She held the pencils in her hand. The deep violet next to the bright orange made her think of a sunset. A beautiful, spectacular sunset with all the shades of blues, purples, oranges and pinks that the eye could detect.
With a quick look around, she stuffed the violet and orange into the pocket hidden between the folds of her skirt, joining them with a red, a yellow, and green pencils she had snatched at a previous shop.
She straightened out the wrinkles in her skirt with her hands and then reached up to tighten the bow of her hat that her mother had cinched up that morning.
Edging her way towards the door, feeling ever so sneaky and accomplished, she nodded to the lady at her left who nodded to her in return. Being of polite society, she had been taught to pay her respects to the ladies and gentleman that she passed during her time in town. But before she could reach for the handle on the door, a firm grip caught her by the arm which was followed by a gruff voice that she knew very well belonged to the shopkeeper.
"Miss Jameson, what in this Good Galaxy, do you think you are doing?"
She looked up at him, feigning confusion. "Mr. Mills, whatever do you mean?" She hoped the face she was giving the shopkeeper lived up to the standards of artificial innocence her brother had taught her.
"Turn out your pockets, young lady."
Without hesitation, she went to turn out her pockets.
So far the only benefit she had found in the sewing lessons her mother insisted she take, was learning how to make embroidered pockets, and now that her dress had three pockets instead of the standard two, her career as an amateur pilferer was so much easier.
If she was going to make the effort to steal something, she was going to be smart about it.
She pulled out the fabric that lined the inside of her pockets, revealing to Mr. Mills that, they were indeed, void of anything. "See sir? Empty."
A young man came up to stand next to her. "Now, Mr. Mills, I believe you owe my sister an apology. Accusing a lady of stealing, why I'd say something to my father if I knew you weren't, deep down, a respectable gentleman yourself. Now, what do you say to that apology?" The young man's green eyes were bright and merry, but they did not lack that hint of deviousness, a trait shared by both Jameson children.
Mr. Mills' deep set eyes flickered from her to her brother, then he settled his gaze on her. "My apologies, Miss Jameson. Please excuse these old eyes. They do play tricks on me." His smile, despite its years of cheerfulness, was more contemptuous now as he looked at her.
"All is forgiven, Mr. Mills." She cooed, and never one to deny a little flourish, curtsied too.
Mr. Mills nodded his head towards the Jameson children before he sulked off to where he had been monitoring his shop behind the desk.
She took her brother's arm and he led her out of the art supply shop. Once they cleared the steps and were walking down the road, he turned to her and flicked her in the nose – hard.
Her gloved hands flew upwards to cover it from any following abuse. "What was that for?!"
"For acting like such a spoiled brat. You're almost nine years old now, Ora. When are you going to start acting your age? And when am I going to have to stop looking out for you?
"You don't always have to look out for me, Ryker." She chided. "Like you said, I'm almost nine. I know how to take care of myself." She straightened her bonnet and began to walk away from him, her stinging nose held high, but he kept a steady pace behind her, following her step by step, like older brothers do.
Never let her out of your sight. Mother's words always seemed to echo in his mind.
"Well, what's going to happen when he finds those pencils on the floor where you so conveniently dropped them?" He caught up to her and she stopped.
"He won't." She said simply, her nose still upturned.
"Won't what?"
"Find them." She turned to him and went on her tiptoes to whisper in his ear. "They're in a different pocket." He looked at her and found the sliest of smiles on her face.
"Oh, I've created a monster." She giggled and threaded her arm through his once more.
"Don't tell mother." She said, not looking up at him.
With an over exaggerated gesture, he brought his right hand to rest upon the spot over his heart, "Oh my honor as your older brother and protector."
She beamed up at him and squeezed him arm. He couldn't help but smile back at her as he squeezed right back.
"Thea!"
The Lieutenant's snapping fingers were inches away from her face.
"What!?" Yelling, she slapped his hand away.
"You were completely out of it for a whole block. I was talking and you spaced out. Where did you go?"
She thought about that. Where had she gone? Was that…had that been a memory?
"I- I don't know. I'm not sure."
The Lieutenant resituated himself in his seat. "Well, you were in some sort of daze. I was debating with whether or not I was going to have to slap you out of it if snapping didn't work. Maybe then we would have had matching bruises." He smiled at her, a smile she probably would have noticed, and one that probably would have made her blush, her mind was racing with thoughts about what she had just possibly relived.
"Hey, you okay? You seem sort of distracted."
"Do I?" She bit out.
He scoffed. "Yeah, that's what I just said."
"Well I am distracted! You're distracting me, so shut up!"
"Okay, well, excuse my concern." He murmured while straightening his uniform jacket before he crossed his arms and turned to look out the window.
Thea let out a huff before she followed suit and looked out her own window.
She hadn't really meant to be rude. Since they had gotten in the coach, he had only been open and genuine with her and she had reciprocated his playful banter with a curt 'shup up' and he had done it. He didn't really deserve it and that really wasn't what she had wanted.
