FORTY-NINE
Harry
Gigi is on edge – more so than ever – and I’m a fool for thinking it’s for anything other than the fact we’re sneaking around. Our views on whatever this is between us are completely different. “It’s not a risk I’m willing to take,” she told me previously. Whereas my view is as plain as fucking paper.
She’s not something I’m willing to lose.
A part of her is better than none of her at all.
We’re fighting, clashing heads, and my anxiety is increasing tenfold with each passing day, the burden of finding the trafficking ring weighing heavily on my shoulders. I’m about as close to finding it as I would be to finding a needle in a haystack. Something fucking dodgy is going on, and I don’t trust anyone. I can’t risk speaking to someone else purely on the basis they might be involved.
One of Richard’s colleagues is currently strung up in my surveillance room, but what good is that when there are girls being targeted? My stomach plummets at the thought of them being held against their will, and I exhale a slow, steady breath.
There’s nothing I can do about it right now.
I will discover the truth in time.
But today … the Gold House heist is finally here. The business exchanged contracts this afternoon, so we were pulled into immediate action. We’re all sitting in a briefing room, our asses in desk chairs at the ten-metre-long table that takes up the majority of the space, all of us equipped with combat gear, except for the balaclavas.
Gigi walks into the room, scanning for a spare seat, and she ever so slightly stiffens when she realises the only available one is next to me. I cross one foot over my knee, throwing my arm casually over the back of her chair. She walks to the empty space and sits down, edging forwards to escape my touch.
“Good afternoon, princess,” I say, keeping my voice low. “Sleep well last night?”
I know she did. She slept in my bed, and I reckon if I lean close enough I can still smell the aftermath of our shower sex this morning. The scent of my body wash on her skin. Christ, it makes me want to throw her on this table and fuck away every problem that’s bothering her.
Nothing sobers my thoughts more than Richard entering the room. His salt-and-pepper hair is as styled as ever, and his suit is in pristine condition despite the chaos after the news broke. He presses his palm to the table as he leans forwards, addressing us all.
“Thank you all for getting here so quickly. I appreciate morale has been down since the loss of Oliver, but that’s why we go out and fight for his legacy. The show must go on. We’ve trained for this moment, and I have no doubt you’ll all do me proud today.”
Silence.
“Any questions?”
Everyone shakes their head.
“Knock ’em dead. Not literally. There are no deaths on the agenda for today.”
And then we’re swept up in the chaos. I lose sight of Gigi in the crowd, her height giving her a disadvantage against the swarm of people who race out the door to help load the truck.
We’re on the road in less than ten minutes.
Whizz Tech Dan types away at his laptop, setting up the live feed, as well as preparing to hack the security system. It’s wired with a laser system that’ll project light beams generated by LEDs to create a trip zone. In most cases they’re invisible, but Dan has hacked the system to unveil the death trap. There’s no way to turn them off completely without the security being tripped, but we’ll cope with what we have.
With their security system in shatters, we only have a matter of minutes to sneak inside undetected. If all goes to plan, we’ll be able to get in and out without them realising the issue until morning.
Gigi drew the short straw to get us through the doors, meaning we’ll wait for her signal before we start charging the tunnels. It only makes sense, since she worked at a department store similar to this one.
She sits opposite me in the truck, and my hands itch to clutch onto her. The sight of her in the gear is mouthwatering, but there’s still that inkling of doubt she shouldn’t be here. It’s not that she’s incapable – there’s just a growing worry that the insanity will consume her, or that she’ll face a fate like Oliver’s.
I’d do anything for her to quit, no matter how good she might look in her full uniform.
This heist is far different from our other operations. We’d typically go early-morning, but with the contract exchange we’re sneaking in after close. We have the cover of darkness on our side.
We reach our destination, the truck grinding to a stop and silencing the entire crew. Sneaking open the door, Gigi climbs out, quietly shutting it behind her. I rest my forearms on my knees, picking at a loose thread and tensing in my own anticipation.
The burden of her fate has me unveiling tics I never thought I had. My leg starts to bounce, I pull on that fucking thread, and I gnaw at my lower lip until minutes have passed and her angelic voice is finally coming through the speaker on Dan’s laptop.
“I’m in. Let’s go.”
We climb out the truck, handhelds equipped in our holsters. If everything goes to plan, there’ll be no need for people to unholster their weapons today.
