The Thief!

CHAPTER 1

Ariel

There is always a way out of every situation, my Mom would tell me. She would go on and on about how everything has a loophole, and you just had to look carefully to find it.

Usually, I would agree with her. Lately, it hit me that I had let my mother's philosophy rule my everyday life until things fell apart. 

Then, I decided that no one had the right explanation, philosophy, or theory about what really works in anyone's life. 

So I decided again that everyone should shut up!

"Shut up!" I screamed at Jim Rohn's face on my TV screen and angrily switched it off, throwing the remote away from me.

Jim Rohn had been going on and on about the way one was supposed to live an ideal life. 

What was even an ideal life, anyway?

I didn’t have one yet, and I wasn’t sure how it worked.

Too many motivational quotes from people I was sure found it just as difficult to put their lives together as I did. 

I grabbed the popcorn bowl beside me, threw some in my mouth, and some at the TV screen as if I could still see Rohn’s face on it. 

What I needed right now was to get my life working! To get called at one of the thousands of job interviews I had been going for. 

 Not to sit hopelessly on my set me free, please couch in my usual shorts and pullover, like I did every Friday night for the last two months, listening to depressing talk shows because I couldn't afford to do anything else.

I lost my job two months ago after Ryan, my ex, broke up with me, leaving me a total wreck and making a complete mess of my life.

I had been hopping from one interview in the city to the other, looking for a way out of the town that had become too small for me. 

A way out of the embarrassment I continued to face every time I stepped outside and saw Ryan and his new girlfriend together. 

Presently, I was banned from entering major bars and clubs because I had gotten into fights several times with him and his golden girlfriend.

Naturally, the poor girl did nothing to me, but it was too bad she inherited the anger I had for Ryan. 

After the bastard used and dumped me like I was worth nothing more than two shredded pieces of cloth, there was no way in blazes I could let him live happily and enjoy any other relationship.

Just no way! Or perhaps until I got something better to do with my life.

Ryan was part of the reason I was curled up in my mini-condo on a Friday night, being miserable while the rest of Woodstock was out having a swell time. 

He was 'part' of the reason. But the other reason, the major reason, was that I was broke, jobless, and probably soon to be homeless once my rent expired. 

I spent what little savings I had already on trips to the city and paying for broken glasses and chairs at the bars where I got into fights.

Now, I couldn't afford to spend a dime, or I would be completely drained, then I would have to call my Dad. 

I threw my legs on the table in front of me. I would be damned first before I call my Dad and ask him for anything. 

The neighborhood was quiet, not entirely unusual, but it was something I didn't think I'd get used to. 

My whole life, I chose whatever I wanted to do and decided wherever I wanted to be, but now, I had no choice but to be stuck at home with literally no one on my side. 

The worst part, I had bills to pay, and if I didn't act fast, I'd be on the streets and crawling back to my Dad while he laughed in my face.

“I hate the universe!” I screamed into the room, and my voice echoed. 

Thud!

There was a loud sound outside. I froze. Becoming very still and quiet; perhaps I only imagined it. 

Crash! What in blazes… there was a shattering sound, and I could swear someone was outside my window, tiptoeing and spying on me. 

Then, it hit me with a rush of adrenaline. A thief! In a flash, I was on my feet and in the kitchen, grabbing the broom and holding it firmly to the side. 

I was scared out of my wits, yet ready to defend myself from the intruder. 

Carefully, I approached the door, my heart racing so fast; whoever was out there was calm now, and all I heard was the usual crickets sound. 

Very slowly, I opened the door and found a man stooped beside my flowerbeds. My first instinct was to hit him, and I didn't hesitate. 

With every ounce of power I could muster, I slung the broom on his back. Hitting him hard and continuously as he struggled to get up from the tight spot he was in. 

“Thief, thief. Get away, you thief!” I cried out. 

The man was up; his strangled and frustrated groan filled the air and mixed with my screams. 

"I'm not a thief. Jesus Christ. Stop hitting me. I am not a thief!" The man screamed back. "I live here."

“Liar! I know everyone living in this neighborhood, and I have never come across your face. What are you hoping to steal, huh? My refrigerator? My money? I don't have any!”

“I am not a thief! Please stop causing a scene.” The man had a refined look about him. But what do you know, looks can be deceiving. 

“A scene?” I chuckled incredulously. “Wait till you see a scene. Get out of here now, or I won’t stop until everyone is out here.”

"I live here. I've nowhere else to go."

“Liar!”

I lunged at him again with my broom and didn’t notice the broken vase on the floor until my right foot landed squarely in the shattered pieces.

The sharp edges cut into my skin, making me squirm. Whimpering painfully, I watched as the man circled the other side. I thought he was getting away and wanted to scream when I saw him walking towards me.

“Get away from me.” 

"I swear, I'm not going to hurt you. That looks bad; let me help you…please." The man stretched his hands toward me; he sounded genuine.  

I was badly hurt; the pain shot from my foot to my brain. My right foot was hanging in the air while the other rested safely on a vase-free side. 

I placed my hand on the wall for support, intending to skip through the shattered pieces on the floor and go back into my room. 

