Page 51 of Mile High Heist

“I bet,” I muttered.

Ryle was cackling like a giddy clown, eating it up. Stoking the fire, he whispered to Olivia: “Jax has a thing for cougars.”

“Does he.” Olivia turned to me, daggering me with her eyes. “How interesting.”

I flipped Ryle off behind her back. “Ignore him. I’ll handle this.”

“Yeah, you will,” Ryle hooted. I reminded myself to come back and kick him in the balls.

“Watch her,” I growled at him, then forcefully moved Olivia into the pod with him. “You. Stay. I fucking mean it this time. No more adventures.”

The priss had gone cold on me, turning her shoulder like she hadn’t heard me.

Did we have time for this? No.

But, fuck, if I didn’t like her jealousy.

I met Martha halfway, deciding to set the record straight once and for all.

But that hinged on my ability to get a word in edgewise.

“I just had the most fascinating conversation about you, Noah. I’m glad you came back when you did. Won’t you come and have a drink with us? Loosen up a bit?”

“Listen, Mar—whatever your name is. I don’t want to…” I trailed off. Frowning, I repeated her slurred words in my head. “Who is us?”

“Hmm?” Martha swayed, reaching out to steady herself on my arm.

I allowed it, even knowing Olivia was probably seething inside. Worth it.

“You said us. Have a drink with us. Who the hell are you talking about?”

“The gentleman at the bar. Sharply dressed man. Not as handsome as you, of course, but still quite charming.” She took a clumsy sip.

My jaw clenched. “This charming fucker wearing a dark green suit and a lapel pin?”

“I believe he is,” Martha said, delighted. “He asked if you would join us. He said he has something special to give you.” Her mascara-smudged eyes sparkled. “What could it be, I wonder?”

Something special to give me?

What the fuck was he playing at?

Shooting Ryle a meaningful look, I followed an overjoyed Martha back to the bar. You’d think a dead passenger and no signal would put a damper on the mood. But the bar was packed, at least a dozen people crowding the bartender. What else was there to do but drink?

“Over here, darling,” Martha said, leading me to one of the padded booths against the wall. There was a small window where I spotted a grim, bruised night sky.

And sitting next to it, a grim, soon-to-be-bruised Viper.

“Noah,” he greeted me, smiling pleasantly. “Good to see you. Come, sit.”

“The fuck do you want?”

“You know what I want. Now it is time to deliver it.”

I snarled down at him. “Over my dead fucking body.” I turned to leave when his laughter stopped me cold.

“Oh, I wouldn’t go just yet,” he chuckled, tapping his hand on the table. That was when I noticed the details of his ring properly. Solid gold and oval-faced, like a Super Bowl ring. Something about it splintered my memory, but nothing stuck. “We must not forget our manners. People are watching.”

The threat was loud and clear. I was surrounded by loaded guns, even if I couldn’t see them.