Page 98 of Mile High Heist

Olivia hiccupped. “It’s my fault. She’s dead because of me. We’re all dead because of me.”

The small, irritating voice in my head whispered: She’s wrong. This is your fault.

Why?

Because you looked.

Because you felt.

Because you wanted.

I strangled the little voice and shoved it back in the locked drawer in my mind. I didn’t believe in regret. I wouldn’t start now.

With every new detail, Jax grew tenser, his face darker.

The idiot thought he could fix the impossible.

Olivia whimpered. “We were so close.” She sagged, defeated.

Jax’s fists clenched. “It’s not over.”

“The Viper has the plane, Jax. He controls it now. And if he killed the captain—”

“Stop,” Jax said, cutting her off. He started to pace the short length of the suite, a caged animal once again. “Just let me think for a second.”

The sweat gleamed from his skin. The plane shuddered, but it didn’t deter him. On his third rotation, he stopped and nodded to himself. “War room,” he said.

Without him asking, I turned and collected the rest of the ragtag rascals. Nate kept as much distance from me as possible. He hadn’t forgotten what happened when I learned he pulled a gun on Jax. He still had night terrors about it.

Ryle just pouted at me. “You suck,” he muttered petulantly, his precious feelings hurt.

I deliberately tripped him in the aisle, causing him to faceplant into an older man who glared at him. The puppy righted himself, then shot me a bright grin over his shoulder.

Forgiveness came in many different forms.

The mood shifted when they learned the news. Nate sank to the floor. Ryle stared at Jax like he always did, like he held the sun and the moon. Olivia had a similar look, though she did her best to hide it. For good reason.

Jax would ruin her, just like I would ruin him.

Jax reached for his phone and dialed Zola, putting her on speakerphone. “Patch in Cal,” he told her, and a moment later, we were all locked in.

“Here’s the situation,” Jax said, pacing again. “We’re two hours away from Zurich. We got a fucking Viper in the cockpit. No weapons. No way to get in there unless he grants us access from within.”

“Maybe we could ask him nicely,” Ryle said, then winced at Jax’s scowl. “Right, got it. Not the time.”

“We need a plan,” Jax said. “No stupid ideas. Go.”

Nate perked up. “We could ram through the cockpit door. Use one of those trolleys.”

Zola’s voice crackled on the phone. “He said no stupid ideas, dumbass.”

Nate grinned. “Hello to you, too, love of my life.”

“Someone smack him for me.”

I leaned over and smacked him across the head. He flinched, then shuffled over a few more inches, so he was no longer in swatting distance.

“The cockpit door is reinforced with multiple layers of metal, designed to withstand incredible force,” Zola said, her fingers clacking across the keys. “It’s bullet-proof and fire-resistant.”