The pickpocket and the billionaire

Chapter 1 - Part 2

1 - part 2

“You wouldn’t happen to want to pretend that I hit you and escaped?” I suggested hopefully.

“I’m Mr Holt’s bodyguard and head of security, miss. That would get me fired.” Gordon replied stonily, but I caught the twitch of the corner of his mouth. I assumed Mr Holt was the man I just tried and failed to steal from.

“Alright then. Bring me to the slaughterhouse.” I begrudgingly let out.

“I’m sure it won’t be that bad, miss.” He said in what I hoped was an attempt to reassure me, but then he added: “And besides, you did this to yourself.”

“That’s what they always say.” I grumbled, making him chuckle. He started leading me away.

“Sounds like you know how to get yourself in trouble.” He commented dryly.

“Yeah, if only I knew how to get out of it.” I suggestively replied, while looking up at him innocently. At this, he laughed out loud. He started pulling me forward gently, making me groan in pain. Gordon immediately stopped and placed his hand on my shoulder comfortingly.

“You okay?” He asked with concern in his voice. I bent over a little to lessen the pain in my midsection and nodded firmly, refusing to come off as weak. He sighed. “Come on.” And with that he slid his one arm around my back and the other behind my legs and he picked me up. I let out a small gasp of pain, but I’m sure Gordon didn’t even notice. As he carried me to god knows where, I decided to take the time to study him. The guy looked to be in his mid-forties, had blue eyes and a burr haircut. He seemed to be very well in shape too for such an old man – no offence to old people. There was this small twist in his nose that made me think it had been broken more than only once.

Strong Gordon somehow shifted me so he could hold me up with one arm while he opened the car door to the backseat of this freaking fancy town car with his other hand. He placed me in the car so gently that for a moment I felt like a porcelain doll and even considered dating an older man – a very much older man.

“So Gordon,” I started when he got in the car behind the wheel, “are you married? Cause I’m still single and searching.” My ears met with his hearty laugh, which painted a smile on my face instantly.

“Although I feel a little too old for you, no, I’m not married.” He said with humour in his voice. He glanced at me through the rear-view mirror.

“So what do you say, old man? Want to give it a try?” I joked. He threw his head back against the seat and laughed again. From there on, we drove in silence for about ten minutes and although I was curious as to where we were going, I didn’t ask. Instead I sat back and watched the city I’ve become so familiar with pass by. As I was sitting in the car and doing nothing, tiredness struck, making known how many sleep I have been missing out on the past few years. I’d gotten used to it and you rarely heard me complain about it, but life on the streets didn’t exactly give you a good night sleep. I refused to fall asleep, forced my suddenly heavy eyelids to stay open and concentrated on my surroundings.

It wasn’t long before we entered the more rich parts of Willow Grove, past the few suburban areas that surrounded the city centre, where the villas and mansions stood proudly and mockingly. My kind of people never comes here, because these houses are well secured and we don’t mess with people who have influence – too risky. All of my sleepiness disappeared as snow in the sun when the car slowed down and Gordon put on the turn signal and turned left. He drove up to a big fence, making me gulp as I saw the large estate. The drive from the fence to the mansion that stood behind it alone already took freaking five minutes. By car. And all the while I was staring at my surroundings with widened eyes and my jaw was resting comfortably against the foot mat.