Page 56 of Mile High Heist

Ryle clearly underestimated my reflexes. Just because he was a renowned thief with sticky fingers didn’t mean he was better than me. I could swipe a pair of shoes from a sale rack like a ninja. I could drive a car while applying mascara and a cute, winged eyeliner.

Check me.

I struck again, hitting the mark. He growled. “Fuck. How are you doing that?”

“How are you so slow?” I teased him. It felt good to take a beat. Just a minute without feeling cold, constant dread.

“You’re worse than Nate,” he grumbled, rubbing his pinkening flesh. The mention of Nate, Jax’s elusive sixth member, made me curious. Jax wouldn’t even entertain his name in conversation. The betrayal ran deep.

“Nate was doped up during the last job,” Ryle said when I mentioned it. “He wasn’t thinking straight. He pulled a gun on Jax.”

I gasped. “Why?”

“Because the dumbass was scared. Dr. Z coerced him into destroying evidence behind Jax’s back. And, you know, Jax is scary as fuck when he’s angry.”

My mind whirled. There hadn’t been any time after the island for a debrief. Jax had been so angry at me for siding with Preacher. I still remembered the betrayed look on his face when I stepped into that helicopter and left him behind on the beach.

Would he ever forgive me? I wasn’t sure. But judging by his reaction to Nate, he wasn’t someone who forgave easily. He trusted even less easily.

I glanced at the window to my right. Ryle had given up the seat, so I had a full view of the dark, stormy night sky. We’d started flying over the North Atlantic. The Valley of Death. Every bump and shudder made me clench up in dread.

What the hell was taking Madoc so long?

“Man, I have no idea what people did before Wi-Fi,” Ryle said, extending his hands for another round.

“Me neither.”

“I haven’t swiped on a dude in hours. Or watered my virtual plants. After all that effort I put into them.”

I laughed, but it sounded tired. I was stupid tired. “I didn’t realize you were dating,” I said, using the conversation to stay alert. Gossip was as good as caffeine in a pinch.

“Not dating. Biding my time.” Ryle narrowed his eyes, then slapped me hard enough to make me wince. “Ha!”

“Biding your time for what?”

“My turn,” he said, but he wasn’t talking about Slapsies. His face was oddly serious. “I’m not good at waiting. I hate it. But I don’t think I can rush Cal. I need to wait because he’s got his shit, you know. Like I’ve got my shit. And Jax has his.”

I snorted. “Jax definitely has his shit.”

“We all do. You’re telling me you don’t have shit?”

I did. I had a lot of shit. A great big pile of shit, in fact.

They didn’t know the half of it.

Noise exploded from the cabin doorway that led to the bar. Ryle straightened and glanced over his shoulder. “Sounds like a raging party.”

“Should we see—”

That dreaded click of heels cut me off. I groaned. Not again.

“There,” Lucille’s voice carried over sharply. “That one!”

Ryle and I locked eyes before a wicked grin flashed across his face. “Looks like I’ve been made.”

I stood up and faced the other cabin entrance. Lucille wasn’t alone. A big, beefy man with a thick handlebar mustache had accompanied her. His face was sour, an angry flush creeping up his neck.

The air marshal.