CHAPTER SEVEN - To Love a Thief
NOTE-Lulu and Spinelli are both twenty five in this story.
"Jack."
Standing behind him on the docks, late at night, Lulu whispered his nickname, a shortened version of The Jackal.
His shoulders stiffened but when he turned around he gave her a easy smile, one she knew he had worked hard to get to look relaxed and unaffected by her. When they first broke up he hadn't been able to pull off that smile nearly as well.
"Hey, Spence."
That was as close to a nickname as he would call her now. Gone was the silliness that made her crack up when they were younger. Spinelli was still that way with others, just not with Lulu, never with her.
She took in that his hair was shorter now, and the perpetual stubble he sported shaved from his face. To her, he still looked just as adorably disheveled though.
"When did you get back?" Lulu asked
"Day ago."
She nodded. He had been gone six months and eight days. Though it was two years past when he broke up with her, Lulu still kept her ear open for what was going on with her old friend.
She'd never forgive him for choosing Luke over her. At least, that is what she told herself. But there were times she wondered if she was just waiting for him to change his mind and want her again.
Spinelli said, his voice low, "You're looking good."
Lulu smiled, her blues eyes sparkling, "It's what I do best, right?"
"Second best," the words slipped from his lips before he could stop them, evoking erotic images in both of their minds.
Thoughts of them in happier times, in a loft in New York where she used to live and he used to visit her, raced through Lulu's thoughts.
They were only together for three months. But they had been great months. Months to remember.
Anger quickly replaced the heat that started to rise in her, like it always did when she thought of what he had walked away from. She crossed her arms over her chest.
Coldly, she asked "Got a job?"
Spinelli said, "Yeah, temping. I start at ELQ on Monday."
Her eyes cut into him, "Nice cover. Gonna fetch coffee by day and rob the safe by night?"
"Would I do that?" He smiled.
She tried to fight back a grin, but failed. She took a breath and studied him
Damn thief, Lulu thought bitterly
She would love to stick her hand out and say, My heart. I would like it back, Spinelli. Now.
If only it worked that way.
"So my father lied about getting out?" she asked
"Six months ago? You heard that rumor, huh? From Lucky?" Spinelli asked
That was an old trick of his, asking questions and never answering any. He had said to her once, You love me, huh?
Had he ever loved her back ? Who knew. Who could read a con man and know if he was telling the truth. Lulu hadn't been sure and still wasn't.
Spinelli asked, " Or are we making the gossip pages at The Herald?"
The Port Charles Herald is where Lulu worked for the last year. After college she became an intern at Rolling Stone magazine.
Later, when she moved back home, she took a job with the local paper. Just a month before she had gotten her own column, in it she reviewed bands and albums.
"No." Lulu said "I doubt most people in this town have a clue about Scorpio's Eight."
Spinelli titled his head at her and whispered, his voice half joking, "Rule number 10."
"I don't give a damn about Rule number 10." Lulu hissed back at him.
Rule 10- Never say the name of the crew aloud in public.
Luke had started calling them Scorpio's Eight because Robert was the one who organized things, picked the players and planned the heists.
By day, they all worked nine to five jobs. Robert and Luke ran the bar. Zander used to drive a forklift in a warehouse on the docks, before he started boxing. Carly worked the angle of being a rich widow. Jason told people he was a writer for Solider of Fortune magazine, under a pen name so no one could disprove his lie. Lucky played the starving artist who mooched off his heiress girlfriend. And Mac ran an internet business with Anna as his partner- they sold personal protection devices like stun guns, alarms, and pepper spray.
"There's no job," he lied to her.
"Rule number nine?" she asked
He didn't answer and she knew she was right. Rule number nine- Never admit to a heist.
"Well, good luck with that, Damien." There was ice in her voice. She only called her his given name when she was pissed.
The last words she said to him on the day they broke up were a string of curse words and then You'll regret this, Damien.
And he did.
Lulu gave him one last disapproving look, in it Spinelli could see a million broken dreams that she would never admit to -ones he was responsible for putting there- and then she turned to walk away.
Over her shoulder, she tossed back at him "Don't let my father get you killed...Jack."
CARLY's eyes opened and adjusted to the darkness in her bedroom. Even though she had been asleep, she knew the moment Jason stepped into the room.
She asked him, "Yeah?"
There was no surprise in her voice. Over the years he came to her in the middle of the night too many times to count. But then something always went sideways between them during the day.
