Page 64 of Mile High Heist

He pointed to the floor, and I sank down, wincing when my bare skin touched the ice-cold metal.

“W-What now?” I asked him.

With that same sausage finger, he pointed at my head. “You stay.”

Then he walked out of sight, unnervingly silent. I knew he hadn’t left. I looked around, shivering. In a movie, there was always a plan B. An escape plan. I wished I was the kind of scrappy girl who could MacGyver her way out of a shitty situation with a shoelace and a paperclip.

My heart sank hopelessly.

If I survived the next seven hours, I was definitely boning up. I’d sign up for self-defense classes. Learn how to shoot a gun.

And therapy. Lots more therapy.

When the big man returned, I jumped, startled at his sudden appearance. He was carrying six backpacks, which he tossed onto the ground.

I had a very bad feeling.

“Are those…parachutes?” I asked in a small voice.

His answering grin was barbaric.

Oh god.

No friggen way.

I wasn’t scared of heights. I was top of the pyramid for three years running. But that didn’t mean I was prepared to jump mid-flight from the largest commercial airliner ever built.

That was some serious MacGyver shit.

“Listen,” I tried, pleadingly. “You’ve got the wrong girl. I’m nobody.”

He cocked his head like I’d spoken in tongues. “Nobody?”

“Nobody,” I repeated fiercely. “This is all just a weird misunderstanding. If you let me go, I’ll let you go. I won’t say anything, I swear.”

He continued to stare at me like I’d sprouted two heads and started to tap dance. Then his face hardened, and he snarled. “You are trying to trick me.”

“No, I swear.”

“Yes,” he hissed, charging toward me. “You are just like her. You think everyone around you is a fool.”

Who the hell was he talking about?

But I’d clearly triggered him. “Women who lie should be punished. They should be reminded of their place.”

Rearing back, I raised my bound hands in front of me protectively. Fear bolted through me. “W-Wait,” I stuttered.

He raised his huge club fist. I closed my eyes, bracing for the blow.

“Ken. Yame-te.”

The big man froze, then quickly snapped to attention like a soldier. He turned and bowed. “Apologies, Kuro.”

A striking man in a dark green suit strolled into view. His demeanor was calm as he took in the scene. When his attention fixed on me, I felt like a deer caught in headlights.

The hunter approached me.

I scrambled back as far as I could, which wasn’t far at all. My back hit the container, cold and unrelenting.