Page 102 of Mile High Heist

Ten minutes. A loaded gun. A half-billion-dollar weapon. A girl who complicated everything.

Typically, Nate’s patience ran out first. “So, uh, am I ramming the door yet or what?”

“No,” I bit out. I pushed off the wall and faced them. “He has to be bluffing.”

“Which part?” Nate asked.

“The part where he’ll crash the plane.”

Nate’s mouth made a comical ‘O’ shape. Madoc’s eyes narrowed thoughtfully.

“You’re right,” Madoc said softly. “He’s bluffing.”

The pressure eased from my chest. If Madoc agreed, I was onto something. “He wants to live, or he wouldn’t ask for the kit,” I said.

Madoc smiled and touched his temple.

My shoulders dropped. “He still has the fucking advantage, though.”

Nate fussed with his shirt, smoothing down the wrinkles. That was a new tic. He’d become more compulsive since rehab, especially during high-pressure situations. “It goes both ways, right?” Nate said. “I mean, we can’t get in, but he can’t get out. He sealed himself inside the vault. Can’t we just wait for him to bleed out and die? Problem solved.”

“Dying men do desperate things,” I said, thinking of my old man, who’d clutched my shirt and told me he loved me for the first time right before he died. Crazy shit. “If he wants to live, he’ll come to the table.”

Madoc hummed. “He needs to patch up his boo-boos first.” He tapped his finger over his bottom thoughtfully. Usually, he’d be running his tongue piercing over his lip, which used to distract the hell out of me.

Nate looked at me. “Is the captain still alive?”

“Supposedly,” I grunted. “No confirmation.”

“He’s alive,” Madoc said with certainty.

“How do you know?” Nate asked.

Madoc glanced at him, and Nate backed up a few steps. The two of them had never been best buds, but I was surprised by Nate’s reaction. As far as I knew, Madoc was indifferent to him, like he was with most people.

Madoc proved it by turning his head dismissively. He spoke to me instead. “His uniform is brand new. He’s never flown a plane like this. He won’t know all the fun buttons to push.”

I considered that and nodded. “He needs him.”

“He needs him,” Madoc agreed.

Nate shivered and fussed with his sleeves like he was about to walk on stage and present his findings. I wondered if he was on a slippery slope back to a relapse. I told myself I didn’t care.

I did.

I always fucking cared.

I reached out and slapped his hands. “Stop tweaking. Just take a breath.”

Nate nodded, jerkily. “Cool. Yeah. Breathing. Good idea, boss man.”

Madoc rolled his eyes. He turned back to Nate, who stilled at the attention. “How do we reduce the weight of the plane before landing?”

Nate blinked, dumbstruck. “Um…?”

Madoc shoved him with his hand, causing him to stumble over himself. “Go. Figure it out.”

Nate nodded and nodded, then walked away, already taking his phone out to dial Zola.