Among Thieves by David Hosp Page A

time, then let out a bitter laugh. “You?”
    “Me.” He tried to put some conviction in his voice, but he was pretty sure he’d failed.
    She shook her head angrily. “Fine. Don’t that just take the fuckin’ cake? I come all the way up here for a little time with
     him, and the cocksucker don’t even trust me with his kid.”
    “I thought you said—”
    “Fine.” She wasn’t listening. “That’s fine. You takin’ her with you now?”
    “I don’t know,” Finn said. “I guess.”
    “You guess? Great. Just fuckin’ great.” She stamped her foot and turned, slamming the door behind her. “I’ll send her out
     in a couple minutes!” she yelled through the glass.
    Finn was tempted to leave. It was difficult to believe that anything good could come from this, but he’d given his word. Besides,
     he worried about what might become of Devon’s daughter if left with someone as unstable as the woman Devon had apparently
     conned up from Providence to watch her while he was off committing grand theft. He had no choice, he knew, so he waited on
     the front stoop, shifting his feet back and forth.
    It would be all right, he told himself. Devon would be out in a few days, and then this was no longer his problem.

    “I’m Finn,” he said to her at last.
    The girl looked over at him. She hadn’t spoken since she’d walked out of Devon’s apartment, an oversized military duffel slung
     over her back and a look of defiance on her face. She’d marched past Finn straight to his little MG, thrown her bag in the
     back, climbed in, and slammed the car door, staring forward without asking any questions.
    Finn had turned on the stoop and started to follow, then paused and looked back at the woman standing in the doorway.
    “Don’t worry,” the woman said, reading his mind. “I’m on a six o’clock train, and there ain’t a goddamned thing in the fuckin’
     place worth stealing.”
    Finn thought about it for a moment and then continued on, sliding into the driver’s seat beside the young girl.
    The woman cracked the screen door a little and leaned out over the stoop. “You give that bastard a message for me!” she yelled.
     “Tell him not to call me again. Ever! Tell him he can go to hell. Tell him that from Shelly!”
    Finn put his hand up and gave her a grim wave, then threw the car into gear and pulled out.
    The traffic was heavy as he guided the car through Southie and into downtown Boston, headed back to his apartment in Charlestown.
     It had taken ten minutes for him to muster the courage to say anything to the girl in the passenger seat next to him, and
     then all he could think to do was introduce himself. He could feel her staring at him, saying nothing in reply, and it made
     him shift uncomfortably in his seat. His agony was made whole by the fact that he couldn’t remember whether Devon had told
     him the girl’s name. If he had, Finn couldn’t remember what it was.
    She continued to stare at him in silence.
    “And you are…?” he prodded at last, striving unsuccessfully to infuse his voice with some small amount of humor.
    After a moment she looked forward through the windshield again. “Fucked, by the look of things,” she answered.
    Finn winced at her language and the venom in her voice. “No, I meant your name,” he said.
    “I know what you meant.” She lapsed into silence again.
    “I know this is hard,” Finn said. “It’s only for a few days, though. Until your father gets…” He wasn’t sure how to continue.
     “Until he gets back. Did she explain it to you?”
    “Shelly? Yeah. Devon’s in jail. You’re his lawyer. I’m fucked.”
    He took his eyes off the road for long enough to look at her. Devon had said she was fourteen, but she was small and slight
     for her age. Her bangs were cropped across her forehead and she wore a stack of cheap metal bracelets around her wrist that
     jangled as the car crawled over bumps in the road. She looked like a normal kid, but