Mark (Mallick Brothers 3)

Two days later, we loaded up a new car we bought with cash from someone too ignorant to realize we needed to transfer the title. I took some extra time in the bathroom, making sure my disguise was perfectly in place. Me and King were pulling the main job this time, something that almost never happened because the other guys were always worried King would be too worried about me to pull off the job.

King had his fake nose and an ugly ol' mole on along with a temporary wash-out hair color that gave his dark brown hair an ugly reddish hue. I had my hair pinned up under a believable strawberry blonde wig, light blue contacts in, and spent over an hour doing heavy contour to my face which left it looking like I had completely different bone structure than I actually did. I also padded my bra and wore three tight layers under my tee to make myself look bulkier. I was being overly cautious since I had needed to show my face at the last job.

"You look like you're for hire," Atlas informed me as I came out, making me throw my perfume at him as I laughed. I hated the smell of this stuff too - all fake perfumes, all "fresh" scents that weren't fresh at all, and were giving me a wicked headache.

"Gee thanks," I said, grabbing the lightweight distressed jean jacket Rush handed me. I wouldn't be caught dead in a jean jacket normally, not even on a job, but Rush had been in charge of buying the clothes this time since I had been in a sour mood.

"We all set?" Kingston asked, a little more tense than usual, as he always was right before a job.

"Yep," I said, giving him an encouraging smile

And then we went and did the job.

And... nothing.

There was none of that 'high' I usually got from the adrenaline rush. There was no sense of accomplishment. There wasn't even any relief that we were one job closer to being done.

I should have been happy.

Two more jobs.

Just a couple more months.

Then all the stress, all the worry, it was over.

We could find a place and settle.

King could finally, finally be able to have a life of his own, free of the ever-nagging worry about his little brothers and sister.

I would be free.

Except, the niggling little voice in the back of my head said, it wasn't freedom. Free wasn't free when it came with clauses and amendments. I could do whatever I wanted in China or Russia. I could be who I wanted to be, except Scotti. I could make friends, but never, ever tell them where I had been and what I had done. I could have a man, but not ever Mark Mallick.

"Come on, Scott, you need it as much as we do," Rush reasoned, watching me in the rearview as I scrubbed at my face with baby wipes, wanting the pancake makeup off. My face felt like it couldn't breathe.

I honestly could have used a round or two or five. I could drown the bad mood in tequila, pretend the world didn't feel just slightly less bright and wonderful as it used to. I could flirt with a man. I could even go back to his place if I wanted to.

But the bigger part of me wanted to go and take a long shower, wash the day away, maybe take a walk through the garden which I had found to be cathartic. I had never been in one place long enough to even think about having a plant, let alone a garden. And I found as I got down on my hands and knees and pulled weeds, gave the other plants breathing room, as I sprinkled eggshells to stop the slugs, as I picked greens for truly fresh salads, that it was something I really did enjoy.

It was maybe the first thing I had truly learned I like to do, being the only thing I had really been able to explore doing.

Where did that leave me with career options if I wanted to go that route?

I wasn't sure. Maybe I could be a florist. Maybe I could get a job at a farm. Maybe, some day, I could have my own little farm and sell my goods to make ends meet.

Or maybe I would just have a backyard garden and backyard chickens that I could piddle around with in my free time.

At least it was something.

At least it gave me something outside of robbery and family to be passionate about.

"I have a headache from all this perfume," I insisted. They knew how I was about scents and it didn't fall on their ears as lies, though one look at Kingston said he knew it was just an excuse, even if it was halfway true. "But just drop me off, and you guys go yuck it up. You deserve it. This has been a busy month."