Page 30 of The Vigilante's Lover
“They don’t know you just drove up in this thing?”
“We’re outside the high-surveillance perimeter and hidden from satellites by the trees. Besides, the car is cloaked. Even if they come across it, the identity attached to it is civilian. They’ll assume an accident.”
I realize I’m gripping the door handle so hard my fingers hurt. “So we walk the rest of the way?” I ask.
He glances down at my shoes. “You have any others?” he asks.
“I can look.” I turn around in my seat, reaching through the car to my red bag in the back. I dig for a second, and the red bondage rope spills out. I shake my head at the memory. Unfortunately, the only other shoes in the bag are a pair of knee boots on platforms.
I turn back to Jax. “The boots are worse. Boss and secretary role-play outfits don’t come with a practical side.”
“What happened to those shoes you brought from home?”
I feel around in the bag. “I guess I left them at the hotel.” Along with that red nightie the women put me in.
He taps the steering wheel in agitation. “It isn’t far, but the terrain might be difficult.”
“I’ll manage,” I say. And I will. If there’s anything I’m good at, it’s soldiering through.
“We’re going to walk up the main path,” he says and opens his door. “I’d appreciate it if you don’t mention the car to anyone once we’re inside.”
I pop open the handle and place a tentative foot outside in the dirt and pinecones.
Jax comes around. I keep my knees tightly together as I twist in my seat and prepare to stand in these heels on the uneven ground.
He holds out his hand. I hesitate, then place my fingers on his. He grasps me firmly. I stand uncertainly, the tiny point of the shoes snapping through twigs and leaves.
The minute I put my weight on my heels, though, I sink at least three inches, falling back into the car.
“Well,” Jax says. “This is going to be interesting.” He pulls me back to standing.
I take care to keep my weight in my toes this time.
He seems to be controlling his patience. I hang on to his hand and take a tentative step. Walking on my toes works much better, and by thetime I’m away from the car and the door is closed, I have a handle on my balance on the broken ground.
“I need to get some things from the trunk,” he says. He lets go of my hand.
I stand in the woods. “At least they don’t know we’re here yet,” I say.
“Of course they do,” he says, his voice tight. “The minute we got out of the car, they had our heat signatures.” He lifts the trunk. “I have maybe thirty seconds to choose my weapons and get away from this vehicle so it can stay cloaked.” He glances at me, still wobbling a bit in the shoes. “If you don’t wreck the whole plan.”
“Me! Wreck your plan! This ridiculous idea to waltz into some high-security silo-whatever even though those same people just stuck you in prison?”
Jax ignores me, sorting through his things.
Oh, that man is infuriating.
Hot. Sexy. Impressive.
But infuriating.
15: Jax
Life is nothing but a ticking clock lately.
I open the trunk to rapidly sort through all the tools at my disposal. I hadn’t anticipated the complication of Mia’s wardrobe malfunctions when I planned to get us away from the car before our identities might be tied to it.
We can’t stay near a cloaked device too long or someone will send a bot for a visual, and the car is obviously here. It’s only invisible to heat sensors and signals, which the Vigilantes rely on at this range. Even with the fake ID on the car, the two of us hovering near it will give it away.
