Brazen Mistakes (Brazen Boys #3)

56. Jansen

Chapter 56

Jansen

A s usual, waiting in the van might as well be going to the dentist. Just as much fun, and I’m just as much of a mess afterwards.

The first few hours I annoy RJ, then the next few I do some meditations, but it’s not centering like it should be. My mind’s a fuzzy mess no matter what I do right now.

Then, after a walk for carryout, eating said carryout, and playing wall ball against the back doors of the van by myself until RJ made me practice braiding with some spare cords, finally, RJ sits back in his chair and opens the case for the earpieces.

Thank heaven and all its antsy little angels.

“It’s time?”

“The owner left about an hour ago, and the last of his staff just headed out as well. I don’t know exactly how long you’ll have, but he was dressed for a party, so it should be at least another hour, probably two. Plenty of time to get in, pick out the best pieces, and leave.”

“Do I get to pick the pieces?”

“Nope. Trips and Walker will do final approvals. You’ll have to hold them up to the camera one by one and I’ll link them in.”

“What if I find something I want to give her?”

RJ just shakes his head. “Stick to the plan. We don’t want to fuck this up. Otherwise, we’ll be running with a full crew for all our retrievals, even the small ones. And I don’t think you’d prefer Trips stomping around in here right now.”

“I wouldn’t mind Clara.”

“Neither would I. But she’s still too quick to jump in when she doesn’t have the skills yet.”

I go through my pre-climb stretches. “She’s picking them up quickly.”

“True. But she’s got enough going on with Trips’ party tomorrow, and with her dumbass ex. So no invites for now.”

“You should see her drive, man. Hottest thing I’ve seen in, well, she’s always hot. But it’s extra hot.”

He motions me over, placing the earpiece in for me. “I can imagine. She has skills, then?”

“Her dad must have been legit back in the day to have taught her what she knows just for funsies.”

He hands me a pin with a Christmas tree on it. “Camera, so we can see the jewels.”

“Neat.” I pop it into my shirt, then shake my head, making sure the earpiece is good and stuck.

“Testing, you hear me? ”

His voice is crystal, so I nod, jumping around so I’m warm enough to climb in the zero-degree weather. My poor fingers are going to fall off if I struggle to get the window open. But because RJ is nothing but professional, he discovered that one of the staff likes to sneak cigarettes during the day and uses the window of a little loved bedroom to do so. And the guy doesn’t lock it when he leaves for the day.

Lucky me.

I shoot RJ a salute, then bound out of the van, slamming the door, and sprinting around the block so I can come from the back, keeping RJ from being implicated.

The van has a decal for a Christmas light installation company, Santa’s Elves Light It Up, with cartoon trees halfway falling over and surrounded by little guys in green hats with hands full of string lights. I wonder who picked it out because it’s hilarious.

Once around the block, I hop the fence, RJ looping the video at the back of the house, not worried about our Chicago buddies. They’re not getting out of jail anytime soon.

Then it’s a scramble up the icy gutter to the portico, and a mildly terrifying leap across to the intended windowsill.

The ice on the sill has me scrambling for purchase, but I find a chunk with more snow than ice and stick it with my right hand. Kicking off the siding, I plant my other palm and barely haul myself up, until I’m standing on the sill and able to see where there’s snow and where there’s sheer ice.

Yup. I’m super lucky I stuck it at all. Winter retrievals aren’t for the faint of heart. And I’d be lying if I said seeing how close it was didn’t make my heart finally pound in my chest.

Like it should .

Like it hasn’t been doing right for the last few weeks.

Jimmying the window open, I slip in, closing it behind me before immediately wedging my hands between my thighs. Fuck, it’s cold. “I’m in.”

“Good. You’re going to the front of the house. The middle bedroom has been converted to a dressing room.”

“Got it.”

Not needing to hurry, I pull on my gloves before I amble to the front of the house, finding the intended room behind the second door I try. “Yikes, this guy is really into his money, isn’t he?” I ask. The room is practically gilded, the wallpaper so obviously hand-painted, even I can tell it’s one of a kind.