It had felt good to be heard and never had anyone (not even backstabbing pseudo-dad Thelonious Spratt) expressed what felt like true concern for her and her sob story of an existence. And here was a person that was finally giving her the time of day. A person that was (she would begrudgingly admit) slightly attractive, and attentive as well, and surprisingly hadn't turned out to be a complete jerk, and she was acting treating him like trash and acting like an idiot. Maybe she should apologize? But what was the point in that? They didn't necessarily have to be on good terms. Once she was able to form some sort of escape plan, she was going to leave him and Mosli behind, maybe to finally try and find some answers as to who she had been and then figure out who she was going to be from there.
And on top of all that, had she had a flashback? She hadn't had one of those in over ten years.
Had that truly been her stealing those pencils? Had Jim's question triggered the memory? Could it happen again? She had so many questions. And if the memory was hers and she had been the one stealing the pencils, then that meant that she had a brother and she had been proper and she had had a mother and she had worn skirts and bonnets.
If that had been her in her old life, she also knew now that she must have always had a knack for crime, which, in all honesty, was a little disappointing.
Thea's mind was so busy dissecting what she had possibly relived that she hadn't realized the coach had stopped till the driver wrenched open the side door with enough force to startle both her and the Lieutenant.
"We're here Miss. Ayvon District, Building 29."
Thea nodded at him and looked at Jim, but he wasn't looking at her…for once.
He quickly made his way out the open door, his boots sending up a cloud of red dirt as his feet hit the ground. Without even thinking about it, he turned around and offered up a hand to assist her. He mentally knocked himself on the head for it. Damn his formal training as an officer. He noticed her green eyes flash from his face to his outstretched hand.
Trying to be as graceful as possible she slid on the bench towards the open door and gathered up her cloak in one hand while she reached for the Lieutenant's outstretched one with the other. She gave him a small smile as she stepped out onto the street, but he wasn't giving into that, so her minor attempt to smooth things over between them was met with a steely gaze and lips pressed into a hard line.
Fine. If he was going to play that game, she could too. The instant her feet hit the ground she snatched her hand out of his and started to briskly walk down the street, leaving the Lieutenant behind.
This could have possibly been her chance to leave, but her time in the coach had been spent between being flustered by the attentions of the Lieutenant to reliving a possible memory, and escape plans had not been on her mind, even though they very well should have been.
The hot, dry wind whipped at Thea's hair and cloak as she made sharp turns down the narrow street. She knew the Lieutenant was probably trying to catch up, but she wasn't going to slow down. Most definitely not.
With her mind elsewhere while she had been walking, Thea had failed to notice the sound of light footfalls behind her. Footfalls that did not match her babysitter's. And now that she thought about it, shockingly, the Lieutenant hadn't yelled at her to slow down or said something else she would have ignored. Thea turned around to tell him off but instead of finding the Lieutenant huffing and puffing behind her, there was a skinny, hunched over, shady looking character, holding a pair of jagged knives.
In truth, Thea was surprised it had taken so long for someone of questionable intentions to show up looking for her. After the termination of her contract with Spratt, news of her unemployment, and subsequent lack of protection must have reached the ears of every lowlife hitman of Mosli looking for their next job, and for this particular individual, she was his.
"How much?" She demanded, knowing he would know what she meant.
"Enough." He hissed.
She rolled her eyes. "Ah, come on. If I'm about to be hacked to pieces by your little knives, I'd like to know how much you're getting paid for it."
He hesitated, then said, "1,000 gold pieces." It's like she had been hit in the stomach.
"Ha! Seriously?" He wasn't objecting. "That's insulting!" She barked. "Who's ridiculous price is that?"
With a nasty sneer on his face, he started to creep towards her. "I was told this would be an easy job."
"Not really an answer to my question, but I'll go ahead and tell you your benefactor is both a liar and a cheater. So let's try this again, who's paying you? A name would really be helpful here."
He was about 10 yards away from her.
"Dunno," he shrugged while nonchalantly twisting the knives around his fingers, "I go lookin' for a job, someone offers me one, and when it's worth that much I don't ask questions."
"Typical first rate hitman. Always get the name of the person paying you, silly."
He was getting ever closer.
"You know, you do so many things for the criminal community, so many jobs, and you think you have the respect of your fellow no-do-gooders, but then the price on your head barely amounts to anything. I'm honestly offended." He ignored her.
Less than 5 yards away now.
But before he could get any closer, she added. "You know, I'm truly sorry they offered you so little."
He looked at her like she had gone crazy, but shook it off and replied with, "I'm sorry it's gonna end like this.", in that sort of cliché way that she hated, and then he jumped into action.
His skinny legs propelled him up and forward. Both of his arms were raised high as if to strike her down as he landed, but she hadn't been Spratt's top lackey due to her dazzling personality and girlish charm.
She moved out of his way before his feet even touched the ground and as he went to turn on her, knives poised and ready, she kicked him with full force in the stomach. The momentum of it sent him hurtling backward, knives flying from his hands as a choked breath whooshed out of him. Thea bolted towards the knives and before he even had time to recover, they were both in her possession and now pointed at him; one poised perfectly under his jaw and the other at his lower back.
"You move," she breathed out, "and you're dead."
The hitman's bulging eyes blinked from her face to the knife by his throat, to what she was now guessing was Lieutenant Hawkins catching his breath behind her. Thea tossed her head to the side and looked at him with contemptuous eyes.
"Thanks for finally joining us Lieutenant. You really haven't missed much."