Chapter Four
My foot collides with the bag and a mighty thump resonates around the room. The bag sails to the side before I come at it again with a back knuckle. Without hesitation, I hit the bag behind me with a sharp back kick; meeting the first with a roundhouse. Panting a little from exertion, I place my hands on my head and glance at the clock: 5 AM. Thankfully, Peter had the basement sound proofed, I remind myself as I turn my music even louder. This is so much better than yoga. It's always been my philosophy that martial arts has way better zen properties, anyway.
"I'm surprised Jason's picture isn't taped there." Someone announces from the stairs. I spin to see Peter standing there, leaning against the door frame. Wiping the sweat off my brow, I wonder how in God's name he knew I was here.
"Couldn't find one." I admit, starting back in on a form. Peter walks a little closer and leans into the bag, keeping it stable as I finish up with a hook kick. My foot hits with a lovely sound. If I could put that song on my I-pod and listen to it twenty for seven, I would. It's the beat that marks the countdown on a job and keeps me sane through my daily shenanigans.
"Why do you hate him so much?" He asks. I pause, still bouncing on my toes and keeping my hands on guard. I don't understand why Peter's asking, he owns the house, but usually he just takes in thieves without prying; letting them work out their issues on their own time. I guess since I've been here so long, he's decided its' okay to ask questions. I'm so taken back by his boldness, that I can't help the total and complete idiocy that I respond with.
"He hit on me." Which pretty much sums it up, but I still can't believe I said that to Peter of all people. I'm mortified by even the thought of it. Asking for romantic advice from Peter is my worst nightmare. Then again, he could be Liam… That might be a little awkward.
"And what's so awful about that?" Peter asks, and I can feel my jaw literally hit the floor. "I mean, why do hate the attention Hannah." I feel the blush creep all the way up my face. I run my hands through my hand through my hair and shake my head. This is very, very extremely wierd. What's so bad about Jason hitting on me? Do you want a list?!
"I can't believe your saying this, especially after you decked that guy in Morocco for staring at my butt." I remind him and he smiles a little. He's always been like the eldest brother, forever and a day, holding our dysfunctional family together. I can't imagine it's a very fun job, but Peter's the reason we're all here, and he does his job well.
"True, you've always been like my little sister, and yeah I'm protective over you, but you can handle yourself pretty well, and I don't want you to like your life in this little bubble"Shaking my head,I'm sure he's gone crazy. Living in a bubble, what hogwash; I've propelled down the Empire Statebuilding, beaten up a palace guard in England, moved through a lazer grid to steal a Monet, if that's living in a bubble then I'm thrilled in my little bubble.
"I hate him because he's talked to me like I'm trash, not because he's giving me that kind of attention." I assure him, returning to my form. I bow and open up, starting with an upward block, dodging an imaginary club. Sliding in to a cat stance and moving the imaginary arm into a break position, I take a deep breath.
"Okay then, be upstairs in a half an hour, we're moving onto the next round." Peter informs me, while making his way up the stairs.
…
I plop down into my seat at the kitchen table, my hair still damp from my shower. Liam grins at me from his spot beside me. Danny perches on the counter top, fidgeting with a stick of dynamite. Owen rests his laptop on the table as he sits at the foot. Peter arrives next taking his seat at the head of the table. James strolls in finding a spot and leaning against the door. After the plans all set James we'll probably go back to his million dollar boarding school. He'll found whatever we do, but he's not one for getting his hands dirty. Jason finally saunters downstairs, taking the seat across from. His foot brushes mine and he grins. I can't help the violent red blush that spreads across my face. I draw my foot back and kick his leg.
"Quit the footsie you two!" Peter reprimands, while spreading out a blueprint. "That was my leg." He teases, and winks at me. I blush some more and Liam smiles a little. Why does everybody think…? Ugh!
"So what are we stealing?" Jason asks, the only one unaware. Danny blinks at him before grinning.
"I forgot you were passed out cold at that point." Danny laughs, Liam gentle elbows me.
"I meant to say it yesterday, excellent punch." Liam teases me, and Jason blushes. I will admit, it felt fabulous to let out my frustrations yesterday and hit Jason. I'm even okay with the teasing from the rest of the gang.
"It's not her best skill either." Jason smirks and the room goes dead silent. We all know what he's referring to and I can feel myself take on the resemblance of a tomato. I remember precisely how I felt when he kissed my last night. My eyes widen and he just tilts his head and raises his eyebrows at me. No one would ever, ever make that kind of…. Liam stands up, slamming his hands on the dining room table. He looks like he's going to vault himself over the table and strangle Jason himself.
"Take it down a notch you two." Peter orders stoically. "And by the way, he's right" the crew gives him sharp looks of shock. "Her best skill is throwing knives." He reminds us. "You'd do well to remember that." We all know that comment was meant solely for Jason. He nods respectfully. What a farce; that boy doesn't have a respectful bone in his body.
"So what's the job?" Jason asks, thankfully changing the subject from my "skills". I wish I had missed that innuendo.
"Not what. Who." Peter corrects.
"Who?" Jason asks, glancing at me. I grin at him. Only my favorite person on the planet, and the main reason I became a thief. I was six years old, staring at a painting, and I decided I wanted it; the mean old man who lived here didn't deserve it anyway. So, I picked it up off the mansions wall and sprinted out the door; tripping a few guards in the proccess
"Picasso." I announce, raising an eyebrow and smirking. Jason's face lights up like a kid on Christmas morning.