Page 87 of Mile High Heist

“I’m not angry,” I said, surprised to find it was true. I was tired. Sore. Still fucking horny. But for once, the anger was absent.

Naturally, that made her suspicious. “Why not?” she asked, then kicked at my hand when my fingers tickled her calf. “Stop that. Why are you not angry?”

“I could have brain damage.”

Her eyes narrowed. “No. If you’re not angry, it’s because you did something worse. Or you’re planning something worse. Which one is it?”

I exhaled. Savored my last shred of fucking peace. “The second one,” I said tiredly.

Her breath hitched.

I rolled my head toward her. “Preacher isn’t getting that prototype, princess.”

“He has to.”

“No,” I said, my voice dropping. Real talk. “What I have to do is protect my crew. Preacher is a bad guy, Olivia. He puts on the act, he plays the saint, but he is evil to his core.”

Her face tightened, but something flashed in her eyes. Agreement, or resignation.

“So what?” she demanded. “You’ll use the SKS to go into hiding?”

I shook my head. “You can’t hide from these guys. They own the world. The only way to beat them is to play ball.”

Her brow furrowed. “Play ball? You mean sell the SKS yourself?”

“Yes.”

“You can’t do that. Jax—”

I yanked hard on her ankle, so she tipped onto her back. Then I rolled on top of her. “Listen,” I said.

Her hand smacked across my face. “Get off me!”

“No.” I caught her next hit and pinned her hands by her head. My ribs burned as I used my body to hold her down. “Stop. Listen to me. For once. I am going to sell it—”

“You fucker—”

“And I’m going to take the money, and I’m going to use it.”

“Use it how?” she snarled. Even in the dark, I could see the angry flush spread across her face. “You going to blow it all on booze? Drugs? Hookers?”

“Maybe,” I said, unable to help myself. Her anger was my greatest addiction. I took a big hit, even if her knee was thrusting dangerously close to my balls. “And when I’m done with the drinking, snorting, and fucking, I’m going to use the money to bring them all down.”

She went completely still underneath me. “What?”

“You heard me.”

“You can’t be serious.”

I pressed my nose against hers, hard enough to make her go cross-eyed. “I’m done being a puppet, princess. I want to start pulling the fucking strings.”

Olivia shivered, her mouth parting softly in shock. I leaned back to look at her. I wanted to kiss her, but I wasn’t convinced she wouldn’t try to bite me.

Then she blinked, and more tears slipped from the corners of her eyes. She tried to reclaim her hands to hide them, but I didn’t let her.

I wanted her to feel it. Hell, maybe I needed to feel it, too.

“If Preacher doesn’t get the prototype,” she whispered tearfully, “he will throw Molly to the sharks.”