Page 88 of My Heart Still Beats
“So are you in, Black?” Jerry asks.
“No.”
“You sure about that?” From Dirk.
It’s not a threat. I could kick Dirk into next week, and we both know it. It’s a simple question, one he expects me to contemplate.
So I do.
I clear my throat. “What are the details?”
“One a.m. tomorrow night. The place is open twenty-four-seven, but there’s very little traffic that late on a weeknight. The guys and I have been staking the place. Between one and two is the best time.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. I would think between two and four would be better.”
“Yeah, you’d think, but the truckers tend to come through around then.”
I nod. I have no reason not to believe Dirk. He’s been staking the place, and I haven’t.
What I’m more concerned about is how the hell I’m supposed to be up at one in the morning. I’m so fucking tired after a day at school and then working that when I get home, I hit the sheets and don’t think about a damned thing until my alarm rings at six.
And I start the whole process over again.
Get up, grab a bite, hit school, do homework during lunch, get home, grab a bite, hit the construction site, get home, grab a bite, hit the hay.
That’s my damned life.
Granted, I’m sick to death of it, but these guys aren’t thinking big enough. How much cash is there in a damned convenience store? A convenience store that probably has a security system in place because it’s open twenty-four-fucking-seven?
These guys were never known for their smarts.
After all, they said they needed my brains.
“What if we change the plan a little?” I say.
“How so?” Dirk asks.
“How much money do you think they keep in the store?”
“About a grand,” Carlos says. “My cousin works there during the day. He says they keep a thousand in the safe in addition to what’s in the cash register at any given time.”
“Yeah, a thousand dollars is more than any of us have ever seen,” I agree, “but that’s only two fifty each after we divide it. Is it really worth it? I mean, what is two fifty going to buy us? A week of groceries?”
“Or some good weed,” Jerry says.
“Fuck no. If I help with this, not one of you is going to spend this money on drugs.”
“I don’t see how it’s any business of yours of what we spend it on, Black,” Dirk says.
Technically, he’s right.
“If you want my help—and I’ve got a plan way better than yours—no drugs. Got it?”
“What are you thinking?” Carlos asks.
“I’m thinking there are better places to hit than a damned store that never closes. We can hit a place that’s empty in the middle of the night. A place that has a hell of a lot more cash stashed away. I’m talking fifty grand at least, with absolutelynochance of getting caught.”
…
