The Wrong Idea, page 5
“Hurry up, but don’t look at your tattoo yet,” Odin commanded.
Zeus lifted his green gaze to me. “That was…” He kissed me and drew the warm cloth over my crotch. “Completely and totally sating. One of the most freaking sating experiences I’ve ever had.”
“Sating doesn’t even cover it,” I said.
“Too true.” He cast the cloth aside and knelt by my feet, undoing the belt and the tie. His fingers seemed to tremble as they grazed the top of the piece of plastic wrap Odin had put on my tattoo to protect it.
He undid the belts and scarves. Then he lifted his gaze to me, and my breath caught at the emotion on his face.
What had struck such emotion into him? What was different?
Then I realized: it was the tattoo.
The tattoo meant big things to Zeus, maybe to all three of my guys. Like we were in a gangster marriage. So sweet.
The fluidity with which they moved between tough-guy criminals and lost boys sometimes shocked me, but I loved it.
A lot.
And I loved how emotional they could become.
I slid to the edge and pulled him to me, held his head against my stomach. I loved everything about these guys. I needed them in a way I couldn’t describe.
Odin and Thor sat over at the dining table in their hotel robes. Had they been in the hot tub? How long had Zeus and I been fucking?
I ruffled Zeus’s hair, then I grabbed my own robe off the couch. As a gang, we were heavy into wearing the hotel robes. In fact, the plushness of hotel robes seemed to be one of the criteria by which they evaluated fancy hotels. My bank robbers had a kind of overheated lifestyle. They pulled big jobs and then blew all the money on outrageously priced suites in outrageously priced hotels—and fabulous room service meals, too.
No complaints here!
Zeus disappeared across the suite into one of the bathrooms that this hotel called a spa. Yes, it was that kind of place.
I stood up, feeling a bit wobbly. “I think I need a health shake or something,” I said.
Thor strolled over with a glass of champagne. “Try some 1990 Perrier Jouët.”
I grinned. “I guess it’ll have to do.” I took the glass from Thor and let him guide me to the table, which was laid out with fruits and cheeses, our favorite evening meal.
Odin stood eyeing me. “I am a genius, you know.” He swigged a glass of scotch.
“We know,” Thor said.
“A tattoo under those conditions?” he said. “Nearly impossible.”
“I was doing great!” I protested.
“Debatable,” Odin said, raising an eyebrow. “To imagine that a girl who so longs for the feel of a man’s firm hand on her ass could be such a baby.”
“Stop it!” I laughed. “God!”
“Stop teasing Isis.” Thor draped himself over a chair, one arm over the back, one leg over the armrest. He reached over and grabbed the grapes and held them above his upturned face, feeding himself, looking every inch the decadent god.
“This is excellent gouda,” Odin said. “I believe even the cheesehead farmer would agree.” His tone was joking, but something was bugging him, I could tell.
I grabbed a slice and tried it. The gouda sparked with flavor. “Pretty good. Almost as good as Sunny Sisters sheep gouda. But not quite.”
Odin smiled. He liked that. He was all about the boasting.
I gazed out the window, scanning the beach. Way down to the left you could see the Santa Monica pier, and beyond it, an impossibly blue ocean under a fiery sunset. It made me dizzy that this view was something I was seeing in real life, and not a postcard.
I wished my sisters could see it—none of us had ever been out of Wisconsin before.
And I couldn’t go home again.
It was still hard to get used to.
I said a silent prayer that they understood I was still alive. Surely they suspected it would be me purchasing the twenty-thousand-dollar comforters our sheep farm sold—the Paris Hilton comforter, we called it. It was a joke product my sisters and I put on the website for our sheep farm, like a lottery ticket. We’d dreamed of Paris Hilton googling herself one day, finding it, and buying one for herself and her dog. She never did, but buying those wildly over-priced quilts for people was really coming in handy as a way to funnel them money. Once upon a time I'd included a note with my purchase of one of the comforters; the note made reference to an inside joke my sisters and I had. It was a way of tipping them off that I was still okay, but that was before I’d faked my death.
