DOUBLE-CROSSED HEARTS

Chapter 3: Spark

When she got home zonked and struggling to connect two steps, Maya collapsed on the couch and it had been almost an hour and a half of sleep until her landline started ringing louder than it had ever rang since she acquired it. For a person who had escaped a near-death experience, she must have been a different breed of tough. Instead of picking up the landline, she stretched her arm in search of her iPhone on the table, rubbing sleep from her bleary eyes. There were seven missed calls and six of them from her mum who was freaking out after watching the news.

"Mum..."

"Where on earth have you been? You scared me to death. I've just watched the news and there was a robbery at the bank you work for"

"Calm down mum. I'm okay. You know I can take care of myself"

"Robbers seem to take out the loudest in the hall"

"They didn’t. If it makes you feel better, no one was hurt. They just took the money"

"Ooh thank God. Why weren't you picking up the phone? I had to call your landline to get your attention"

"This might sound funny..." She yawned lazily zombie-walking to the kitchen, "I was sound asleep"

"After having such a rough day?"

"I guess am already used to it"

"That can be loneliness too. Get someone to love you for Christ's sake"

"Mum"

"Whatever. Goodnight sweetheart. Stop by over the weekend I’ll make your favorite"

"Goodnight Mum"

The moment she hung up Maya quickly attacked the snacks from her kitchen cabinet. She was starving, still in her work clothes, and her mind still adapting to her surroundings. Her phone buzzed again moments after she stuffed a handful of potatoe crisps in her mouth. She shrugged barely chewing, it was her best friend or someone close to one.

"Hey, are you okay?"

"I'm good Anny. You?"

"Well, I don't work in a bank that was robbed today, crazy ass b***h! Why weren't you picking up?"

"Fell asleep on the couch. Can I call you after a couple of minutes?"

"Sure" Anita hung up.

Maya quickly poured herself a glass of mango juice from the fridge and grabbed the bag of crisps with her back to the living room. She had a single three-seater grey Chester couch, a mahogany black lacquered coffee table resting on a grey mat, and a TV stand with a thirty-six-inch Samsung TV that she rarely watched accumulating dust. At the far end towards the open kitchen was a small dining table with two chairs. Her house was simple yet well-organized and lovely.

"Hi, here I am"

"How did you manage to catch sleep..."

"After almost dying? You sound like my mum"

"You know a normal person would be freaking out right now"

"I'm not your average girl I'm I?"

"You ain't bulletproof either Maya. I'm glad you're okay. You had me worried"

"Thanks bud. Hey, a quick one..." She stopped chewing altogether, "this is going to sound weird but I need your opinion on something"

"Come on, with you I have heard far much worse"

"Okay. Is it weird that I feel attracted to a bank robber?"

There was an awkward silence. That's because Anita froze on the screen and her eyes as big as saucers almost popped out of their comfy sockets. The next thing she did was burst into thunderous laughter, which Maya joined in with her angelic giggles then she stopped abruptly.

"I'm serious b***h"

"Wait a minute, you're what?"

"Fuckin serious with feeling attracted to one of the gangsters that captured us today. Their leader specifically. We took a selfie and he asked for my number..."

"Before I even comment on how weird all this sounds please tell me you gave him a fake"

"What?"

"A fake number halfwit!"

"No, I gave him my real number"

"How long were you captured?"

"Five minutes, maybe ten it's not like I was counting"

"You needed only five minutes to fall in love with a robber, take a selfie, and give him your phone number?"

Maya nodded confidently. She couldn't believe Anita was freaking out after she promised to be okay with whatever crazy thing that was going to come out of her mouth. Fake friends everywhere. The thing is to Maya none of that sounded obnoxious. Neither was the fact that she was patiently waiting for him to call. That's if he had balls enough to call if not she was going to join Detective Stewart and find him instead.

"You know what, you're sick in the head"

"You promised"

"I didn't have this on my worst ideas list. Maya, you can't be desperate enough to love a bank robber..."

