Incredible Pawn Novels & Stories

I say. Besim looks confused. "You do?" "Yes. You’re a pawn. He wouldn't tell a pawn where the King lives." I step closer. "But pawns see things," I whisper. "They hear things they shouldn’t." I take his left hand and place it flat on the cement floor. "Who bankrolls him?" I ask. "He has money. He’s rich."

I stare at the floor, my hand in my pocket, fingers tracing the bevel of the watch face. The pawn shop is on Vernon Boulevard. High-end pretensions, but the location is gritty. The windows are barred. The interior smells like stale cigarette smoke and old metal. Glass cases are filled with the debris of other people's bad luck—watches, rings, guitars. Other people's sacrifices on display. I approach the counter. A man in his sixties looks up from a ledger. Faded tattoos on his forearms, eyes that have seen every version of a lie. "Help you?"

Jarrold stared, utterly thrown. He hadn't expected me to take the bag. In the past, I'd always refused his gifts, terrified he'd think I was some cheap gold digger. When he finally found his voice, he said, "As long as you like it." I looked down at the purse in my hands—a five-figure masterpiece that screamed old money. The longer I stared, the more I liked it. My father was a degenerate gambler. My mother was rotting away in a hospital bed. We were drowning in a sea of debt they didn't know I knew about.

Ruby laid back into the posh white sofa, bouncing a small white ball, to and fro against the wall, "if I had anything special about me, I'd have rob banks with it and wouldn't be broke now." "Thievery is a sin!" "Then I could be the biggest sinner there is in the world." Rydian faked a gasped at the unworried girl and she continued tapping on the, "so are you going to finally tell me what you want from me?" "Are you sure you're ready to hear it? It might need the most heroic deed for the good of the world and if you say you are the biggest sinner, do you deserve to hear it?"

I can't believe this! There is a man in the pawn shop so I order my card to show him a picture of the heirloom. "Have you seen a girl with this Jose?" I asked as my guard showed the picture to him. "I don't know what you're talking about, you racist punk." He said. "It's in this shop. How much did you give her for it? I ask" Dude you're in the wrong shop he said

Banging noises came from outside my walls and my brows quirked in confusion. I lived alone. Quickly, I stood, careful not to make a sound. I grabbed the gun I had illegally purchased after I noticed that I was being followed (twice). Flipping it out of the safety lock, I gripped the butt tightly, hiding it behind my back as I opened the door gently. The noise came again, the clacks and bangs of pots and pans sounding through the house. This thief obviously didn't go to stealing school. Cus what in the hell of unstealthiness was this noise?

"Thank you, Tommaso!" Then, I saw the cufflinks. They were made out of antique platinum with exquisite craftsmanship, studded with small clusters of diamonds that glittered under the lights. Marco had once had a similar pair. They were his grandfather's heirlooms. I raised my paddle and said, "One million." The auctioneer nodded in confirmation. "One million from Signora Volpe." Tommaso turned to look at me, confusion flickering in his eyes, followed by something I couldn't quite read. Was it out of surprise, or perhaps… Tenderness? A complicated look flickered across his face, and his expression softened.

ELENA’S POV The pawn shop's neon sign buzzed like an angry wasp, the electric blue letters of "CASH 4 GOLD" searing my tired eyes in the gloom of the city night. It was the only business open at 3 AM on a Tuesday, a beacon for the desperate that promised money without the burden of questions. Adrian helped me through the door, his arm supporting my weight as another wave of cramping hit my abdomen. The baby was restless tonight, kicking hard against my ribs as if they could sense the danger we were in.

Cassian's Pov The pawn shop was on a side street off the financial district, it smelled like old carpet and dust and the particular staleness of things people had given up on. I set the watch on the glass counter. The man behind it picked it up without looking at me, turned it over twice, set it back down. "Four hundred," he said. "That watch cost eleven thousand," I said. "That watch cost eleven thousand new," he said. "It is not new."

On the paper he penned Needed money with excruciating care. ‘Oh, David. You didn’t buy jewelry from women who needed money, did you?’ He shook his head. Once more, his hand went to the paper. Loan. ‘Oh, for crying out loud, David. Do you mean to tell me you’ve been running a pawn shop out of the house all these years?’ Though she tried to sound stern, inside Maxine was unspeakably relieved to discover David hadn’t been buying jewelry for other women. ‘Has anyone ever bought back their things?’