However, I knew there was a high chance of missing a piece on the floor again and getting another cut on my other foot. 

Seeing that my choices were limited recently, it seemed like I couldn't decide whatever went on in my life anymore; I sighed with resignation. 

“If you try anything funny, I won’t hesitate to hit you with this again,” I warned, pointing my broom at him. 

The man started to chuckle; it was a small giggle at first, then when he couldn’t hold it in anymore, it became a burst of full-blown laughter. Disrupting the peace of the night. 

For the first time since the night's catastrophe started, I took a good look at the man in front of me. 

The night light shone brightly on his face. He had a subtle dimple on one cheek that deepened with his laughter. 

When he looked at me again, his luscious blue eyes pierced into me, and for a moment, I was taken aback. It felt like I should remember those eyes, but I couldn’t.

His chiseled jaws gave him an aristocratic look, with his straight and proud nose. His lips, sensually full, complemented his overall appeal. 

My gaze swept him full from top to bottom: he wore a dark pair of pants that hid his legs, but I didn’t need to tell that those legs were like a solid base from the way they were braced apart. 

His broad shoulders spread wide, giving him a fitted look. If this man wanted to hurt me, my broom stood no chance against him.

The man’s chest was sparsely covered in a singlet, revealing bits of his sculpted chest.

God! Why would someone like this come to rob? How bad was the situation in the world?

I sighed, struggling to raise my eyes back to his face; every trace of laughter was gone as if he had never even thought to smile seconds ago.

For a moment, I was lost in the depths of those captivating eyes, and I could feel the swell of my chest and my heart racing tremendously. 

I wasn’t drooling. No, there was no way I was drooling! I shook my head, drawing myself out of the trance this man’s beauty had placed me.

Before I could fully recover, he moved very close to me, picked me up, and kicked my door while carrying me inside. All these happened so fast, and I didn't get a chance to say a word.

When he dumped me on my couch, I recovered from the spell of being held in those brawny arms. 

“Who are you?”

“Where’s your kit?”

We asked at the same time.

“Kit?” I didn’t grasp what he was talking about. 

“First aid kit…?” He spoke, arching one brow.

“Oh… kitchen, second cabinet by the left.” 

He was already moving across the room to the kitchen before I finished talking. The last time a man moved around in my home was six months ago. 

Therefore, it felt strange watching this husky mass of a man go up and down, looking for suitable items to dress my wound with.

When he crouched down to touch my foot, my whole body reacted in unexpected ways. His fingers digging into my skin sent crazy electrical shivers shooting straight to my brain.

Not even Ryan had made my body react that way with just a mere touch. And this man was nothing like Ryan.

Ariel, you’re doing it again. Shut it down!

Thankfully, the small voice in my head was on my safeguard that had kept me from getting hooked to another man since Ryan was on.

“Who are you?” I asked again. “And what are you doing here?”

“I live here. Next door.” 

My jaw dropped. What! No. God, please, no.

"No way, I don't believe you. If you lived here, I'd know." 

He raised his eyes to look at me, and I drowned instantly. Why did those eyes look familiar? Dropping his gaze to my foot again, he cleaned and dumped the towel he used to wipe blood into the bowl beside him. 

“I didn’t say lived, but live!. I just got the place. Brace yourself,” he warned.

I didn’t flinch as he applied the hydrogen peroxide. I’d gone through worse pain. 

He stared at me as if surprised by my resilience. A few minutes later, he was done cleaning and wrapping a bandage around my foot.

He got up and began returning the items to where he got them from. 

"You don't have to bother yourself. I'll place everything where it belongs much later." I offered. Though he just treated my wound, I was still skeptical about this man.

Even though there was something oddly familiar about him, I didn’t like the way I felt with him moving around in my home.

“Didn’t answer my question,” I said, watching him with keen eyes as he leaned on my kitchen table. 

“What question?” 

“Who are you?” 

“Oh, I’ve answered that. I am your neighbor.”

“Don’t you have a name?”

“You haven’t asked for my name.” 

Handsome and arrogant. Just perfect. 

“Take a hint. I just asked…”

The man rolled his eyes, watching me tentatively. As if somehow I was supposed to recognize him without him going through the process of an introduction.

Perhaps he wanted me to do some introduction first. “Fine, my name is Ariel, and I appreciate you treating my foot.” 

He only shrugged.

"You're supposed to tell me your name now; that's how it works." I stared plainly at him.

“Somehow, I feel that’s not really a good idea.” 

“What?” Did he think I was making advances at him? Jeez, did I stare too openly? This man had some nerves. “The only reason I am asking for your name is as a sign of gratitude. Don’t let it get into your head.” I spat angrily.

He crossed his hands on his chest, eyeing me insolently. “Well, you asked for it. I am Lucas. Lucas Donovan.”

Lucas said his name with so much confidence like it was supposed to mean something to me. Only it didn't.

Lucas looked at my face, raising his eyebrows like I was supposed to react to hearing his name. 

“You don’t know who I am, do you?”

I scoffed, looking at the wound he was tending to, “Am I supposed to know who you are?” I paused, “Are you some celebrity who came to hide out in Woodstock?”

Lucas smiled, “No,” he said, “I’m nobody.”