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“I put him in rehab, Annie. I’m sorry, I knew it would upset you but he needs help.”
“No.”
“Annie-”
“No.” I push his hands off my shoulders. “He hates it there. I promised him I would never do that to him.”
My mind is spiraling. The last time I tried to force him into rehab he lost his mind on me. He made me promise I would never put him through that. The memory spins in my mind. He’s probably so angry at me. He probably feels so fucking betrayed.
“You didn't,” Gio sighs. “I did.”
“It doesn’t matter!” I shout back. “I said I wouldn’t do that to him again and you put him there! Without even talking to me. What makes you think you have the right?”
Gio looks me over, assessing the angry woman in front of him. “He needs help, Annie.”
“It wasn’t your place.”
A short laugh leaves his lips. “So it’s okay for me to bail him out of a hundred k debt, but when it comes to actually getting him help it’s not okay. Is that right?”
“You’re not-”
“No.” He waves a hand, silencing me. “I get it, babe. When I’m useful to you, it’s fine, but I’m not useful anymore, hmm?”
“Gio-”
“Let’s get back to business.” He dismisses me again. “You fucking work for me, or don’t you remember that? He stays in the rehab facility. Once this job is done I’ll have him released.” He stalks toward the door before turning back to me. “And answer my fucking calls.”
The door slams behind him.
I sink down to the floor, the panic rising inside me again settling next to my anger and my broken heart. All three are fighting for center stage.
This sucks.
The fire is about a mile from the Pearce Headquarters and the same distance from the police and fire station.
It’s a small fire, minimal damage and nobody will get hurt.
This is the best way to figure out the timing.
Charlie and I like to cover all the bases. Annie will turn off the alarm and open the door, but there's a chance that as soon as she enters the building she’ll trip a silent alarm. An alert will be sent to the police and then our asses are grass.
We need to know how much time we have, and this is the best way to do it.
We sit in Charlie’s car, a black GMC Acadia that’s less noticeable than my Porsche. Charlie’s eyes flicker between the fire and the stopwatch he holds. We sit in a parking lot up on a hill where we have a better view of the field below us where we had a low-level soldier set the fire.
“Lights
.” I point to flickering lights in the distance. I can see most of the cop car and a fire truck in the distance. “Almost there.”
We watch as the lights get closer and closer to the fire.
“And, time.” I announce.
Charlie clicks the stop button on the watch. “Seven minutes and thirty-six seconds.”
“That’s tight.” We would need to get in, open the safe, and get out in under seven minutes. Six, really, if we want to get ahead of the police.
“We can do it.” Charlie shifted the Acadia into drive, keeping the lights off until we’re back on the road.
