Page 104 of Mile High Heist

It was Molly’s old voicemail from two years ago. She hadn’t changed it since she’d been back. When she was missing, I used to listen to it on repeat like an obsessive stalker, hoping, praying, she’d pick up. Now it made me cripplingly depressed.

Everything about her had changed, even her voice. Gone was the upbeat know-it-all who always called you back. The weirdo who actually preferred calling over texting. These days, Molly’s voice was flat. Lifeless.

And she almost never called back.

I tried again, anyway.

I didn’t leave a message.

There was a knock on the door, and reality slammed back in. It was Ryle again. He was giving me space, which I appreciated.

“Hey,” he said softly. “You good?”

Numbly, I shook my head.

“Hug?”

Numbly, I nodded.

He burst in like a labrador finally permitted to enter the house. He didn’t hesitate and tackled me with such force, I couldn’t help but choke on my laughter.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, pulling back. “Shit is getting real out there. Nate just came back. Apparently, we’re calling the snake’s bluff.”

“Oh,” I said. Numb.

Ryle paused, looking me over carefully. He touched a spot on my cheek. “You’ll be okay,” he said.

I sniffled, shaking my head. “How do you know?”

Ryle shrugged, smiling. “Well, even if you’re not, we could die in a plane crash any second now.”

I laughed again. It wasn’t funny. It was super depressing, actually. But that was what Ryle did. Casual trauma. Chit chat about impending death.

My phone buzzed in my hand. My heart leaped into my throat.

“I’ll be out in a minute,” I told Ryle with a watery smile.

“Cool, cool. You can help us figure out Madoc’s latest puzzle: how to make the plane skinny.”

I waited until he was gone before I answered. Hand shaking, I pressed the phone to my ear.

“Hello?”

“Olivia, darling.” Preacher’s warm voice floated into my ear. “I think we need to have a chat…”

29

JAX

Fifteen minutes later, the plane hadn’t crashed.

Then the phone rang.

I reached for it automatically. Madoc’s hand snapped out, catching my wrist. “Wait,” he said.

My brows shot up. “You want to make him sweat?”

Madoc’s answering smile was slow and cruel. “He needs to feel it.”