Chapter 18 #2
“She’ll do it…” I say, keeping my voice steady, letting my confidence in our tests for this girl show. “Or she’s out.”
There’s no room for doubt, not for her and definitely not for me. This is the only way forward for her, the plan, all of us.
Koen doesn’t reply right away, but the shuffle of his feet, the movement of people around him echo over the line. “She’s approaching now,” he says quietly, almost as if he’s speaking more to himself than to me. “Goddamn. She’s fearless. Look at that swagger. She’s already got his attention.”
I lean forward, gripping the phone tighter, wishing, if only for a moment, that I could be there, too, watching her to see the way she moves. Apparently, she’s a force, whether she knows it or not. And maybe that’s what I’m scared of most.
Because forces like her, they’re unstoppable. They’re also unpredictable. She could make or break us. And I need to know, before anything else, which way she’s going to go.
“She’s flirting,” Koen continues. “Classic shit, really. She’s got her hand on his chest…
oh, he’s folding, Ric. This guy’s melting right in front of her.
” That makes me chuckle. “He’s taking the bait,” Koen murmurs, his tone growing more impressed by the second.
“She’s got the glasses. And… she swapped them out without him even noticing. ”
A beat of silence stretches between us, and something in my chest unclenches. Relief. Pride.
Fuck, maybe both.
That was fucking quick. “She’s done?”
“Yep. She’s walking away now, and… oh man, he put the Elvis glasses on, and she took a stealthy picture of him. He’s looking around, but she’s already gone.”
My phone buzzes with two messages from her. Two pictures. One of some aviators in her hand, and the other of the security guard wearing Elvis glasses.
A laugh bursts out of me, louder than I intended, surprising me.
“Did she send you the picture?” Koen asks.
“Yep,” I say, forwarding it to him. A few seconds later, he chuckles.
Another buzz.
You’re welcome.
Took you long enough.
I know she’s rolling her eyes at me, even without seeing her. I can almost hear the exasperated huff she’s probably making, and it’s enough to make me smile like a dork.
You could at least say thank you.
Don’t push it.
“That only leaves the last test,” I mutter, my thumb hovering over the screen. Let’s see if she’s got the nerve to do what needs to be done when it counts.
I take a breath and type.
There’s a red Mustang parked in the lot near the Bellagio, right off Las Vegas Boulevard.
I want you to steal it.
The silence stretches as I wait for her response, my throat tight with something that feels close to guilt. Jinx shifts beside me, her gaze fixed on me, unblinking as if she knows what I’m doing, what I’m asking of this stranger—stealing a car in the midst of the Strip in broad daylight?
It’s a lot.
Koen is quiet, too, the silence between us thick with tension. The seconds tick by, and I can feel my heart pounding, each beat echoing in my ears.
Then my phone vibrates.
Forget it.
Can’t do it?
Won’t.
Ah, because you can’t.
I’m pushing her, testing her limits, seeing if she’ll break. It’s cruel, maybe, but necessary.
Fuck you.
“Ric, she’s stopped.” Koen’s voice comes through. “She’s… she looks pissed.”
You’re useless to us if you can’t even steal a car.
I don’t need you. Can you say the same?
A reluctant smile pulls at my lips, even as the tension winds tighter inside me. There she is. The fire, the bite. But I need more. I need her to do this.
What I need is to know that you can steal a car.
Trust me, I can.
I don’t trust you with shit.
A beat. Silence. And then.
Test is over. Find someone else.
My stomach twists.
Shit.
“Well, I fucked up,” I mutter, and Koen lets out a sharp curse on the other end.
“She’s fucking walking away,” he spits out, clearly frustrated.
I swallow hard. “Where is she going?”
“I don’t know, on the move, heading away from the Heights. I’m trying to follow, but she’s quick. She’s… wait…”
The sound shifts abruptly like he’s shoved the phone into his pocket. The line crackles with static, and then, barely audible, her voice filters through. It’s faint, distorted, like a conversation heard underwater, but the anger in her tone is unmistakable.
“What? Are you going to make me do it? Compel me into stealing that fucking car?”
The words sting, even through the muffle. She’s seething, the heat of her fury bleeding through the crackling line.
“Fuck,” I mutter, closing my eyes, pressing the heel of my free hand to my forehead.
Did I screw this up for us?
The plan is hanging by a thread now, and that thread is her.
I replay the scene in my head, trying to pinpoint where it went wrong. Maybe it’s the risk, the demand itself.
Stealing a car in broad daylight with thousands of people around is a hell of a gamble.
And truthfully, it’s not like she’d actually need to do that for the plan.
It’s what I’ll have to do. This one was only to test her, see if she could break into a car, if she had the balls to do it.
Maybe I pushed too hard. Maybe I’ve been too focused on the damn plan to realize I overstepped a line.
Her voice cuts through the static again, sharper now, though barely reaching me.
“I fucking dare you. Because if you do, it’ll be the last thing you ever do to me. You’ll never see me again.”
A challenge.
A threat.
A promise.
And she means every single word. She’ll leave. She’ll disappear, and there won’t be any pulling her back. No mending what I’ve broken.
Koen’s silence hangs heavy down the line. He’s probably feeling the same helplessness as me.
The phone muffles, then his voice comes through, dry and biting. “Well, that went well. See you at home.” He hangs up, pissed off.
Fuck. This is my fault.