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I want to go all Braveheart.
Flip my kilt and scream FREEEEEEEEEEEDOOOOOOOOOOOM.
But I’m wearing pants, and even though Bridget knows my weakness, I know better than to show her what I want.
I rub my palms on my thighs. “You’d discharge me?”
“If you’re able to fill this role? Certainly.”
That’s a big IF.
Huge.
But…
It’s an opportunity, and those never come around twice. “How long would I have to be disguised?”
“Ten minutes, in and out of the hotel. We’ll make you over. You grab Serafina’s effects, case the room, and get us a lead on Nikolaj’s location.”
My heart chugs. “I’m dead if the Redfangs find out I’m fake.”
“That’s a risk,” Bridget agrees. “But isn’t it worth the risk to put a man like him behind bars?”
Is she offering an olive branch or the fat end of a grenade?
As sweet as it would be to topple my father and his drug empire, I know what happens when you fall into Redfang hands.
The SAS won’t come blazing to my rescue. They’ll watch from a distance, hoping I crack and hit a power level where they can justify keeping me in electric cuffs forever.
Ten minutes, ten seconds, or ten years—I’ll be on my own while they gleefully wait for me to fail.
“You can’t do it?” Bridget is a head shorter than me, but I’m the one being looked down on when her judgey upper lip curls.
It’s not so much her words.
That attitude pulls the cord in my chest until flames burn through my blood and spray out my steaming ears.
I know she’s goading me.
I know she wants me to do this so she can bag her nemesis and finally land the promotion that’ll get her whisked off somewhere she’ll never have to share my air again.
But all this time, I’ve been backing down.
Playing the good girl and keeping the peace.
Before I escape, I want her to know how badly she fucked up by throwing me away.
I stand tall, pulling to my full height so I’m the one looking down on her. “I can do it.”
“Good. We have to move.” Bridget clicks into commander mode. “Dara, hoist the prisoner so we can swap their clothes. Elyse. Take your mates on a supply run. Makeup and green lenses. And Silas. Work the auctioneer until he tells us that routing number. I want money transferred before anyone realizes we killed the auction. Spread word that a private buyer purchased the lot. Everyone else, ready to roll within the hour.”
The agents dart into motion now that we have a plan.
I’m silent in the storm, swallowing nerves while Dara levitates my sister to mentally unlace her stiletto boots.
My fingers shake from anticipation, from facing Bridget, and from finally being thrown an actual rope.
I never expected stripping my sister down to her designer lingerie would be on my Bingo card to freedom, but I also never expected to be handed any chance, so I’ll take the free square.
