She turns to leave, acting as if nothing just happened between us.
“Jocelyn,” my voice is harsh as I say her name, and as I expected, she halts. A skill I have perfected. I can control people as easily with my voice as I can with my fists.
I slowly walk to her, and I can feel the anxiety dripping off of her in thin droplets. Her body doesn’t show any outward hint of worry, but I can smell the panic as it festers inside her.
I stand in front of her, and she continues to hold her head high. She won’t show weakness. She won’t show fear.
I shouldn’t do this. I should just let her have what she took. I should be kind. It could be the difference between her eating another good meal and withering away into nothing. But I’m not kind; I’m heartless. And I don’t tolerate thievery.
I hold out my hand and look down at her with displeasure. I don’t have to say a word. She knows what she did.
She reaches into her back pocket and places the thick leather wallet into my hand.
I grin. “Good girl.”
Her eyes meet mine, and for a second I think I see something more. Something like winning in her gaze. But she didn’t win, I did.
“Thank you for lunch,” she says. And then she’s gone before I can respond or stop her from running out without paying her bill.
I smirk at my thick wallet and glance at the bar. She didn’t steal from me or the bar by not paying for her food and drinks. She thought she won by stealing three beers, a burger, and fries from me. But I won’t be paying her bill.
I never pay my own. That’s why Zeke and Langston are here. Not that I can’t afford to pay for something so inexpensive. But why should I pay? I own everything in this town. I shouldn’t have to pay myself for something I take.
I walk back to the booth in the corner and take my seat.
“You let some pussy almost steal from you?” Langston says, smirking.
I glare, and the smile leaves his face. He hides behind his drink that Lana, our waiter, must have brought him while I was entertained by the girl.
“No one steals from me.”
They both nod. They know the consequences if someone stole from me.
“She your whore now? Or can I have a taste of her?” Zeke asks.
I lean back in the booth and drape my arm over the back. I don’t want either of them going after Jocelyn. She’s mine, even if I never get to touch her.
“I think you have too much work to do to be chasing pussy,” I say.
Zeke huffs but doesn’t push the subject. Lana drops off the bill that I know covers our drinks in addition to Jocelyn’s tab. Langston places his credit card on the bill without looking. He knows better than to balk at paying. It’s why I pay him so well. Even though my family owns the bar and I don’t have to pay, it’s a way for my friends to show loyalty to me by covering our drinks.
“What time are you meeting your father?”
“Three.”
I glance at my watch and freeze.
Instead of the shiny silver face of my Rolex staring back at me, I see the faint tan line of where the watch used to sit.
I smirk.
I may be the devil, but Jocelyn is a thief. She left this bar knowing she had won. She never had any intention to steal my wallet. She wouldn’t have gotten much from my wallet anyway. There is nothing more than a couple hundred dollar bills tucked in its depths along with credit cards I would have been canceled before she could use them and would only leave a trail for me to find her.
Instead, she stole the one thing of real value on my body. The watch is worth over ten grand.
Round one goes to the thief, but the devil only ever gets deceived once. Jocelyn has no idea who she stole from. But soon, I’ll make sure she never forgets.
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