Lighting a Match in the Rain

Chapter Twenty-Seven

            The drive was quick. I slowed the car to a stop a couple of houses away, inside the shadow of the street lights, under a large pine tree. "What would your parents say about this?" I asked him, tilting my head and showing a sly grin. "Roping an innocent girl to do all your messy jobs with you?"

Reed smiled. "Well, this innocent girl you speak of, volunteered her assisting hand," he reminded me. "So, they can't exactly blame me..." he glanced right down the street, to the house that he was about to head toward. "I shouldn't be longer than five minutes. If I'm any longer than that, I've likely been caught and the cops are already on their way."

I nodded once, pressing my lips together. "Got it."

Sighing, he got out of the car, pulled out his cellphone, and tossed it into the passenger's seat. "Wish me luck."

"See you in jail." I smirked so he knew I was joking, but instead of slapping back a snarky comment, he just shook his head and muttered something illegible under his breath before he pulled his hood over his head and walked down the sidewalk.

At least I wasn't part of the action, right? Like if we got caught, I'd get in less trouble, right? All I did was drive the car. That's literally it. At least, that was my plan, anyway. That was, until the five-minute mark hit and Reed hadn't returned. I started to slightly panic but comforted myself with a list of possible explanations. 

Once the ten-minute mark passed, I already had a plan. Should I have just put the car in drive and left him? Probably. That's what he said he'd do to me if the roles were reversed, but honestly, seeing this kid thrown in jail wasn't something I wanted to witness. And that's exactly why I got out of the car, leaving the keys in the ignition, and followed his invisible footsteps down the sidewalk.

My anxiety weighed down a little more once I shed the concealing blanket of the shadows and stepped out under the shining street lights. Taking a deep breath and crossing my arms over my chest, I stopped in front of the little one-story house. Nailed into the side of the white-picket-fence was a "no-trespassing" sign. So much for that. I glanced around the street and then into the windows of the little house to make sure no one was watching and then jumped over.

Just as I had seen Reed do, I snuck to the backyard. The back door was wide open, but the screen filter wasn't. Inside, I could an old man standing in the kitchen, messing with something out of my sight on the counter. Slight movement directed my sight to the kitchen island where Reed was crouching out of the man's line of vision. The fabric bag in his hand seemed to be weighed down with stuff in it, so I knew he got at least some of what he came for. His exit had to be this door, but there was no way he could get by without the man seeing him.

Weighing my options, I decided to go back around to the front of the house. I found a brick lining the edge of a small flowerbed and tossed it on the wooden front porch. It bounced around, making an indistinguishable ruckus. Hoping the man would investigate, I scrambled out of view and knelt behind a hedge bush at the corner of the house.

Just as I expected, the old light bulb of a porch light flickered on and a moment later, the front door screeched open. He looked around in silence, likely knowing that brick didn't just grow wings of its own and throw itself. "Hello?"

I tried to remain as still as possible, but my heart thumped so loud, I worried that he could hear it too. My anxious thoughts seemed to be true because, at that moment, his footsteps left the porch and crept closer to me. Closing my eyes, I prepared for the moment coming when I was going to get caught and go to jail, or the worst—the man had a gun and would shoot me onsite for trespassing onto his grounds. I wouldn't put it past him.