Thief of Hearts Page 32

“That doesn’t mean I’d break the law to pay them off. My God, that’s what all that talk was about at the gallery, and again at my parents’ house. You were trying to suss out how far I’d go.”

“He’ll hurt my family. My family. They’re all I’ve got, and I’d go to the ends of the earth to protect them. This isn’t about how far you’d go. It’s about how far I’d go, and I don’t think there’s anything I wouldn’t do to keep them safe.”

“That’s incredibly admirable, Stu,” I said, my voice still hard. “But I’m sorry, I can’t help you. You need to go to the police. Talk to Karla, even.”

“The police can’t help with this. You have no idea how powerful he is. That kind of power overrides the law.”

“If you do this and get caught, you’ll only get more time. You know that, right?”

He stared at me, his expression blank. “It’s a chance I have to take.”

“Well, I won’t be taking it with you. I’m sorry, but I just can’t.”

Stu didn’t respond, instead he turned and left the room, his shoulders drawn tight. He was angry with me, that much was clear. But what else could I do? We weren’t Bonnie and Clyde. As far as I was concerned, the world of theft and art heists was the stuff of movies and crime novels. It wasn’t real, not to someone like me.

And it certainly wasn’t a world I ever wanted to be in.

Twelve


Stu didn’t return to class that afternoon, his empty desk a stark reminder of what he’d revealed to me earlier in the day. I could still hardly believe it, and I had so many more questions. Like, did he know I had money troubles before he’d chosen to befriend me? And what exactly did this robbery entail? Who was he stealing from, and where?

The fact that he’d targeted me, that he’d known who I was before we’d even met made me feel vaguely ill. Of course, I couldn’t deny that the idea of being debt free, of being able to live my life without bills and constant repayment worries, sounded like heaven. But it wasn’t as though I could just randomly pay off my debts without explaining where my sudden windfall had come from.

It just seemed like so many details of his proposal hadn’t been thought through.

As though to punctuate my current situation, I arrived home to find a money collector standing on my doorstep. He was tall and broad, wearing a brown leather jacket and worn jeans. I couldn’t tell what age he was from behind, but if I were to guess I’d say late forties. I hid behind the bushes out front (not my finest moment) as he lifted the knocker and continually banged on the door. Alfie was clearly ignoring him, though he wasn’t known to answer the door to strangers, especially ones who looked like this.

I walked to the end of my street and waited until he was gone. I only made a move after he pulled away in his car, looking pissed that he hadn’t gotten to speak to anyone.

“Andie! There was a man at the door for over twenty minutes, and he looked shifty. He shoved this through the letterbox before he left,” said Alfie when I finally entered the flat. He handed me a sealed envelope with my name on it. I didn’t have to open it to know what kind of threats lay within.

“It’s okay. Nothing for you to worry about,” I said as I tiredly made my way into the kitchen. Alfie watched as I poured myself a glass of wine then took a seat by the counter. I was exhausted. This day felt like it was never going to end.

“It was a money collector, wasn’t it?” said Alfie, his voice soft. “I’m not stupid. I know what they look like. Do you need a loan? I can give you some money when I sell my next painting if you need it.”

“No, Alfie, this isn’t your problem,” I replied. “It’s mine. I’ll figure something out.” Alfie’s rent money already came from his painting sales, so I wouldn’t dare ask him for more. He had to live, too.

“But how? Aside from winning the lottery, there isn’t much you can do.”

“I know,” I said, staring glumly into my wine glass. “I know.”

“What about your parents? Surely they must have some money set aside.”

I shook my head. “They’ve already given me a lump sum. I won’t ask them again.” Stu’s voice echoed in my head, his offer sounding more and more appealing by the minute. If only it didn’t frighten me so much.

“You’re thinking of something. What is it?” said Alfie, his gaze perceptive.

I slid my eyes to his, chewing on my lip as I considered telling him everything. In the end, I went with, “I had a weird day.”

“How so?”

“You remember my new student?”

“You mean the one you disappeared from Jamie’s shop with on the weekend? Don’t think he didn’t fill me in.”

I shook my head. Those two were like a pair of gossiping old ladies sometimes. “He invited me to his brother’s birthday party. I didn’t want to be rude.”

“He’s your student, Andie. It’s not rude to refuse an offer like that. It’s called being professional.”

I scrunched my face up at his disapproval, feeling sorry for myself when I blurted, “There’s more to it, you know. He befriended me for a reason.”

It must’ve been the wine giving me loose lips. The alcohol was hitting me hard because I hadn’t eaten since breakfast. The whole thing at lunch sort of stunted my appetite. “It was all because he wanted to meet you. He was using me.”

Saying the words made it hurt more. My chest felt strangely empty and I realised just how much I’d enjoyed Stu’s interest. It had awoken something in me both old and new, something I didn’t think existed anymore. Now I knew it was all an act. Of course it was. I was such a fool, blinded by his handsome face and smooth come-ons. Stu must’ve thought I was completely naïve falling for his charms, especially since all the while he had an ulterior motive.

Picking up my wine glass, I downed the rest of its contents and poured myself another.

“I don’t understand,” said Alfie, his voice wary. “Why would he want to meet me?”

“Because he wants you to paint him a replica. A piece he can use in a robbery. And he knows about my debt, that’s why he wants me to help him. He’s trying to tempt me with the prospect of being able to pay it all off. You were right all along. I should’ve listened to you. He wasn’t to be trusted, but like a naïve fool I let myself believe he was a genuine person.” That he liked me.

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