Page 10 of Mile High Heist

My breath hitched when I sensed him lean in. “Thank you, sir,” he purred.

My eyes snapped back to his face. Just like that, my anger returned. His answering smile was cold and disconcerting. Madoc loved mind games. He was a knife-wielding psychopath who tortured and killed without remorse. He wasn’t just a thief—he was Jax’s executioner. The worst one in his crew.

And I hated him with the fire of a thousand suns.

Straightening my shoulders, I prepared to turn away when his hand snapped out and grabbed my wrist. He dropped me just as quickly, like I burned him. His face, of course, gave nothing.

“Someone’s calling,” Madoc said, his voice soft and dangerous. “You should answer.”

My hand drifted into my pocket, brushing the burner phone.

“I’ve been kind of busy,” I said.

His brow twitched in warning.

“Sir,” I added, like it was pulled between my teeth.

Madoc’s gaze dipped down. On anyone else, it would look like he was checking me out. On him, it was like being stripped apart, skinned, gutted, and served for dinner. There was hunger in it, but not the right kind. The wrong kind.

Everything about Madoc was the wrong kind.

“What?” I murmured defensively.

His eyes sharpened at my tone. “How do you know?”

“Know what?”

“That the prototype is in the briefcase.”

I frowned at him. I didn’t have time for games. But, as much as I despised him, I couldn’t deny that Madoc was clever. Disturbingly clever. Not only did he have an eidetic memory, he saw things other people didn’t.

“Where else would it be?”

Madoc’s brow twitched. “Exactly.” He leaned closer. “The wrong door is always the easiest to open.”

I swallowed. “You think it’s a decoy?”

Madoc stared at me. Blank, yet somehow patronizing. Like I was a complete idiot.

I crossed my arms, then uncrossed them, not wanting to look annoyed. I had to remember my cover.

“Was that all, sir?” I asked, plastering on a smile that I hoped conveyed my sarcasm.

Madoc leaned back, smirking. “Cute uniform.”

My eye twitched.

He hummed, as if satisfied with my reaction, and turned back to his seat. He didn’t look at me again.

Fourteen hours, I reminded myself. I could survive fourteen hours.

Right?

4

JAX

The universe had a twisted sense of humor.