Page 109 of Heat Lightning

“Done.”

I blinked, stunned. Surely, Atlas wasn’t serious?

Joey seemed equally taken aback, growing even more agitated. “Don’t fuck around with me,” he said. “If you’re bluffing, I’ll know.”

“I’m not bluffing. I’ll call and have it wired straight into your account when I see my mate alive. Or would you prefer cryptocurrency?”

Despite Atlas’ easy acquiescence, Joey’s face turned red, and he began gesticulating wildly with the gun. Somehow, Atlas had shaken him even more, playing him like a fiddle while taking control of the negotiation.

It was as if Joey never intended for his plan to work, and when it wasn't met with resistance, he didn’t know what to do next.

Almost purple in the face, he said, “If that’s so easy for you, I want ten. And you don’t even know where we are, so you’d better listen⁠—”

The sound of gravel crunching under tires halted him mid-sentence. My heart swooped. Was that Atlas? Or someone else? Was this nightmare about to get even worse?

“You’re a fucking idiot if you thought you could take my mate somewhere I wouldn’t find. Now bring him outside, alive, and you can have your money.”

Atlas was here. Atlas was here. He’d found me before I even called. He’d found me and come for me.

Mate is here! My omega howled. Go to him! Go!

I lunged for the open doorway on my left. The warehouse looked different in the daylight; less mysterious, and more dingy.

The hall leading out of the main room was narrow, but ended with bright, afternoon light pouring in under the far door leading outside. If I could reach that before Joey, I’d be able to get away.

Too late. Joey threw my phone to the side where it landed with a crack against the concrete floor and rounded on me. “Don’t you dare,” he shouted, stopping me in my tracks by grabbing the back of my shirt and pressing the gun into the back of my head. “Walk.”

Marching me right up to the exit, he leaned in, his hot breath uncomfortably close to my ear. “If you try to bolt, I’ll kill you. Now open the door.”

The light blinded me when we stepped out. Shielding my face, I blinked against the glare, gaze settling on a sleek, black sedan parked twenty feet away, off to the left of the warehouse. Leaning against the hood, with his arms crossed like this was a casual custody exchange and not a fucking hostage situation, was the Masked Man.

He wore the mask, hoodie, gloves, and dark pants, with a knife secured at his waist. I swore I could see the mask shift with a smirk, the arrogant bastard.

I’d never wanted anyone or anything more. I was desperate to run to him and kiss that stupid smirk off his face.

“I want cash!” Joey yelled, pressing the gun harder against my head and pushing me away from the warehouse entrance. He was sweating profusely, bouncing on his feet. I tried to sidle away from him, but he clung to the back of my shirt and kept me close. “None of that other bullshit. You’re going to have to come back when you have it. I’m not giving him up until then.”

The Masked Man cocked his head and stood up straight, assessing, and headed our way.

Something glitched in my brain. The way he moved was… different. No less predatory, but more fluid. His steps were lighter, and the mask fit slightly looser on his face. He didn’t have the overwhelming presence Atlas usually carried when he wore it.

Dread pooled in my gut. Was that because the bond was gone? Could I not feel him the same way anymore?

No, mate is here, my omega whispered. He’s here.

A breeze cooled my back, tickling my sweaty nape. Carried on the wind, just like the very first time I saw him, was the scent I’d follow into the darkest pits of hell. Sharp ozone, like a fresh lightning strike, and blood. It weighed heavy and thick on my tongue. I never wanted to taste anything else.

I’d follow that dangerous scent anywhere, because he would always lead me to safety.

He would always lead me home.

The Masked Man in front of me halted when Joey turned the gun on him, hand shaky and unsteady. “Don’t come any closer.”

He held his hands up. “I’m afraid I don’t have any cash on me, sorry. But we really do have to get going. It’s movie night. We’re renting Moana.”

Joey’s hand fisted in my shirt. “I’ll fucking⁠—”

His words cut off with a choke. A sickening wet noise sputtered from his mouth, and he released me.