I gazed out at the palms and the sea. Everything was wild and beautiful in this life. Intoxicating.
And dangerous.
Odin took one look at me and knew. He always did. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
“Nothing,” I said.
“Is it the First West job?” he asked, ignoring my question. “Don’t worry about the First West. It’s going to be a cakewalk.”
“It’s a bank, not a tree fort,” I said.
“The First West is the loosest bank we ever saw,” Odin said. “We could do it in our sleep even if I didn’t hack their security system.” We planned to hit it in two days. I would be the driver.
“Yes, I’m nervous for the First West, but it’s not that. Maybe I’m just…I don’t know.”
“Do I have to get it out of you?” Odin’s eyes glittered. “I can be persuasive.”
“It’s just that, things are good. Does that ever spook you? And what were you saying about running out of money?”
“Hey,” Zeus said, coming over, tightening his robe belt. “This is a good day. We’re here now. Together. With nothing to want for.” He slapped the table. “Over here, you guys. Feet. Up.”
He put his left foot up on the table, tilted to the side, so you could see his tattoo. Odin and Zeus went up next to him and put their feet up, and then I put mine on the very end, making a row of feet—my small and lovely foot and three large man-feet that could defo use some pedicure action, but we had matching tattoos.
Shivers went over me as I examined my gorgeous tattoo under the protective cellophane wrap. The top of the tattoo was a cloud with big, soulful eyes, brows raised up in fury, lips blowing wind, with four slim, perfectly matched, badass lightning bolts shooting fiercely downward. We were the four lightning bolts, striking out.
It touched me in a way I could never explain, seeing all our tattooed ankles together. Maybe we were a little bit doomed, but wasn’t everybody? And anyway, we were together. Forever.
“It’s the most beautiful thing ever,” I said.
“You’re the most beautiful thing ever,” Thor said.
“Group hug!” I joked, acting all sarcastic to hide that I wanted to cry.
“I have a better idea. Let’s go out and celebrate! We’re in LA, baby!” Zeus drained his scotch and threw the glass at the fireplace mantel, where it shattered.
I jumped.
“Jesus, Zeus, that’s Waterford crystal.” Thor tended to know things like that. He’d been a doctor before he got mixed up with Odin and Zeus.
“They’ll put it on our bill,” he said. “Throw your glasses.”
“We are running out of money,” Odin said.
“We won’t be the day after tomorrow,” Zeus said. “In fact, I’m getting bored with these small potatoes banks. I say we knock off something big next month. I say we start thinking about the Prime Royale.”
“The Prime Royale First Bank of LA?” Odin barked. “Are you insane?”
“Then they’ll really wish we were dead. Actually, that would be a good motto for us.” Zeus put up his hands, as if to frame the motto in the air— “You WISH we were dead. Like, you wish we were dead but we’re not, motherfuckers. Thor, what is that in Latin?”
“E mords…something,” Thor said.
Zeus frowned. “Better if it’s in English.” He turned to Odin. “We should add that to the tattoo, on a scroll above the cloud.”
“On a banner that angels hold,” Odin said.
“Yeah, angels hold it,” Zeus said. “You WISH we were dead, motherfuckers. That’s what it should say.”
“Hold the presses.” I put up a hand. “Did you just suggest we add another massively intricate element to that tattoo? Did I just hear you say that?”
“Or maybe it could be a whole new tattoo,” Thor said.
Zeus glowered at me. “You enjoyed getting a tattoo, Ice.”
“Nobody robs the Prime Royale bank of LA,” Odin said.
“That’s exactly why we should rob it.” Zeus wiped a hand over his mouth. “But first we have to celebrate. I say we hit Guvvey’s. She barely met anyone last time. This time we’ll officially introduce her to the crème de la crème.”
I smiled. The criminal crème de la crème!
“We ditched our suits when we changed hotels,” Thor said. “We’d need suits for Guvvey’s,” Thor said. “Why not sneak by the hideout and grab the ones that are there?”