The last time it had been her seeing him going upstairs at Jake's with Brenda, and then him finding her, later that same night, with Corinthos.
Jason asked her now, softly, "You start the con yet?'
Meaning had she reconnected with Sonny.
"You don't run my part of this." She told him "I got it handled."
He walked closer and she sat up in bed. The moon cast a shaft of light over the middle of the room.
She swallowed when she saw the look in his eye.
Carly titled her head, "Not a good idea."
His leather jacket came off, tossed onto the floor.
"Probably not," he agreed, dropping his shirt onto the ground.
He sat on the bed, facing away from her and yanked off his shoes.
Carly's voice was cool, not showing any of the fire that raced through her veins for him, when she asked "You don't think it's gone too far this time?"
He stalled.
Her eyes closed and she heard him moving. When she opened her eyes he was standing there, minus his pants.
Jason's eyes met hers. They weren't great at talking to each other, things often came out wrong. But they were good at this.
And he thought, maybe, Carly might understand that him being here meant something. Like he missed her, like he was sorry, like things happened and he didn't want to let those things kill them.
She needed to hear words. He didn't have any.
Carly reached out a hand, he took it and smiled. They, at least, still had the night.
The next afternoon, Robert walked into the apartment building where his daughter, her husband, and child lived. He saw Anna on the elevator, she held the door.
His ex- wife's eyes were questioning, waiting to see how Robert would play this.
As he stepped onto the car he said, "The thief staying home?"
Anna replied, "No, you're here."
The doors closed. He looked at her, soaking in her image to savor later.
"He couldn't face me, huh?" Robert asked, feeling smug.
"Mac is upstairs already," Anna said.
Robert frowned and looked away. In his arms he held a wrapped present, for his granddaughter's first birthday. Anna held one of her own.
The rest of the short ride was sent in uncomfortable silence. Anna tried to push down the words that longed to bubble up, and with any other man she could have.
"Robert," she said as the doors opened "if you were going to give it all up anyway... the business... why did you wait till I was gone...why?"
Even as she asked, Anna knew the answer, because she knew this man like she knew herself.
He couldn't give it up, and six months ago he was only lying to himself when he tried.
The life of a thief would be his until the day he died, probably in the middle of a heist gone bad.
Anna might go the same way, she hadn't decided yet, but for Robin she would try to walk a finer line, to at least pretend she could only dabble in those kinds of thrills.
Robert held the door, and motioned for her to exit the elevator.
She stepped into the hall. He passed her his gift.
"You aren't coming?" Her words were sharp, disappointed.
"Tell Kaitlyn Happy Birthday from me," he said
Their eyes met. Then he removed his hand from the door and it started to slide shut.
Anna threw one soft word at him, "Chicken."
His hand shot out and stopped the doors.
Robert said, "Fine, have it your way. The whole Scorpio clan in the same place again, should be fun." He walked past her, grabbing back his gift and added, "I just hope I can keep my lunch down."
A FEW HOURS LATER
Mac had never felt more uncomfortable in his life. Not when he set off a bomb that left innocent people dead, though usually none of them were innocent and it hadn't been people he was blowing up in years.
Still the bombs and the cons were easy.
Being stuck in a room with this family he loved, who for the most part either hated or misunderstood him, was hell.
Robert was throwing cheap shots at him left and right. Felicia had brought the girls to the party but also brought her new man, Noah Drake.
Mac had plotted ten different ways to kill the good doctor within the first half an hour.
Robin tried to manage the tension but it left her worn out, the baby cranky and Patrick pissed.
Good times.
Mac kissed his niece on the cheek and said, "I got to take off."
Robin nodded. "You should come and have lunch with us next week. Kat misses you since you started playing hermit at the Lake House."
Mac promised to call, but doubted he would. Robin might not blame him for breaking up her parents marriage but she still did think he was sleeping with Anna, and that made everything strained.
He took one last look at Felicia, Georgie and Maxie and, after giving his girls a quick wave, slipped out the door.
There was work to do on the job Anna found them.
Mac punched numbers into his cell phone as he rode the elevator to the street, "Stan, you got the blueprints? Yeah, I got the cash... Yeah, what we agreed on... Don't back out on me now. That would make me very unhappy, Stan... This will not come back on you. Corinthos isn't clever enough to decipher the ingredients on a box of cereal let alone computer code to track the electronic transfer. That's what he has you for ... All right, meet me on the docks."