RUIN: Psychological Enemies-to-Lovers Thriller

I smiled to myself. “He did the swoon.”

“Panties went wet?”

“Worry about your own panties, Quin.” I made sure all the credit cards were taken out, zipped the small bag up, and slung it into the empty passenger seat.

Quin’s girlfriend, Mimi, had several online shell companies. They were inactive companies that were kept dormant until it was time to clean credit card money. Each company had an undetectable payment processing account. Mimi would spend the next hours entering fake purchases onto the cards, siphoning as much as she could.

This took her two days.

Once done, Mimi placed the clean money into funnel accounts that were connected to her sex toy businesses. Then, those payments shifted to legal transactions.

On the third day, she withdrew the cash from her bank, kept her percentage, and gave the rest to Quinn.

On the fourth day, Quinn handed the money off to me at Glory Park.

Holy shit. This is going to be a big amount.

Quin drove us by the small playground, already full of hookers and johns exchanging sex for bills. “Did you figure out if the leader had a big dick?”

“Really?”

Quin shook her head. “Come on, Nix. I told you to tap the front of his pants—”

“While I was choking him?”

“Just a quick swipe up and down. You got to be smooth and—”

“Rapey.”

“It isn’t rape if it’s a robbery.”

“Why do you want to know his dick size? You’re not going to date him.”

“Why not?” She shrugged. “Hey, just because I like pussy, don’t mean I don’t like dick.”

“No, Quin. I’m talking about the obvious reason why you won’t date him.”

“Which is?”

“You can’t date guys that I’ve just robbed. They usually don’t like that shit.” I pointed to the bag in the passenger seat. “Either way, give those to Mimi—”

“Yeah. Yeah. 60-40 cut. Mimi will have it in crisp bills in four days. Stacked perfectly in a Louis Vuitton briefcase.” She turned us onto the widest bike path in the park. “I’m taking the briefcase cost out of your cut too.”

“Fine.” I picked through the bag, grabbing watches and rings. “You’re going to steal the briefcase anyway, so subtract zero dollars.”

“Yeah, but I can subtract the emotional and physical cost of taking the briefcase.”

“Hustle someone else, Quin.”

“Keep playing now.” She frowned. “I’ll get pleather bag from the $1 store with one of those plastic gold handles and fake Gucci logos.”

I snapped my view to her. “Are you trying to get shot this week?”

Laughing, Quin parked us by the bathrooms and shut off the car. “Bougie ass bitch.”

“You love it.”

“A bag is a bag, Nix.” She shut off the car’s headlights and pressed a button near the dashboard.

The trunk popped open.

I gestured to the leather seats. “And a car is a car.”

“Naw.” She opened her door. “There’s a massive difference from car to car. We’re talking about vehicles to success.”

“Me too.” I finished tossing the jewelry into the plastic bags. “A nice designer bag is my vehicle to success.”

“Whatever, Nix.” Chuckling, she honked the horn and left the car.

Kids stepped out of the bathrooms. Smoke spilled from the doorways. Rainbow lighting flashed inside and then the doors shut.

Quin leaned against the car, pulled out her pack of cigarettes, and spoke to the oncoming kids. “Get Devin.”

A teen girl with pigtails ran back to the bathrooms.

A tall kid strolled around the car and whistled. “Where did you get that, Q?”

“Mind your business.” Quin lit her cigarette.

He held his dirty hand out. “Can I drive the car for a little bit before Devin destroys it?”

She blew smoke in his face. “Grab the food from the trunk.”

“You don’t ever let me have fun, Q.” He stormed off.

“I saw your little grown ass over by the sculptures talking to the dealers last night.” She frowned at him. “Stop being stupid and I’ll let you have fun.”

“Sorry about that, Q.”

“That shit sure is sorry.”

I put the plastic bags of jewelry to the side and checked the black bag. “Alright. Only cash.”

I grabbed some empty plastic bags and stuffed those with what I determined was around 25% of the haul. That was Devin’s cut.

Once done, I set Devin’s money on the side, put the plastic bags of jewelry into the black bag, and then zipped it up.

Almost finished.

I opened the back door, grabbed all the bags, scooted out of the seat, and left the car.

By now more kids had arrived. Several went back and forth carrying grocery bags out of the trunk and to the bathroom. Other kids touched the wheels, probably assessing how they would take them off. Two boys jumped inside and messed around with the handles and gadgets. The windshield wipers came on, whipping the glass back and forth.

“Eh!” Quin called over her shoulder. “Get out of there!”

I checked my watch. “Where is this fool?”

As if hearing me, Devin stepped out of the bathroom.