Page 40 of Over the Edge

“They won’t.” She paused. “Trust me, Flynn.”

I looked at her. In those green eyes, I saw fierce determination—and something else. Vulnerability. She thought I didn’t trust her, and that fact hit me like a sucker punch. We’d known each other for less than a week, and somewhere between flirting and fighting, she’d become important. Someone I wanted to protect—not because she needed it, but because I wanted to be the one she turned to when she needed help.

“I trust you,” I said.

And, despite my best instincts, I meant it.

I didn’t do partners or teams, except in limited circumstances that came with high rewards. In fact, Ethan Voss was one of only two men on Earth I trusted implicitly. The other was Tucker Quentin, and that was because the three of us had bled together in places that never made it onto maps. And because working for Tuc always came with very nice paydays. The guy had more money than God now and wasn’t shy about sharing it with his battle buddies.

But Lyric was different. She’d slipped past my defenses with alarming ease.

I was letting her into spaces I normally kept locked down tight. And that was dangerous…

Maybe more dangerous than any weapon in this hangar.

CHAPTER13

LYRIC

The truck lurched into motion,headlights cutting swaths through the darkness as it pulled away from the hangar. In the shadows, Flynn and I moved like ghosts, keeping pace along the perimeter fence.

“If we lose that truck, we lose Sentinel,” I hissed, my legs pumping as we sprinted across the tarmac. The transport was picking up speed, heading for the airfield’s rear gate.

“We’re not losing it,” Flynn growled, veering toward a row of parked vehicles. He tested the door of a sleek Mercedes.

Locked.

He moved to a BMW and cursed under his breath when it, too, wouldn’t budge.

I tried the black Audi next to it, and the door swung open without resistance. I slid behind the wheel and set to work overriding the onboard computer.

“Someone’s getting fired,” Flynn said and jumped into the passenger seat. “You need help?”

“No.”

The engine roared to life. Ten seconds. A personal best.

Flynn’s face lit with fierce satisfaction. “That’s my girl.”

“I’m not your girl.”

“You will be when I have you screaming my name later.”

Cocky bastard.

But he wasn’t wrong. I had every intention of finishing what we started in his hotel room.

He pulled his gun and shifted in his seat, checking our six just as something pinged off our bumper. “Aw, fuck. We’ve got trigger-happy company.”

I checked the mirror. Two guards had noticed us and were running our way, guns up and firing.

Flynn thumped a hand on the dashboard. “Go, go, go!”

I gunned it. The Audi shot forward, tires squealing as we raced after the transport truck.

The gates were closing ahead. Automatic metal barriers sliding together like the jaws of some mechanical beast. I pressed the accelerator harder, my knuckles white against the steering wheel.

“They’re going to lock us in,” I muttered, calculating angles and speed. We had maybe five seconds before those gates sealed shut.

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