Page 60 of Mile High Heist

A wink of green light caught my eye. I reached up to prod at it. Julie inched closer again, pretending to be moved by the plane. “Careful,” she said. “What if you press the wrong thing?”

I was counting on it.

I touched the green light, feeling the device beneath it. Small, compact. Easily inserted into a hidden compartment on the back of a watch.

Julie blinked three more times in quick succession.

“You have a tell,” I said, removing my hand. “And you just told me where it is.”

“Where what is?”

I sighed and rolled my neck, loosening up the muscles. My shoulders were next, a slow stretch that tugged on my bullet wound. Unwelcome pain. I didn’t believe in regret. But if I did, I would’ve had Jax remove the bullet from my shoulder instead of carving it out myself with my knife. I’d cut a little too deep, damaged the soft tissue.

Julie stared at me, biting her lip.

I faced her. “You’re boring me.”

She held on a fraction longer, just long enough to consider her options. Realizing she had none, she suddenly whipped back her head and laughed.

“Fine.” Her laughter faded into a smirk. “I was getting tired of it, anyway.”

She stepped out of her heels and braced herself, feet planted firmly. I flexed my fingers. She refastened her ponytail. We sized each other up.

There was a certain art to fighting to the death. Not honor. Respect for the game.

And it was a game. Dying didn’t scare me. Life didn’t excite me.

That’s what made me a ruthless killer.

“How did you know?” she asked casually as the plane trembled in anticipation. “Where did I slip up?”

“You watch her.”

Julie scoffed. “Who? That ditzy blonde tart?”

“Yes, that one,” I said, smirking. “You watch her like I watch her.”

Her brow twitched up in amusement. Her eyes danced, bright and restless. “One obsessive killer to another. How sweet.”

I hummed and stepped forward. “I don’t like to share.”

That made her cackle loudly. All pretense of the meek woman who’d followed me into the server bay was gone. “That’s not the impression I got,” she said, grinning. “In fact, I’d say you share very well.”

My smile bled away.

It was clear who she was referring to. But I would not allow her to talk about Jax. Few things rattled the chains that kept my demons contained. Jax was a hatchet to them.

Sensing the shift, Julie straightened. “Oh.”

“Careful,” I warned her. “You’re going to die. But how much it hurts depends on what you say next.”

“You love him.”

My lip curled up in a sneer. Iron rattled and rattled. “I’m not capable of loving anything.”

The closest I came would be obsession and possession, the need to own, claim, and ruin.

I would ruin Jax. He couldn’t be owned. It was his saving grace, even if he didn’t know it yet.