Zeus shook his head. “We can’t go back there until Manning’s done sweeping and monitoring it. Our enemies came too close. We’ll hit the hideout after we know it’s clean. Only after it’s clean. Tonight maybe.”
“I’m good with that,” I said. “Better safe than sorry.”
Odin watched Zeus closely. I could tell Odin had unsaid objections.
“What? Our enemies came too close,” Zeus barked at Odin. “We can’t wreak vengeance against those who wronged us if we’re dead. We let Manning do his job, ensure it’s clean.”
“I’m not talking about the hideout; I’m talking about the Prime Royale. You seriously want us to knock over the Prime Royale?” Odin demanded. “How is that not a death wish?”
“Because we’re awesome at robbing banks,” Zeus said, “that’s how.”
Thor and Odin seemed suddenly interested in the design details of our hotel room. I wondered what they were thinking. Our little group was a democracy when it came to hotels and restaurants, but we were an army when it came to criminal activity, and Zeus was the commander in chief. Were they feeling unhappy about the idea of robbing the Prime Royale? Why? What was different about the Prime Royale?
“I want to make another safety sweep of the hotel,” Thor said. “Let me take Ice to check out the atrium.”
Zeus nodded. “Good idea.”
I threw on some clothes. My guys had gotten concerned about picking up tails lately. The enemy was getting smarter. We couldn’t rest just because I was fake dead.
Five minutes later, Thor and I were strolling off the tenth-floor elevator. This was one of those hotels where rooms looked out over an interior courtyard. You couldn’t see that much from this high up…unless you were a super high-functioning criminal who had glasses with a small scope attached to them.
I leaned over the railing next to Thor, who was discreetly adjusting the magnification while he examined the people lounging around below. I was giving him cover, making this look like a romantic liaison instead of a spying liaison.
A giant plastic dolphin was suspended from the atrium ceiling, apparently in mid-jump, just hanging there over a reflecting pool far down below.
“Every time I come out here, I just itch to shoot the chain and send that dolphin into that pool down there,” Thor said.
I smiled. “And let him complete his jump?”
“I’m not joking. I really want to.”
I turned my gaze to Thor. “Like, really?”
“Yesterday I brought my piece out here. With a silencer.”
My heart pounded. “Thor.”
“It’s not like it would hit anyone,” he said. “It would just fall in the pool.”
“There are other problems with shooting down a massive dolphin sculpture than whether it hits people or not.”
“I just wanted to release him. Give him a little resolution.” He sounded weary.
“But you wouldn’t really do it, right?” I said.
After a bit too much hesitation, he said, “No. It’s just, you know, it’s always this. Mid-jump. He’s trapped.”
“It’s just art,” I said.
Thor said nothing.
The conversation worried me.
I sometimes felt Thor straining at the bonds of this life. Always on the run, taking chances. I thought about a certain experience that might be called the orgasm-while-weaving-around-in-traffic-in-front-of-a-traffic-cop incident, which Thor recklessly incited.
Did he want to get caught? Did he want to bring things to a close? A life of crime can be hard on people. My guys had been frank about that.
I’d had a difficult time deciding if I should say anything to Zeus about Thor’s recklessness that day in the car with the cops and the orgasm. I didn’t want to seem like a tattler.
And really, taking dangerous chances with the cops? Did that qualify as a problem in this new world? Flaunting the law was practically in the bank robber job description—right under “ability to effectively communicate hold-up demands” and “outstanding multitasking skills while wearing a mask.”
I’d asked Zeus about it in principle a while back—if there were things members should alert each other on.
Like things with Thor? he’d asked me.
Things with anyone, I’d said diplomatically.
Zeus had seen right through me. I’m well aware of where Thor is at, he’d said. I’ll figure something out.
“Imagine seeing it drop into that pool,” Thor said, interrupting my train of thought. “Not like anybody would know it was us. They’d think it broke.”
“You shouldn’t shoot down giant sculptures,” I said. “I think that’s a rule we could all agree on.”
“That’s why I want to do it,” he whispered. “Because I shouldn’t.” It was almost a confession.