“Trips said he’s a prick. So I guess that’s not surprising. The jewelry is in a large safe at the back of the closet, behind a mirror.”

“Not this obvious-looking safe being used as a side table, then?”

“Of course not. If it’s not insured, it’s got to be well hidden.”

I chuckle, moving into the tunnel of clothes, lifting and dragging the heavy mirror away from the wall. “How does an old guy move this thing?”

“His right-hand man does it. The guy might even be personal security. I couldn’t tell. But he’s young and buff, so moving the mirror is his job.”

I nod along, inspecting an old-school safe that looks like it’s from the same era as the bloody jewels it hides. “Any chance you’ve got the combination?”

“That’s all you, thief boy.”

I laugh, not insulted. Because that’s exactly what I am. Exactly what I’ve been for so long, I don’t remember being anything else.

It’s been a while since I had to do a manual safe cracking, and I’m weirdly giddy. Thank goodness—another normal feeling.

Kneeling in front of the beast, I spin the dial a few times, getting a feel for it, then press my ear to the metal casing. Time turns liquid as I listen, finding the spots that signal one of the probable combination numbers. I’m sure I take a while, but RJ sits silent, and I have to admit that he’s right about having a skeleton crew for this kind of gig. I don’t need Trips grumbling about how long this takes when I’m in the zone.

Finally, the heavy door swings open, and it’s all I can do to breathe when I see what the ancient beast was hiding.

So many jewels. Different sizes and materials, settings and colors. “Wow.”

RJ’s silent for long enough that I feel the need to check in. “Are you seeing this?”

“Yeah. And the original plan of you pulling it all out one by one won’t work for this many pieces. Not in the time we have.”

“Sit tight while you check in?”

“Yup.”

I settle back onto my haunches, itching to touch them, to pocket them, to take and take and take, risk be damned. Instead, I focus on how these were already stolen twice over, and that if we can get them back to their long-lost owners, we’ll be the good guys for once.

It’s not helping the way it should .

“We have a new plan,” RJ says, saving me from myself. “We’re looking for silver-toned, gray, or black settings.”

“That actually narrows it down. Probably seventy percent of this stuff is yellow gold.”

“We’re not looking for glittery, but serious and dark. Bold, Walker wants me to add.”

I peer into the safe. “Okay, that really cuts it down.”

I start the tedious task of pulling out only the silvery items, only the dark pieces, the bold ones, and holding them in front of my chest, waiting for RJ to say “next,” then pulling the next piece.

It takes nearly forty-five minutes, the seconds counted in electric shocks down my spine, letting me know it’s getting close, when they finally narrow it down to six pairs of earrings, four bracelets, three watches, and no necklaces at all.

It’s obvious I have no idea what they’re looking for at this point. Aren’t necklaces a normal thing? My sister always has on at least one. Same with my mom.

The debate inches forward, and I know we’re running out of time. “RJ, do we know when to expect the owner back?”

“No, but it will probably be soon.”

“I have a proposition.”

Trips’ snort is audible, even played on speakerphone in the van to my earpiece. “And what’s your proposition?”

“I take them all. We can decide in person later.”

The silence has me nodding, tossing the earrings into my half-empty waist pack alongside all my unneeded emergency supplies, followed by the bracelets and watches. “We’re good, right? Because I need to clean up and get out of here. ”

Walker cuts in. “Yeah, that’s a good plan. We’ll see you home soon.”

There’s some rustling as I go back to the safe, and after a moment of hesitation, I turn my chest to the side and scoop up a tiara covered in crimson and black stacked stones and zip it into my pouch as well, a little something to go with that red dress we bought. The zipper on my waist pack stretches like a grim mimic of a mouth the moment before laughing. Then I lock up, my own grin flashing across my face.

So many pretty things, worth so much money, but at least I have a few now.

And who’s to say I won’t have a reason to come shopping here again in the future?

I haul the mirror back over, arranging it to RJ’s directions, making it match the screen grab he has.

Done, I head back through the house, pulling out a rag as I go. RJ’s baritone cuts through as I’m shimmying the window open with my cloth. “Incoming, man.”

“Back of the house or front?”

