Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 87618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87618 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 438(@200wpm)___ 350(@250wpm)___ 292(@300wpm)
“You ruined my knee,” the man gasps.
“You’re lucky I didn’t do worse.”
I step back. He moans in pain. I walk past him and climb into his van. It smells like stale beer. The back’s covered in a layer of trash. Fast food, coffee cups, standard stake-out fare. There are binoculars and a nice camera on the passenger seat.
The fucker’s been watching me very closely.
I delete the camera’s memory card then pull the van away. I double park it in the street before returning to the alley. My friend is sitting with his back against the wall, breathing hard. His phone is in his hands and he’s typing out a message.
“You’re dead for this,” he says, sucking air between his teeth.
“I doubt you’re that important.”
I get in my car and drive off.
That was impulsive. At worst, it was suicidal. Iron Head is going to be annoyed I shot his soldier like that, but he understands the game. He knows the sort of man he’s working with.
But still, under other circumstances, I never would’ve tried something like that.
Normally, I like to keep a good relationship with a client.
I’m past caring.
Riley must be rubbing off on me because I’m making choices with my heart instead of my head, and that might be very dangerous right now.
Still, I think that stunt will buy me some more time. Iron Head will be cautious about following me and approaching next time. Which means I’ll be able to move freely for a little while.
I just have to figure out how I can use this to my advantage.
Chapter 26
Riley
After Alexan leaves for his meeting, I head out to visit my brother. I’m pretty sure my dad will be out running errands or something, which means it’s safe to go home for an hour. On the way, I shoot Cass a text and invite her back to Alexan’s house. She answers immediately: a thousand times yes, see you later.
I stop off for some coffee before heading into the house. “Hello?” I call out. The place is quiet. “Anyone home?” I head into the kitchen, dump everything on the table, and start going through the mail. There are a few unpaid bills Dad needs to take care of and dirty dishes in the sink. I’m tempted to start cleaning up and organizing, but I force myself to stop.
I don’t live here anymore. I don’t owe my father a second of my time.
There’s some bumping around from upstairs. I whistle to myself as I start making some eggs and toast. As I’m finishing up, Brenden appears in the kitchen behind me.
“Hey, little sister,” he says, shuffling over to the table. “Didn’t expect you today.”
“Just thought I’d drop in and—” I turn and stare at him.
My mouth drops open.
Brenden looks like shit. His right eye is swollen and puffy, and his mouth looks like someone kicked him in the teeth. He’s favoring his right side and curled over his left ever so slightly.
He tries to smile. “What’s wrong? You look like you got beat up.”
“Brenden…” I let that trail off. He grimaces and looks away.
Instead of starting the interrogation, I plate the toast, pile some eggs on top, and slide it in front of him.
He seems surprised but thankful. I get him ketchup and make sure he gets his coffee before I set myself up. We eat together in silence, forks scraping plates. I keep looking up at his bruised face, my heart skipping beats, a nervous fear jolting into my core.
Something is deeply, deeply wrong.
I knew it the second he came back. He’s been hiding something from me. But now the proof is written in bruises all over his face.
“It’s not as bad as you think,” he says once he’s finished. He sits back in his chair and drinks the coffee with a slight wince.
“Have you looked in a mirror?”
“I know.” He frowns, prodding at his mouth. “My poor, beautiful face.”
“I wouldn’t go as far as beautiful, but you’re right.”
He grins, coughs, groans, and sighs.
“I probably should’ve said something sooner,” he admits.
“Said something about what exactly?”
He levels an easy stare at me. “The heist I went on didn’t exactly go well.”
I let that sink in.
Brenden’s a kind of freelancer. He does jobs for the McGrath family but also takes on other work organized by other crews looking for temporary help. His job out in Vegas was one of those.
Slowly, he gives me the story. He talks about a guy he met named Marcus who had a solid plan put together. There was a small casino on the edge of town with some lax security practices, and Marcus knew how to exploit it. Brenden and a few other guys were brought in to help pull it off.
“Things went to plan at first,” my brother says as steam rises from his coffee cup. He cradles it in both hands. “We hit the money drop and used the manager’s key card to slip into the back. That’s where they kept the real cash. I filled my bag the way I was supposed to while the other guys did the same. Once we were loaded up, we were supposed to get out of there. But instead, and I swear I don’t know how, a fire got started. It caught the leftover cash we couldn’t fit in our bags, and the whole back room went up in seconds. It was madness. The smoke alarms went off, sprinklers turned on, the whole place went on lockdown. The other guys panicked, but I had enough sense to go for the door. The key card still worked, and I slipped out, but I guess I didn’t leave it open long enough because by the time I looked back, nobody had followed me out. I swear, Riley, I never would’ve left them behind, but I was choking on smoke, and I thought they were following.”