Page 93 of Mile High Heist

He didn’t move.

I shoved it into his chest. “Take it and shove your stupid mind games up your—"

His hand slapped over mine, pinning my hand to his chest. I stopped short. Fear and something else shivered down my body. We were so close that I knew he felt it.

I forced myself to look up again and meet his eyes. Those terrifying, all-seeing green eyes that needled beneath my skin. Those same green eyes that had watched me take Jax apart.

My tongue darted out, licking my lips at the memory. Those eyes flicked down, catching it.

“You were testing me,” I said, my voice too breathy to be an accusation.

His eyes remained fixed on my mouth. “Yes.”

“You think I’ll betray Jax.”

He said nothing, but his heart skipped beneath my hand. I wasn’t surprised by his distrust in me. I was surprised that it hurt my feelings.

His cold fingers pried the watch from my hand. He put it back in his pocket as if nothing had happened.

Then he bopped my nose, causing me to flinch. “Good girl.”

Clearly, I passed the test.

“You’re such an asshole.” I swatted at him, then crossed my arms. I felt oddly vulnerable, like he’d picked me clean.

The asshole just looked amused, like he always did when he short-circuited my brain. It was clearly a favorite pastime of his.

“Hey,” I called when he started to walk away. He paused, looking over his shoulder. I cocked my hands on my hips. “How did he taste?”

Madoc’s jaw twitched. It was small, the tiniest of slips.

“Devastating.”

He walked down the aisle toward his seat, not looking back.

25

OLIVIA

We were two and a half hours away from Zurich, and I was so ready to get off this plane.

It was obviously a sentiment shared by many. Restless passengers twitched and fidgeted in their seats. The flight map had never been so popular as in-flight entertainment. Every bump or shiver of turbulence was met with breathless silence. Just a bit longer.

Dawn broke beneath the plane. Window shades snapped up hopefully, allowing the warm gold light to fill the cabins. Against all odds, we’d made it to a brand-new day.

I was deliriously tired. Sore in all the wrong places.

But I didn’t stop moving. It made the time pass quicker, and kept my mind occupied from the creeping dark thoughts.

They splintered in, anyway.

The moment we arrived in Zurich, everything would change. Jax said a car service would be waiting for us, courtesy of his buyer. The tricky part would be fleeing the airport without being flagged by security. Or locked down in mandatory quarantine. We had no luggage to collect. And, thanks to the Vipers in the cargo hold, most of the passengers would find themselves in a similar predicament. We’d use the mayhem and ire of five hundred angry lawyers to slip under the radar.

It wasn’t a perfect plan, but so far, nothing had been.

There were some notable faults with it. Like the air warden, who I learned was bound and gagged in one of the bathrooms in upper economy. Ryle had broken the lock, essentially sealing the poor man inside.

And the plan didn’t even consider the many, many dead bodies on the plane itself. There would be a full-scale investigation. World-wide interest. Eyewitness reports that would likely recall the ditzy blonde flight attendant and her very odd associates.