"I didn't say love. I like him"

"Potato potatoe. Did you even see his face?"

"No, he was wearing a mask but he sounded smart and cute"

"You are going to block him when he calls and turn him in"

"No. I’ll be willing to listen to what he has to say"

"He is a robber, he kills people God knows how many have perished under his hand. You of all people should do the right thing"

"No. There's a bunch of guys paid to do that"

"You have two..." Maya hung up.

Anita tried to call but she hung up again laughing her head off. Call her crazy but, she wasn't alone. Another loser like her was miles away zooming in and out her picture and asking himself if it was weird to get attracted to a bank employee when his job was to rob banks. Made sense to them and not to the rest of those around them but still, who cared? As long as they were happy right?

Once she was done with the snacks Maya shoved the utensils to the sink before she headed to her room to freshen up. It was spacious with a massive bed in the middle, a shelf of books, and a working desk with a desktop and printer on top and a shredder underneath. Her trash can was full of shredded papers. Another sheaf of papers sprawled all over the desk. She slid out of her work clothes and let loose her hair, admiring herself in the massive wall-drop mirror before she changed into a vest top and a pair of shorts. On the bedside table was a lamp and a framed picture of her family. She walked over and picked it up. It had been five years since that picture was taken and sadly it was the last memory she shared with her father before he died.... point of correction before he was killed.

"Alexa play, champion by Bishop Briggs"

That was her workout song. She grabbed a punching bag from the closet and lodged it on a hanging hook from the ceiling, tied bandages around her hands, and tied her hair back in a ponytail. It was time to get out all the anger in her chest on the poor inanimate object, she punched it so hard, each punch with the precision and power of Iron Mike. Ten minutes later she was sweating profusely and the bag was swinging like a pendulum as she headed to the bathroom.

****

The party that started at the uncle’s manor ended at Club Scorpion which was “legally” owned by the uncle. It was where he and his boys met most of the time enjoying their spoils. As expected it was filled to the brim, a giant disco ball rotating on the ceiling. The music created a lively mood, at a favorable volume perfect for dancing and chatting. In the VIP suite, overlooking the entire club from the first floor the uncle was surrounded by girls, money, and drugs on the table, opposite him was Knox sipping lazily on his drink.

"You good son?"

"Yeah. That's the second time you've asked me that"

"You're not yourself tonight, repelling the girls, you're not even drinking"

"I'm just feeling tired"

"Okay. You can rest. Tomorrow we have a bunch of meetings to attend. For this month we will be keeping a low profile. In the meantime, ensure our inside guy at the FCPD gets his cut"

"How much?" Knox asked counting the bills sprawled on the glass table.

"A hundred, the balance after two weeks"

"Okay" he packed the money in one of the bags he pulled from behind the couch, took a flash of his drink, "Goodnight"

"Kid, keep your head straight and wake up tomorrow feeling like yourself. Call one of your bimbos to keep you company tonight"

"I'm good"

"I insist as a matter of fact" he turned to the two girls who were massaging him from behind the couch, "Take care of him will you"

"Seriously..."

"You don't refuse a gift from me"

There was no point in arguing, he handed the bag to one of the girls the other one put a coat around his shoulders and he left sandwiched between the two of them. The day was coming to an end at two in the morning. They walked him to his car, a Mercedes Benz GLE C350 SUV. The bag of money was put at the back and they jumped in.

"You guys ready for an after-party? Buckle up!"

Knox drove fast through the calm city, lit up with street lights and neon signs, clear roads, and a dark skyline. His house was a few minutes from the CBD in one of the posh estates known to harbor the effluent. Classic works of architecture hiding behind well-manicured lawns, well-lit one would have confused the night with daytime. The wrought-iron gates to his manor opened and he drove to the parking lot. Tucked between the two ladies he walked into his lonely mansion, he never made it to the bedroom. Zonked and drunk, the three of them fell asleep side by side right in the middle of the living room. That was the life of Knox, a life of Riley. Why on earth then did he desire to change?