to be able to give it to my grandfather to cherish in his final days, is like winning a championship. Tucking it close to my chest, I hurriedly make my way to the maintenance door and put my ear to it. I take a deep breath so I can't hear my own breaths and listen for noise. When it seems quiet, I exhale and open the door. “Thank God.” I say to myself. I step out of the door and watch it close before turning to walk to my car. “Umph.” I run into something solid and familiar.

“Well, finally. My little Shamrock Thief. I’ve been waiting for you.” The object of many orgasms says before his hand comes over my mouth and he begin pulling me through the alley.

Legs flailing and body twisting I try to get away, aware at this moment he has the upper hand, literally and figuratively. I hear the sirens getting closer and, in my mind, this is it, I’m toast. Surely, he is going to turn me over to the cops and then my criminal career is going to end before it really began. Maybe I can reason with him. I mean I am sure I can convince him to let me go, right?

In vain I am trying to fight him, get away, something but then a car door opens, and I am being thrown into the passenger seat, my hands cuffed to the door and the door shut. “Help!” I attempt to scream hoping someone can hear me. My little theft will most certainly be overlooked in comparison to his kidnapping. “He’s kidnapping me.'' I scream again when his side of the door opens.

“Oh kitten, scream all you like. The sirens drown out any other sound.” I stop and realize he is right. Damn it .

“So, if you’re not taking me to the police where are we going?'' I ask him now concerned for another reason. Is he like, a hot psycho guy? Oh God, is he a Ted Bundy copycat? “Don’t kill me, I'm a virgin. I don’t want to die a virgin.” Oh brother. Did I just blurt that out? I have to have better timing.

“You better be a fucking virgin.” he growls, gripping the steering wheel tighter. Why does he look so upset? I mean what’s it to him if I’m a virgin or not? Furthermore, why is that turning me on?

“Listen here buddy, I don’t know who you think you are but, what I may have or have not done with my body is my business.” Now I told him. Would have been more effective if I could have put my finger in his face or something but nope, I can’t move my hands.

“That’s where you’re wrong my little thief, everything about you is my business. Especially what you do with your body.” His smile should be scary, but it’s heated and intense. I shiver inadvertently like his voice and words have a direct connection to my pussy. My mouth opens and closes but no words come out.

Instead of trying to fight I sit and keep my mouth shut, sort of scared to annoy him but weirdly enough not afraid of him. I know I sound psycho, but I feel… safe with him like he won’t hurt me. The drive lasts another two hours in silence until everything turns familiar and it dawns on me where we are going. “Um, why are we going to my grandfather's cabin?” Alright now I am starting to freak out. How does he know about this place? Is this some sort of Irish mob thing?

“We need a place to be alone and connect.” he says with a shrug like it’s a given or something.

“Connect? Connect what? What is going on? Who are you really?” He looks at me amused before pulling into the driveways and putting the car in park. He gets out and comes around to the passenger side. I should use this as my chance to get away, but then what? I did steal something valuable from his exhibit.

“Are you going to behave?” He asks, unlocking the cuffs and rubbing my wrists. The gesture is sweet and confusing considering, but when he lifts my hand to his mouth and kisses it, my knees almost buckle. “Come on love, let’s get inside.” With his hand on my back, he walks me into my own family's property like I am the guest.

I realize as the door opens that I haven’t been here since I was a teenager, and I am suddenly hit with all types of nostalgic memories. While he closes the door I look around and take in the pictures of my grandparents and parents and I over the years. The one thing that strikes me is that everything looks fresh, not dusty like you would expect after being abandoned for years. Something is not making sense. With my hands on my hips, I turn to face his annoyance fueling me. “What the hell is going on?” I may not be in a position to demand anything but damn it, I feel like I am missing something, and I am going to find out what.