Chapter 13
Chapter Thirteen
Serena zipped up the front of the sweater she’d taken from Dani’s closet. The zipper stopped just over her cleavage. The black material clung to her more than she was used to on a job but would make climbing the balcony easy.
They’d spent the last hour rehearsing the plan—again—and eating pizza, which Serena had hardly touched since she’d already eaten at Milo’s.
She looked at the clock on the dash as Milo buckled his seatbelt.
At any time, the kidnapper would text the meeting point where they would swap the diamonds for Dani, and they needed to be out of Titus’s, gems in hand, by then.
Milo pulled out of the driveway. A beam of light from the back seat caught her peripherals.
She turned and took in Brock’s hunched form.
As much as she disliked him for the stunt he’d pulled with Dani, she couldn’t hate him.
Peyton seemed to have taken a similar stance.
Aside from Milo, there would have been no one else to turn to.
Nineties music playing low through the speakers reminded her again of the nights spent with Milo in the grass.
“All right. S, here’s your earbud.” Brock passed the small device to her and she tucked it into her ear.
A wave of nostalgia washed over her. Then a rush of adrenaline hit her bloodstream, chasing away brain fog and heightening her senses.
Like a recovering smoker inhaling a cigarette, she savored the tantalizing high of adrenaline.
“Testing,” Brock’s voice sang in her ear.
She lifted her sleeve, where the speaker was clipped. “Copy.” She turned to look at Brock and he winked at her.
“You’re all set.” He handed her another device. “Give that to Milo. Here, Priss,” he said, as he passed her one too. Peyton mumbled something unintelligible but took it. Serena smiled at her—it was just like old times.
Milo’s fingers wrapped around hers as he took the bud. Her knuckles burned under his touch, and her skin throbbed when he pulled the device away, leaving only cold air in its place.
Desire had been arcing between them like a damn solar flare. Having sex with him twice should have quenched her thirst. It hadn’t. Even now, with their friends in the back seat, she wanted him.
A grin slid across Milo’s face. “Thanks.”
Her temperature ratcheted up a degree and moisture filled her panties.
Dear god, she had it bad. She pressed her knees together and wrung her hands.
She had to keep her head in the game and focus on the heist. Night had long since fallen and the moon sat high in the clear sky. Could Dani see the sky where she was?
Serena tightened her arms around her stomach and dragged in a long, deep breath.
Dani’s beaten face filled her mind’s eye, and she curled her fingernails into her palms. Brock gave Milo directions, but their voices were muffled by her rage.
She’d kill the jerk for touching her sister.
The vehicle slowed and Milo pulled off the road onto a hiking trail in the old, quiet area of Lone Tree Estates.
“We should hide the vehicle in case a hiker spots it and reports it,” Brock said.
“Good thinking.” Milo backed into the brush until the arms of several trees fell over the hood of the truck. He shifted into Park and turned in his seat. “Is this good?”
Brock leaned forward. The glow of his phone lit the confined space. “Yeah, this is perfect. We’ll need to hike the trail for a good quarter mile before we reach the property’s gates.”
Serena unbuckled her seatbelt and grabbed the door handle. “Let’s go.”
Milo caught her wrist, stopping her before she could hop out. “Hold on.” He reached into the glove box and pulled out an object. The overhead light caught the black metal, and her blood sloshed through her arteries.
“What’s that?” The question was moot. She couldn’t tear her eyes from the hard lines of the weapon.
Milo turned the handle toward her. “In case we get split up, you need to be able to protect yourself.”
His words rang through her consciousness. He’d said the same thing the night he’d given her the switchblade—and years later it had saved her life. She fit the handle into her palm and caught the length of the handgun in her other hand, weighing it.
“Do you remember how to shoot?”
The gritty texture of sand erupted on her tongue, leeching the moisture from her mouth.
She turned the gun over and brought her finger to the safety button.
Of course, it was on. She hadn’t fired a gun since they were kids.
Milo’s dad was a hunter and had taught Tasha and him to shoot.
Milo had taught her when she was fifteen.
“I remember.”
“Good. Keep it on you.” He circled his finger in the air. “Let’s go.”
She climbed out of the truck and tucked the gun at the small of her back.
Milo met her on her side of the vehicle and they all made their way down the trail.
The hard, bulky metal dug into her tailbone, and her skin prickled with unease.
As much as she’d wanted to refuse the weapon, Milo was right. She might need it.
“You’ll get used to it,” Peyton said with a wink.
Serena frowned.
