Chapter Text
For the first time in his life, Kelly fervently, adamantly hoped heaven was a lie.
If it wasn’t, that meant his parents were there. If his parents were there, that meant they were watching him. If they were watching him right now, Kelly might as well put the gun he held to his temple and end it now because it’d feel about the same as his parents’ disappointment.
But what else was he supposed to do? The first two foster homes had been okay but this last one? No food most nights, bad food all the other times. No heat in the basement where the kids slept even though it was winter and fucking freezing in Boston. Kelly put up with all of it until the night the guy had punched Kelly and then tried to push him backwards down the basement stairs. Kelly shuddered and stuffed the memories down.
After that, he ran. And he took the three younger ones with him. It had been necessary, but at the same time Kelly knew it hadn’t been his smartest move ever. The cash he’d stolen from the house lasted them a few weeks but now they were on the streets, starving, freezing, and at wits end. So when Kelly found a loaded gun abandoned in an alley near the foreclosed house he and the others were squatting in, he knew what he would have to do.
It had taken him a few days to pick a target, but then he noticed the corner store a couple miles away from the where he and the kids had been staying didn’t have a security camera anywhere. He paid closer attention then and worked out the employee’s schedule. There were six guys on rotation 24-hours a day. During the day they worked in pairs but at night, only between 3 and 5 am, only one employee remained inside. Customers came and went at all hours, but almost no one showed up in that pre-dawn stretch. Kelly reversed his sleep schedule for a solid week, watching the store all night to make sure he was right. And maybe, possibly stalling as he tried to figure something else out. Anything else. By the end of that week he was out of time and knew he had to move forward.
He almost threw all of his plans out the window when a new guy showed up for the shift that night. A redheaded guy, tall and well-muscled and, apparently, the quiet type. The guy he relieved stood at the counter talking to the redhead for over an hour and Kelly saw the guy utter two sentences the whole time. Three tops. Even though the guy on the previous shift looked older, the redhead felt more mature. Like he was the one in charge and not the other way around. The switch and his appearance at the store—I mean, come on; how evil would it be to rob someone on their first night?—it almost made Kelly back off. But the kids needed coats and boots and food.
Gritting his teeth, Kelly pulled his hood over his hair, wrapped his scarf around most of his face, and jogged into the store. As soon as he stepped inside, he pulled the gun out of the pocket of his hoodie and aimed it at the clerk.
“I think you know what I want you to do. Find a bag, put all the money you have back there inside, and please avoid calling the cops or I’ll shoot you.”
The guy behind the counter stared at the gun for a second, like he had to double check to make sure he was seeing it right, before he met Kelly’s eyes and raised his eyebrows. “Are you shittin’ me, kid?”
Kelly flicked the safety with his thumbnail. “Does it seem like I am?”
“Do you even know where you are?”
“What kind of question is that? I’m not asking you to perform Swan Lake, I want the fucking money! Of course I know where I am!”
Green eyes narrowed across the counter. “You don’t. You really, reallydon’t. Walk away now, son, because the kind of hurt that will rain down on you if I do what you ask will be catastrophic.”
Kelly laughed, the sound so harsh and hysterical it actually hurt. “Won’t be any different from any other day of my life, man. Now shut up and give me the cash.”
“Do you even know how to shoot that thing?”
You didn’t grow up hunting in Colorado and not know how to handle a weapon. Quickly, Kelly fired twice, once over each of the redhead’s shoulders. The cashier barely flinched and that rattled Kelly more than anything else that had happened so far tonight. Did he have nerves of steel or was this guy that accustomed to people shooting at him?
Keeping his voice steady and his shame out of his eyes, Kelly gave him one last warning. “Next one goes into your shoulder instead of over it.”
“Did someone put you up to this?” The guy asked the question even as he grabbed a small black duffle bag from behind the counter and opened the register. “If you’re a patsy for Novikov, I can get you out of it.”
Kelly huffed and shook his head, keeping his eyes on the cashier. “Unless you got a time machine hiding back there, nothing you can do will fix my life.”
Brilliant green eyes locked on to Kelly’s. His heart stuttered. There was no fear in this guy’s gaze. Curiosity. Empathy. Confusion. All of that, sure, but no fear. And no recrimination either. Even though Kelly knew this guy couldn’t possibly even get a clear look at his face, Kelly felt like he sawhim. It was like this guy could strip away the clothes and the lies and the situation and somehow find Kelly underneath all of it. Like he understood.
Kelly needed to leave. Now.
“Zip it up and toss it over.”
The redhead zipped the bag and picked it up. It looked a lot heavier than Kelly had expected. “Last chance, kid. Walk away now and I’ll pretend this never happened.”
Dammit. That’s all Kelly wanted to do—put the gun down, walk out of here, and forget this night happened. But…
“I can’t.” The words escaped in an agonized whisper that Kelly couldn’t seem to stop. Apparently it was loud enough for the cashier to hear.
Sighing, the redhead tossed the bag and Kelly stepped back to let it land at his feet instead of risking an accidental discharge of the gun. Keeping his eyes on the redhead, Kelly grabbed the strap of the bag and picked it up. Shit this was heavy. Way heavier than he’d expected. What did the guy have in here before he tossed the cash in, rocks? Whatever the reason for the extra weight, Kelly couldn’t check it out here. He had to leave before the cops showed up. There may not be a camera in the building, but Kelly wasn’t an idiot. There had to be a silent security system of some sort.
He backed quickly toward the door, shoving it open with his shoulder to keep his eyes and the gun on the cashier. He’d barely cracked the door when the guy said, “Hey. My name’s Nick O’Flaherty. When the shit starts hitting the fan, come find me.”
“I won’t be around long enough for it to matter, Nick.”
All he needed was enough to get himself and the kids on a bus south to where one of them had a friend who would help. Where he didn’t have to worry about dying of frostbite while he slept. Somewhere far away from the memories of foster care and homelessness and what he’d done tonight to protect his foster siblings.
Using back alleys and shortcuts, Kelly made it back to the abandoned house. It was on the edge of a development and backed up to a small park, so Kelly and the kids had made a habit of coming and going through the back rather than the front to avoid attracting attention. They also stayed almost entirely in the basement where the few small windows that existed had been boarded up.
Before he crossed into the yard, Kelly knelt in a patch of moonlight and unzipped the duffle bag with trembling fingers. On top of the bag was some loose cash and coins, a couple hundred dollars if Kelly guessed right. Enough for the bus tickets and a couple of really cheap meals. It was what Kelly saw below those tens and twenties that made his blood run cold.
Stacks of twenties and hundreds, all of them bound with bank bands. There was way too much money here for a corner store. Hell, there was way too much money here for a bank!
Kelly remembered Nick’s warning, his dire threats of catastrophe if Kelly went through with the robbery. Looking down at this bag, Kelly began to suspect that the redhead hadn’t even been close to exaggerating.
Oh, shit. Who the fuck had he just robbed?