It was then that I noticed he had his gun out.
“Put that away!” I said.
Thor grinned. “C’mon. It’ll be such a spectacle.”
“You can’t,” I said.
“I need to,” Thor said.
“You don’t need to do that, Thor,” I said. “Tell me what you really need.”
He just fingered the trigger.
I grabbed his chin and turned his face to me, staring into his blue eyes. “What do you need?” I asked, noting the weariness I saw there. Or was it sorrow?
“Fine.” Thor shoved the gun into his pants. “Come on.”
We continued on with the second half of the sweep, which involved a spin by the front desk and a stroll through the lower lounge.
Had he really been about to shoot that thing down? Did he want me to stop him? Or did he want me to watch?
I felt so worried. What did he need? He was so smart. Was he not being challenged? Was that the problem?
Zeus and Odin were still lounging in bathrobes when we got back to the hotel room.
“Isis needs a better gown for Guvvey’s, this time,” Thor announced. “She deserves to go out there in style this time.”
“Take six large out of the case,” Zeus said to Thor. “You and Isis, handle it.”
“Six is all we have left,” Thor said.
“Let’s blow it all tonight, then!” Zeus said. “Fuck it!”
“You better not buy me any fashion boy outfits,” Odin said.
“We’re getting you a double-breasted fancy suit and aviator glasses,” I teased.
“That settles it. I’m going with you,” Odin said.
“What the hell, we’ll all go shopping,” Zeus said.
I felt relieved. I wasn’t eager to go shopping with Thor alone, what with the reckless mood he seemed to be in.
“We go shopping and out to dinner at Guvvey’s,” Zeus announced. “It’ll be like our first proper date. As a group.” He pointed at all of us, one after another, and growled, “It’ll be a romantic date with no fucking until afterwards. Got it? Because the four of us are like a couple. And that’s final. We are going to have a proper date.”
“You are so romantic.” I said it like I was joking, but it touched me that Zeus wanted the four of us to have a proper romantic date.
Thor turned to me and said, in his gravelly dirty-talk voice, “Then, after our romantic date, we will use your body mercilessly for our own gratification. We’ll tie you up so that you’re helpless, and then fuck you like a whore.”
“Hmm,” I said jokingly, as if his words didn’t send a jolt of desire into my core.
Odin came over and drew a finger up my neck, stopping at the point below my chin. He tilted up my head, forcing me to stare into his eyes and at the bruise covering his cheekbone. “Is something-g amusing?” he asked me.
I swallowed. “No.”
He came closer, invading my space. I was feeling wild. I wanted to kiss him on the badass bruise.
“No, I think you are amused, Ice,” Odin said. “Do you think we use you like a whore for your fucking-g amusement?”
I swallowed, enjoying the feeling of being off-balance by his unpredictability. “No, Odin,” I said smoothly. “I don’t think you do it for my gamusement, no.”
Something flared in his eyes. “Oh, Isis.” He grabbed my wrists, squeezed. My heart sped. “That is what a naughty goddess says.” He walked me backwards until I hit the wall. He pressed me there, panting, looking strangely alive. “Bring me the case with the paddle,” he called.
My pulse raced. “The paddle?” He’d only ever spanked me with his hand.
“You think this is for your fucking-g amusement. It is not.”
My heart pounded. Odin always pushed it. He understood me in a way that Zeus and Thor didn’t. He understood that thrills and danger called to me.
He lowered his voice. “You will take your punishment, and it will not be easy.”
“Jesus,” Zeus said. “Are we ever getting out of this hotel room or not?”
“I’ll get the case,” Thor said.
My insides turned to jelly. Odin nuzzled my cheek with his sandpapery whiskers, and I reveled in it. I felt completely receptive to him, totally at his mercy.
“You will take it, Isis.” He latched on to my earlobe with his teeth, and I melted. My nipples rubbed against the inside of my robe, still incredibly sensitive.
“I didn’t technically disobey,” I managed to whisper.
He said, “Not technically. But you did, Isis.”
