Page 50 of Mile High Heist

I leaned down, my lips soft as if to kiss her. Despite her terror, she waited with bated breath.

I smiled again, my demons rising to the surface in a gleeful rush.

“Time to shed your skin, little snake.”

15

JAX

Ryle was waiting for us in the first-class cabin. He’d clearly taken advantage of the perks—the snacks had been raided, the champagne drunk, the magazines thoroughly flipped and tossed aside. He was lounging in my seat, feet kicked up like a spoiled prince.

“You get it?” I asked him, shoving his legs so he was forced to sit up.

Dusting off the cookie crumbs from his shirt, he beamed. “What kind of question is that? Course I fucking got it.”

“Got what?” Olivia asked, suspiciously.

Ryle glanced at her, then back at me, brow inching up in question. I nodded. There was no point hiding it from her. We were in the shit storm together. A tentative truce. I was under no illusion it would last.

Ryle lifted his shirt, revealing a hand-held black device shoved in his waistband. A taser. Knowing him, the safety wasn’t on.

I would’ve preferred a gun, but beggars couldn’t be choosers.

“Air pig hasn’t even realized it’s gone,” Ryle boasted, pulling down his shirt and reaching into the snack compartment.

“Wait,” Olivia said, flapping her hands incredulously. “Tell me you didn’t do what I think you did.”

“Depends,” Ryle said slyly. “What do you think I did?”

Olivia gawked at him, then whirled on me. She punched my arm. “You stole from the air marshal?” she hissed.

“We need weapons.”

“Are you insane? Air marshals are federal agents, Jax.”

I gripped her chin, stopping her fretting. She stilled, her eyes narrowing. But she didn’t push me away. “Desperate times, princess,” I reminded her. “We’re not playing around.”

She conceded that with a huff.

Ryle munched on loudly. “Where’s the other bread in this sandwich?”

Both Olivia and I frowned at him. “You mean Madoc?”

“Who else?” The kid grinned toothily. He tossed a cookie in the air, opening his mouth to catch it. I caught it in my fist and crushed it into dust.

“Not the time, moron.”

“Buzz kill.” He slouched down. “Hey, do you think Nate—”

“No,” I snapped, cutting him off. The last thing I wanted to do was discuss Nate. I had a big enough headache with the idiots around me.

Ryle sighed, knowing better than to push it. I sprinkled the crumbs on his head, making him swat at me.

Then I heard that nightmare-inducing voice: “Noah? Is that you?”

Biting back a groan, I turned toward the cabin entrance. At the sight of Martha, pink-robed and glassy-eyed, Olivia puffed up beside me like a pissy cat. I pinched her hip, causing her to hiss.

“There you are, darling.” Martha sauntered toward me, fresh martini in hand. The woman could drink. I’d give her that. I’d be impressed if she wasn’t so fucking obnoxious. “We’ve been waiting for you.”