" Mark, don't worry about me. I'll be okay right here for a few hours. No one is out to kill me," I say, trying to let him know that I can take care o... myself."You ARE coming to the store with me." Don't tell me what I have to do! I can take care of myself! You keep it up, and you won't need to even come back here later tonight!" I say loudly, showing my anger at being ordered around like a child."Okay, okay... I'm sorry... I'm just worried about you is all."I take a deep breath, calming. I pushed in and hit something hard. ‘Shit’ was the reply from the other side of the door. ‘I wonder if my nose is broken.’ I pulled the doors back, only to find my fellow musical chairs partner once again on the ground. ‘What is it with you, whatever your name is? You weren’t satisfied by crashing into me, almost killing me earlier in the day. You decide to finish the job with these doors’ the man said as he was touching and twisting his nose to inspect any damage. No blood was a good sign. I. Let me start at the beginning. My name is Kathryn Bell, and I'm a thief. Well, was a thief? I don't know what I am now. A toy? Or maybe I'm just an example for anyone else who would dare to try and steal from Anthony Belli. In my line of work, everyone knew Belli's name. He was affiliated with organized crime, but too well connected to be arrested by the police. People that were set to testify against him had a habit of vanishing. In short, he's a bad man. And, unfortunately for me, a creative. About six months after he took out the mortgage they had a blazing row and he fucked off leaving her with nothing. It was then that she found out what he had done when the bank repossessed her house leaving her homeless.Since Natasha has two k**s running around all day in a home that is not big enough to swing a cat and a husband who was a layabout she soon found it to overwhelming for her and decided it was time to move on. Both Marie and I had talked it over and decided the best thing for.
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