Free The Heist by Sienna Mynx Page B

something more worthy of your talents?”
    “Lee, no!”
    “How about securing a future for Sasha so she doesn’t follow the life your father led?”
    “Sasha’s a grown woman. She’ll be twenty-one soon. Her future is hers to secure.”
    Lee shook his head.
    “Stop it! This is ridiculous. We had a deal.”
    “I make the deals, so I break the deals. Consider it broken. There’s another on the table. You’d be wise to not dismiss it.”
    “I’m leaving.”
    Lee stepped when she did and she drew back. “I know how you fought to keep Sasha off the streets. She ended up here, Michelle. Where will she go next?”
    Michelle laughed in his face. “You better hope she doesn’t go to the police.”
    “After what you stole tonight, I think that is your worry as well as mine.”
    Michelle’s smile faded from her lips. “Don’t force me into this, Lee. It would be a big mistake to think that you could.”
    “A deal, Beautiful. Pops has a debt and you know the code.”
    Michelle put her fingers to her brow. She steadied her nerves. “The Chalice doesn’t exist, remember? It’s a myth. And if it did exist, Pops would have told me.” She lowered her hand. He was unmoved. “I don’t know what happened between you two, it has nothing to do with me.”
    “You’re hurt. You need to change, shower. You can’t go out in the streets like this. One thing at a time, beautiful.”
    “I want to check on my sister.”
    “Sasha’s safe. You can call her if you like.” Lee stepped back and gestured to another door. “Feel free…to use my place. Afterwards, we can talk about what it is I do want.”
    Michelle turned to walk away; he captured her uninjured arm and drew her back. “We’re not done, Michelle, that’s my promise to you. Lee never breaks a promise.” She snatched her arm away and headed in the other direction, feeling his eyes on her.

 
     
    Chapter Seven
     
     
    Michelle wiped her hand across the condensation glistening on the mirror. The shower had soothed her pain. She felt better—physically. Emotionally, she was one pulsating nerve. She had to deal with Lee. Now .
    Pulling her band from her hair, she released her thick tresses and controlled the urge to cry. Pops told her tears were a wasted emotion. He taught her to channel that energy and direct it instead toward the source of the pain or torment. He taught her to get justice. But Pops was a liar and thief. Where was justice in being born into that? She picked up the washcloth and wiped her face. She could remember a time when Lee’s bedroom was the place she wanted to be.
     
    ***
     
    May 13, 2001—Milan, Italy
    “A straight? Well, I’ll be damned.” Lee dropped back in his chair.
    Michelle tucked the cigar into her jaw with her tongue. “Care to put that pinky ring on the table?” she asked, dragging over her winnings. Lee chuckled.
    She loved his laugh. It was smooth as Pop’s favorite brand of Johnny Walker, with a deep baritone of authority. He was cool, too. Everything about Leith Sullivan was cool. She didn’t know much about him though. He asked the questions and she mostly did the talking. It felt good to talk to someone other than Sasha, who was still too young to understand much. And the few times she could get into a routine of friends at school, she could never tell them the truth about her dad, about her skills. So, yeah, talking to Lee about everything she wanted to was kind of a thrill. She felt in control.
    “Isn’t it past your bedtime, kid?” he asked, checking the sparkly diamond watch on his wrist.
    The question stung. Michelle removed the cigar. “I’m sixteen!”
    Lee’s brow lifted. “Yes, and you’ve already smoked my best cigar and beat me out of my cash. C’mon, you need to call it a night. The sun will be up soon.”
    Michelle opened her mouth to object when Abahti stepped forward. “Boss, we have a problem.”
    Michelle’s heart began to race. Pops did the job without her. Lee was patient and