Page 69 of Captive of Outlaws

“Tuck,” I say, and feel my shoulders relax.

“I’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he says. “You can’t get away from us like that.” He smiles.

“Sorry,” I say. “It was just...” I shake my head, not sure if I should explain about the whole LJ and necklace situation, and decide that it’s better to keep that quiet for now. “What’s everyone up to?”

“Oh, you know,” Tuck says lightly, tipping his head to the side. “Just working the room.”

I can’t help but giggle a little at that, but I can’t tear my gaze away from Uncle John either, too afraid that if I let him out of my sight, he’ll somehow spring on me.

Tuck follows my gaze and furrows his brow slightly above his mask. “Is that...”

“My uncle,” I mutter, the quietest whisper I can manage. “He hasn’t seen me. Or doesn’t recognize me if he has.”

“Ah.” I can almost feel Tuck stiffen next to me, and I have to admit I relish that little protective gesture on his part. “God, I’d like to punch his lights out.”

“You and me both,” I say. “And the lights on his precious Jaguar to boot.” I ball up my fist.

“Hmm.” Tuck taps his chin. “A Jaguar, you say?”

I roll my eyes. “Yeah.” I’ve always hated that thing. “Little sport sedan. Beige, of course.”

“Probably in the valet lot?”

“Of course,” I say. “Why?”

“Be right back.” He darts away before I can stop him, and I stand there trying to look casual for an agonizing two minutes, then three, until finally Tuck reappears, grinning broadly under the mask.

“I think we’re taken care of,” he says. Before I have a chance to ask what he means, a red-jacketed Fox Hunt employee weaves his way in from the kitchens and bends over to whisper in my Uncle John’s ear.

“What?” Uncle John roars, getting to his feet unsteadily. “How could they—how did you—this is unacceptable!” he sputters.

The waiter says something apologetic and makes some gesture to pacify him, but it’s no good. Uncle John tries to puff out his chest, which makes his stomach puff out more than anything. “Unbelievable! Incredible! Unacceptable!”

A stream of other words pour from his mouth as he staggers to the door, brushing just on the other side of Tuck as he leaves the lounge and disappears out the front doors.

I turn to Tuck, eyes agog. “What did you do?”

Tuck smiles. “Let’s just say that Jag will need a new set of tires. But I’m sure the tow truck will be gentle with it.”

I laugh. I can’t help it. The relief is so sudden and so unexpected, so fresh and light in my body that there’s no other way to let out the energy. Tuck laughs too, and gently touches my hand. “It’s good to see you smile, Maren.”

“Thanks,” I say. “It’s been an...interesting night, I have to admit.” I touch the front of my dress bodice where thenecklace is still nestled.

“That’s one way of putting it,” Tuck says. He takes a sip of champagne that he procured somewhere. “Tell you what, this is one hell of a stuffy crowd. Heist or no heist, this isn’t exactly my choice of company.”

“I’ll cheers to that,” I say, even though I don’t have a glass.

“Here.” Tuck grabs one from a passing waiter and hands it to me. “Salud, as Will would say.”

We clink glasses, and I take a sip, but no more. My face already feels flushed from the glass I’d downed prior to LJ stealing the necklace.

“So what exactly are you...doing here?” I ask, keeping my voice strategically low.

“Like me, specifically?” Tuck puts a hand on his chest. “Right now, I’m hanging out with you.”

I roll my eyes. “No, I mean, in the...heist.” I lower my voice even further on the last word.

“So do I.” Tuck’s eyes sparkle. “My role is looking after you. Well, that, and a quick hijack of the venue security system. Which, speaking of, should be deploying in...” He straightens his arm to glance at his smartwatch. “Now.”

---