I knew it would happen.

You do something foolish once, and get away with it, and people expect you to do it again. It was a miracle it worked at all in the first place. It doesn’t matter all the little things that made it work—the quirks of fate, the quick thoughts, and fast hands.

All they know is you did it before. you can do it again.

Right?

Well. I did.

Walked right out that door and at the first yell, slipped into the dark, dragging that blasted box the whole way.

Doesn’t matter we got what we wanted out of it.

Doesnt matter that we dealt a blow to the drug dealers, to the people hurting our man.

No. All they care about is the greed. that golden glint in their eyes.

Not even for riches they ever managed but for the riches they might.

Worst part is.

The story will spread.

You’ve done it twice? you can do it again.

Right?