Sneaking through the hidden entrance, the team charge down the tunnels while Gigi holds open the heavy iron door. Instinctively I step in to help, but she shakes her head, refusing to meet my eye.
“I’ve got it.”
Adrenaline races through my body, as it usually does with a heist, masking the sting of her harsh words. I begrudgingly obey but keep a watchful eye on her as the team gather in the storage room the tunnels lead to. While Gigi secures the door shut, I crack open the other, peering into the dark department store.
Poppy calls over my shoulder, “Where are the lasers?”
“Dan?” I ask into the earpiece.
He responds quickly. “All lasers should be visible. If there’s none there, then you’re in luck, my friends.”
A few people erupt into cheers.
“Let’s not question it.”
Since we’re not limited for time, everyone rushes to their stations. Poppy and a few others make a beeline for the safe on a lower floor. Gigi races to one of the neighbouring rooms housing the jewels. Andy, the remaining team, and I head to the artwork section.
Despite Dan keeping a watchful eye on the surveillance cameras, my senses are on high alert. Andy and a male recruit reach up to start disarming an ancient painting from the wall – until a bellowing noise halts their movements.
The roaring sound of a kickstarting engine echoes throughout the quiet space. We all make eye contact, rooted in place. I throw up an arm, instructing that nobody fucking move.
And suddenly, in awe-striking bright light, lasers flicker to life, starting at one end of the room and quickly gaining momentum as they chase up the length of the store.
“To the floor!” I roar.
Everybody drops to the ground like dominoes, bodies prone as they flatten themselves against the marble. The lights are upon us in seconds, a hairsbreadth away from our heads, and it feels like fire touching my skin. While I know it won’t hurt, the fear of tripping the system is enough to raise caution.
“We expected this. The alarm system was just regenerated. We know what to do,” Andy calls out. “The plan doesn’t change.”
Army-crawling my way across the ground, I silently thank the janitors of this place as my face presses so close to the floor I can practically see my full reflection. People follow in pursuit, and when I reach the doorframe, I rise to my feet and plaster myself against it.
“We have a problem!” a voice shouts from the parallel room.
Great.
“What kind of problem?” I throw back.
“I’m fine!” Gigi hisses.
I recognise her voice instantly, and I grit my teeth, concealing the aggravated grunt brewing in my chest. Sticking to the wall like glue, I hold my breath as if it’ll help to keep my actions precise.
Turning the corner, my pulse quickens when I see Gigi standing in the centre of the room. Her body appears frozen in time, hands out at the sides as she keeps her balance, surrounded by alternating lasers. She’s just a few steps away from the glass cases housing some of the rarest gems in British history, which are due to go to auction for no less than one million pounds.
“I said to get down!”
“It’s not as bad as it looks. ”
I shake my head.
As I take a cautious step closer, intending to help her, she throws her hand out and shouts, “You’re not meant to be near me right now.”
“I don’t give a fuck about that!”
I’m not sure whether she’s referring to our relationship or me trying to protect her. Either way, I don’t stop to ask.
“Get back here right now! It’s not worth it.”
She gnaws at her bottom lip, her eyes frantically scanning the trip lasers that could detonate this whole mission, and then the glass cabinet.
“Please don’t tell me you’re actually considering this.”
“Leave me alone.”
Her eyes close and she withdraws her foot.
Ready to pounce, her eyes ping back open, and she races into a sprint. She narrowly misses the fluorescent lines in the air, her small frame an incredible advantage. She weaves through the obstacles effortlessly, only inches from her target. On pursuit towards the glass case her footing falters. Acting on pure fucking instinct, as if my body can tell her life is threatened, I throw myself forwards.
Narrowly missing the lines that could trip the system, I clasp onto the back of her T-shirt, sucking the air straight from her lungs. My hand fists the material, catching her body just as she threatens to fall. Her arms flail, her face hovering just an inch away from failure.
My arms shake with the exertion of holding her. Her breathing is rapid, the consequences of her decision shining through. As if handling a new-born baby, I pull her back up slowly, steadying her footing.
When she’s flat on her feet I turn her quickly and bark, “What the fuck were you thinking?”
She rears back. “Excuse me?”
My nostrils flare. “That was fucking foolish, and you know it! ”
“That stuff in there is worth one million pounds, Harry!”
“And it’s worthless if it’ll cost you your life,” I shout, my composure shattering. “I’m not prepared to lose you.”
But I fear I already have.