Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 84471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84471 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 422(@200wpm)___ 338(@250wpm)___ 282(@300wpm)
It's what we're going to need.
“Okay, Willow, stay with me. You gotta stand real still, okay?”
I nod. “Okay.” My voice feels so small.
Skyhigh traces each wire with his finger, just barely not touching, his nimble mind figuring out how everything is connected as quickly as possible. I'm shivering like a leaf, but do my best not to make it harder for him.
Pretty sure there are no second chances if he gets it wrong.
37
SKYHIGH
In the movies, they make it look so fucking easy. Just cut the red wire. And you know that whatever wire they cut, it's all gonna work out in the end.
Yeah, they have no fucking idea what they're talking about.
Just looking at Tanner's work, it's obvious he's not an expert, but it's not an amateur job either. Everything's rigged to cause an explosion if anyone tries to take the harness apart. Wires are unlabeled, they're all black and cutting any of them could cause a short inside the receiver box. He must've been stealing from Chafik for a while to get this much high-end hardware together.
Poe's jammer box is still crackling and humming, but the battery's not gonna last forever. And if Tanner has access to a frequency it's not jamming, this could end real fast, real ugly.
So enough thinking. Just gotta do.
A little status LED screen on the receiver box reads 'ARMD' in bold red letters. Nice of it to tell me. Unless it's a decoy. Saw this a couple times back in the day, where bombs would be made to misrepresent things. Sometimes it was right, sometimes it was wrong and felt too obvious. If I didn't build it, I don't trust it, but that doesn't mean I won't keep an eye on it.
“Skyhigh?” Willow's voice is so fucking thin, so fucking terrified.
“Every day and twice on Sundays, babe. You're gonna be fine.” Fuck, these go all the way around her. If this goes up, it's gonna take out more than just us.
“Just… just in case.” A sob racks her, and I pull my knife back real quick so I don't accidentally bump anything. “I—When Tanner took me, I—I was on my way to you.”
“Baby girl, don't talk,” Blackout hisses, squeezing her hand harder. “You can tell us after, okay? We're not going anywhere. None of us fucking are.”
“No! Listen.”
Fuck, we don't have time for this. If Tanner gets control again…
“I was on my way to you guys. I needed to tell you that—that I want this to work. You, all of you, and me. That I—that I think I’m falling in love with you.”
“Baby,” Dragon growls. “When this is over, I'm gonna kiss you so fucking hard you'll forget your own damn name. Of course you do, even if you're the last one to figure it out.”
“What? But—” The fact that she can get indignant while in a fucking bomb harness says something about how caught off guard she is.
“We’re not going anywhere,” I say while checking the connections a third time. Pretty sure I've got it figured out. “You fucking had us that first night when you came charging into the club to file a fucking noise complaint. All fire and sweetness and sexy, wrapped up in one. If you think you're getting outta this by strapping on bombs and blowing us all to hell, then I got news for you, babe.” Drawing a breath and holding it tight, I catch the knife blade under one of the wires, and pull. The thin wire comes apart, split into two halves. The LED light goes from “ARMD” to just black. If anything's gonna happen, it's now. And when it doesn't, I let my breath back out. “You're not getting off the hook that fucking easy.”
“Is… is it done?”
I put a steadying hand on her thigh, squeezing it in comfort. “I think we’re golden. Don't move yet.”
“Not going to move a millimeter until you tell me,” she replies quickly.
The LED suddenly flips back on, the bright red color already giving me a sinking feeling. It doesn't say “ARMD” anymore though.
Just a number, 0060.
Then 0059.
0058.
Fuck. Backup system? Tanner’s more sophisticated than I thought.
“Skyhigh?” The tremble in Willow's voice is uncertain. She knows something is wrong.
“Just hold on.”
Dragon leans in to see.
0049 .
His resigned sigh scares me more than the fucking numbers.
“Gonna be fine, Willow. Look at me.” Blackout risks kissing the top of her head while I try to figure out how to stop the backup timer.
It's just hit 0042 when a shot echoes and kicks up a chunk of asphalt right next to my knee. You gotta be fucking kidding me.
Dragon has his piece in his hand immediately, scanning the buildings across the street from the gates. His growl is low and deadly. “Must've figured out we jammed him.”
“He's desperate,” Willow whispers. “A little unhinged, and he’s freaked out that someone named Chafik's after him. I think he's just trying to do as much damage as possible. He wouldn't shut up about it the whole way here.”