Thief: The Scarab Beetle Series: #1 (The Academy) by C. L. Stone Page B

asked.
    Raven lifted his arm, reaching across my shoulders and leaning into me to ruffle his fingers through Marc’s hair. “Come on, pretty boy. Give the girl the boot already.”
    Marc waved Raven off. “Stop it.”
    “You’ve got to cut this off,” I said. “Clingers stay for as long as you talk to them.”
    “I didn’t want to hurt her feelings,” Marc said. “She’s a sweet girl, but she’s a pain in the ass. Calling all the time to see where I’m at. She’s always claiming someone’s hurting her and she needs to be saved. She’s kind of crazy.”
    “Is that your type? Sweet and crazy?” I asked.
    Marc pulled a face but didn’t respond.
    I could sympathize with him. I once dated a guy who tried to cut himself to get me to come over. Those types start out really sweet, but end up being psycho when you try to get rid of them. “Here,” I said. I typed in a response and sent it.
    Marc frowned. “What did you do?” He snagged the phone out of my hand, checking the message.
    “I just told her you’re out on a date.”
    “What? I told her I was at work.”
    “A date will make her mad.”
    “I don’t want her mad.”
    “Mad is good,” I said. “If you want a girl to go away, you’ve got to piss her off.”
    Marc stopped at a red light and turned his head to me. “Is that how you treat people? You must be a fucking barrel of peaches to your boyfriend.”
    “Yup. I tell him where to go and he goes,” I fibbed. Ha. Boyfriend.
    Marc squinted at me. “Holy shit. You’re single.”
    “Aw,” Raven said. He planted a palm on my head and massaged my scalp. “Little thief, don’t worry about it. I’ve got you now.”
    I reached out, popping him on the chest with a loose fist. “Stop touching me.”
    He hooted, laughed and dropped his hand from my head and rubbed at the spot where I’d hit him. “I like it. Feisty.”
    “Back off, Raven,” Marc said.
    “You make the claim or she’s fair game.”
    I waved off Raven and pointed to Marc’s phone. "Why don't you just tell her you didn't like her."
    He sighed. "It's not that easy. I feel horrible. I mean she felt so strong about it that I was wondering why I didn't feel anything at all. I thought something was wrong with me. She's pretty and she's sweet. Isn't there supposed to be a spark or wiggly feelings or something?"
    "You were waiting on wiggly sparks?"
    He brushed a palm across his face. "Forget it. Why am I telling you all this? I don't even know you." He shook his head. "Anyway, I guess it doesn't matter now."
    “She may be mad for now, but she may try to weasel back. If she comes back, you'll have to be mean. You can't backtrack or she'll keep doing this."
    He sighed heavily enough that his broad shoulders lifted and fell. "I don't know if I can do that to a girl."
    "You do a pretty good job making me mad. What’s the difference?"
    He made a face. "I think you barely qualify as a girl."
    I harrumphed.
    He waved his hand in front of himself. "I don't mean it in a bad way. Don't take things so seriously."
    "We'll see if you feel the same way when I start calling you Mary instead of Marc."
    He smirked and karate chopped me in the corner of my neck and shoulder, causing me to cringe. "Shut up."
    I grunted, running my fingers through my hair to get it out of my eyes. “Can’t we just get this over with so I can say no and go home?”
    “Almost there,” Marc said.
    Marc pulled into a parking lot of a tall, dull brick building on the southern edge of the Charleston peninsula, really close to the river and the bay. I’d been by the place a few times, but never really took a good look at it. It appeared to be an office tower, so it wasn’t interesting to me before. “What’s this? Is this where you work?”
    “This is home,” he said. “Welcome to the Sergeant Jasper.”
    “It’s an apartment building?” I asked. It appeared so plain from the highway. Weren’t apartments a little nicer looking? Like with gardens and