“The gun at your back.” She lifted her jacket to reveal the Beretta at her spine. “I feel naked without mine.”
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it. I’m afraid it’s going to go off and shatter my spine.”
Peyton bumped her shoulder with hers and snickered. “Don’t be silly. You have the safety on, right?”
“Yes.”
“We’re almost through this,” Peyton said somberly, with a sympathetic smile.
Despite the fact Serena had kept her distance from Peyton over the last few years, Peyton hadn’t held a grudge.
“I’ve got an idea. Remember how we used to bet before a heist?
I say we place one. It’ll help reduce the stress.
” A sly smile smeared across her lips, and Serena narrowed her eyes at her.
“Seriously?” Brock fidgeted with the bud at his ear. “I don’t think this is the time, Priss.”
“Oh, come on. It’ll be fun.”
“What do you have in mind?” Brock asked.
“Well, no point in betting on who gets out first. Not when just Milo and Serena are going in.”
“And we need to focus, not rush,” Milo said, his tone terse.
“Right. I’d like to bet a hundred bucks Brock and Dani get back together after this.”
Milo groaned and Serena winced and looked at Brock. Dark clouds brewed across his forehead. “You know that’s not going to happen. Dani would be pissed at you for saying something so ridiculous.”
“Did I touch a nerve?”
“All right,” Serena said, as they traipsed over the terrain. The property loomed ahead. “Let’s keep our voices down, shall we?”
“Hold up a minute.” Brock held out his hand. “I say—”
Peyton’s laugh bubbled in the tight space. “Easy, killer. I’m just ribbing you for calling me Priss.” She propped her hands on her hips. “Are you retirees ready?”
“I’m as in this game as you are,” Brock said.
He took the lead down the trail, and they followed a pace behind.
The heaviness in his voice told her Peyton had indeed struck a nerve.
She felt a little stab of sympathy for the big guy with a big heart who’d made a stupid-ass decision that had cost him the woman he’d loved.
Then she pushed all thoughts of Brock’s feelings from her mind and glanced down at the mud-covered trail.
Dani’s once clean gym shoes had taken a beating.
Each step sunk the rubber and canvas into the moist ground.
The gentle suck, suck, suck, on all eight of their feet was the only sound beyond the distant roar from the interstate.
Serena dragged her thumb through her fist, over and over. The constant friction on her skin kept the adrenaline bottled and prevented her from sprinting ahead.
Milo’s warm grip caught her hand, silencing the rub of her skin. She tilted her head back to take in the full view of him. The soft moonlight shone over the planes of his face, calming her. She let her hand relax in his hold, enjoying the brush of his thumb over her knuckles.
“Are you anxious about the heist or about Dani?”
“Both.”
Milo fell back a pace and gave her hand a squeeze. “Almost done.”
She snorted. Why did everyone keep saying that? “We haven’t started yet.”
“In an hour, we’ll be in the truck heading to the meeting point and all this will be behind us.”
She rolled her lips in and pinched the flesh between her teeth. Heat singed the corners of her eyes, and she exhaled through her nose to dam the rush of tears.
“What’s wrong?”
She shook her head.
“Serena,” he growled. The tone of his voice was harsher than it should have been, but it made some of her composure unravel.
Her gaze flew to Peyton, who passed her to walk a few steps ahead of Milo and her. “It’s just . . . what if the kidnapper doesn’t hold up their end of the deal? What if they don’t let her go? Or if . . . if . . .” Emotion choked her.
Milo’s arm slid around her waist, bringing her shoulder under the weight of his bicep. “Hang tight, babe. We’re doing everything we can.”
She nodded. She’d give the next couple of hours everything she had left in her. Dani would survive—she’d make sure of it. Her gaze landed on Brock’s form ahead of her. Muscles flexed under his gray T-shirt and his hands hung in tight mallets at his sides.
As much as Dani despised Brock, something had to be said for his willingness to help her. Serena burrowed closer to Milo and lifted her eyes to the hard line of his bristly jaw.
The same could be said about Milo . . .
“Brock, jump!” Serena said in a whisper, cupping her mouth. Brock teetered on the edge of the stone wall that surrounded Titus’s property.
Milo’s shoulders shook, and he couldn’t for the life of him speak any encouraging words without cracking up. “C’mon, man. I’ll catch you.”
Serena snorted, but her elbow caught him in the rib before he could take another jab at Brock.
Brock glowered at them. “Fuck you.”
Milo rubbed his hand over his neck.