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“That doesn’t sound boring, Violet. That last one sounded like a fantasy coming to life.”
Because I’m soaking in all that Chevy is, I ignore where we are and how we shouldn’t be doing any of this. My fingers slide down to the hem of his shirt and sneak underneath to touch the curves of his abs. He sucks in a breath and a thrill runs through me that I can do this to him.
“Tell me you want to go to college.”
“I want to go to college.” His hands wander a bit lower and in a rapid movement he shifts me so that my body is sweetly pressed to his.
“Tell me we’re going to go to the same college.”
Chevy lowers his head and his lips whisper against mine as he speaks. “We’re going to go to the same college.”
The electricity building between us enters my veins as liquid fire. “Tell me you’ll never leave me again.”
“Never.” And he brings his lips to mine.
I open for Chevy—my mouth, my arms, my heart, my soul. It all belongs to him. I pour all that I am into this kiss and leave nothing behind. I revel in the perfect way that our lips move, the pleasing goose bumps that form along my skin as his fingertips glide along my thighs.
Everything about Chevy is heat and strength and every nip, every touch brings on a glorious spinning in my head. In this moment, I want more, I need more, but then there’s a clearing of a throat and the warmth I’m experiencing this time is in my cheeks.
Chevy kisses my forehead, hugs me close and then helps me off the desk. He keeps an arm around my shoulders as we face the detective.
“Do you need a few minutes or are we good to go over how today’s going to play out?” the detective asks.
Part of me wonders if he’s teasing, but he appears as serious as ever. Guess I’m about to walk into the valley of the shadow of death for him and he probably thinks the least he can do is let me kiss my boyfriend.
“We’re good,” I say.
“Then let’s go over the plan.”
CHEVY
I SQUEEZE VIOLET’S hand and she gives me a faint smile as she goes into the bathroom and shuts the door. The moment reminds me a lot of when I put her into the bathroom when we were kidnapped. Like then, I feel like barricading the door and keeping her locked in until I can confirm she’s safe.
The detective is in the room Violet and I have been in and he’s going over the backup plans to the b
ackup plans with the two undercover agents who will be in the vicinity of the house where the exchange is taking place.
I pull out my cell and text: Only two police officers watching her and they will be down the street. They won’t have live feed because they’re scared the Riot will have equipment to detect bugs. She’s only wearing a recorder that they’ll listen to later. Understand what they’re doing, but this means we won’t have ears on the situation if it goes bad. They feel there are only two routes to leave the meeting place, and if they take Violet, they can stop it. I’m concerned about the Riot taking her, but I’m more concerned about what happens when she’s alone. Violet won’t tell me where the meeting place is. She figured out I’d tell you.
Razor and Oz are in a restaurant a few miles from here. The detective doesn’t trust me on not following, so he and I will be hanging here when Violet leaves. I can’t tell them what cars to follow or what direction they went. The moment Violet walks out of this trailer, we’ll be blind.
Razor: She figured it out because she knows us. I need you to lift the cell of one of the people going. Crack open the back and on the sim card is a 15 digit number called the IMEI. Get me that and I can track his cell.
Lifting cells. I’ve been doing it since I knew what a cell phone was and I’ve been lifting them off bikers to piss them off for years. Can’t say I’ve ever lifted one from a police officer before, but there’s a first time for everything.
Not as concerned on getting my hands on the cell as returning it. That’s when life gets tricky.
I watch the men as they talk. The cell that looks the easiest to lift would be from the guy with the black hair. His phone is half poking out of his back pocket. The guy with the blond hair also has his cell in his back pocket, but it’s dug deep. That’s a hell of a pick, but possibly doable. No way in hell I’m going for the detective. He sees too much. Knows too much. He’d probably pull a gun on me if I get within three inches of him.
To narrow it down, I shift my weight, scraping my knuckles against the wall in the hallway, and watch. It’s not a loud or sudden movement. Very subtle. The detective and guy with black hair both pause with the sound, but keep going. Blond-hair guy doesn’t react to it at all.
He’s my target.
Water runs in the bathroom. The knob turns and Violet emerges. She slides her hand along her jeans with nerves and blows out an unsteady stream of air. “I’ll take someone up on that water.”
Bingo. Blond volunteers and I don’t move from the door, but only angle my body so he can get through the doorway in the tight, cramped space I created. He slides by, his body hitting parts of my arm. Fingers shoot out, snatch his cell and then I’m entering the bathroom.
Door closed, I pop the cell out of its safety case, crack open the back, and using my own cell, I text Razor the IMEI number. My cell vibrates.