“Back. The owner. I’ll tell you when you’re good to risk it.”

I push the window closed, then duck down so the prick of a man can’t see me. Focusing on staying still, I listen to a rustle at the back door below, telling me how close this has gotten. It creaks open, but I stay hidden, waiting for RJ’s okay to leave. Only, it doesn’t come. Not for what feels like an eternity.

Finally, the back door clicks shut, and the sound of ice in a glass competes with RJ’s go-ahead. But when I slide the window open, the wood groans against the icy jam. RJ tells me to wait, and I hold my breath, not sure if it’s better to keep going or back out .

Only, I’ve been stuck too many times lately. I force the window the rest of the way open, ignoring RJ’s command, and step onto the sill, slamming the window shut once I’m out. While I’m midway into a leap to the portico, RJ finally tells me I’m safe to leave, and all I can think is that I’m glad to hear it, as I’m already well on my way.

Sliding down the eaves, I land on the crusty snow, my footprints not even leaving an imprint on the ice as I skitter onto the walkway and book it over the fence, dashing around the block, and leaping into the back of the van, the adrenaline I’ve been missing roaring through me.

I’m grinning as RJ spins to me, shaking his head. “You were supposed to wait.”

“I’m fine. Don’t worry about it. Should we stow and go, or just go?”

He glares at me, and I’d forgotten that RJ, for all his calm demeanor, has one hell of a glare. “Jansen, if you don’t listen, I can’t keep you safe.”

“I’m safe. No worries. I’ll do better next time.” I hope. Maybe. This just feels amazing right now, and it’s exactly what I needed. But next time, I can probably listen better. Possibly.

He shakes his head like he can hear the thoughts rattling around in my brain, before motioning me over to take out the earpiece.

That done, he climbs into the driver’s seat. “Buckle up. But Jansen? Know that I’m serious. If you can’t be a part of the team, you’re not going to have one.”

“Got it, bossman.”

“I’m not your bossman. ”

Flopping into the passenger seat, I buckle, unclipping my waist pack and setting it on the dash. “Then I’m not your underling.”

RJ pulls out, silent while I run my fingers over the bumps of the teeth on the zipper, not wanting to open it up and let him see exactly how poorly I followed directions tonight.

Finally, when we’re halfway home, he glances at me. “I’m not trying to tell you what to do. But I’m your eyes when you’re in there. I’m the one trying to keep you safe. And I’m the one who’ll have to live with the guilt of you getting caught.”

My tentative high is immediately quashed. Damn it. Now I have guilt in my gut instead of joy. I look out the side window, wishing I had that high back. But it’s gone. And it’s not even RJ’s fault. “You’re right. Sorry.”

He takes a few more turns, his face grim. “The mark was carrying in boxes from the car. Carefully. I’m guessing he was bringing home something expensive, which means he’s more likely to be jumpy. And the room next to the one you were in is literally full of guns. Antique and modern. Display and obviously ready to use. I didn’t want to risk you making more noise until I knew how worried he was about the window screech. It was dumb luck he tossed back a handful of nuts at the same time as you were making your escape, blocking the sound.”

This time of night, no one is on the highway, and I wonder if it was the same kind of empty when RJ got cornered behind my car. Yet another downer I’ve been avoiding since we retrieved my car from the impound lot earlier today .

Here’s another one—why can’t I just have my normal buzz back?

And why do I need a buzz at all?

I swallow down my thoughts, trying to breathe through the tingling in my chest. “Thanks, RJ. For keeping me safe.”

He doesn’t answer, just keeps driving, and the tiara hidden beneath my fingers burns with equal parts shame and excitement.

Doesn’t a princess deserve a crown? She might not be my princess, but it’ll look amazing, sparkling against her dark hair. I’m sure I’ll be able to convince Walker that it was worth the risk.

But glancing at RJ, it’s clear to see I won’t win him over. And Trips is all about security, not risk. If it weren’t for his family, he’d probably be a librarian or something, shushing kids for screaming and walking too loud.

Two vs. two.

Will Clara think it’s worth it? Should I even tell her how I got it? And how long will I have to hide it before I give it to her?

Waiting is not my forte.