Page 14 of Steal Me (Rebel Hearts Heists 1)
Well. Okay, then.With a goofy smile that feels stupid despite being alone, I walk toward the bathroom and drop the bag on the tile floor, turning on the shower. The luxurious bathroom has a vanity filled with an assortment of perfumes and sample makeup that I probably won’t use … but then again when will be the next time I’ll be in a hotel like this? I remind myself to throw any of these extra cosmetics in my small duffel bag. I would rather not have to ask my kidnappers for shit. I slip into the shower, after folding my clothes from last night on the counter, and let the warm water wash away any residual sleepiness.
Once I’m wrapped in a plush robe and sitting at the vanity, I open the door to let the steam out. I have to admit I took a bit more time than usual to get ready and it’s due to a mix of different reasons. First, what else am I supposed to do with my free time? Secondly, I may… possibly… have been trying to look cuter than I did yesterday. I mean it isn’t everyday that I get stuck with four smoking hot bank robbers. I may be mad at River but I’m not about to lie and say that he isn’t hot. Because he’s … really, really hot. Does that make me sound shallow? The fact that I find the men who kidnapped me hot and desirable? I know that the appropriate emotion in this situation would be fear rather than attraction, especially when it comes to River. I have to be careful not to be lulled into a false sense of security by the fact that I sort of know these guys from school. I need to remember how I got here: the guns, the masks, the duffel bags full of money they stole from the bank. I need to remember that I didn’t follow them here after a party. I need to remember that they’re still trying to decide what to do with me, their hostage.
So why the hell is it so hard to remember that?
After drying my hair and applying a bit of makeup, I change into a pair of matching lace emerald colored boy shorts and a bra. Points to Blaine because while the size is a bit off, it’s pretty damn close. I then slip on a pair of tight jeans and an oversized Irish sweater that I’m nearly positive belongs to him. I inhale the cologne, yep, totally smells like his cologne. I tug on small, fuzzy socks and leave the bathroom, nearly walking right into … River?
I wince as I hit right into his chest and try to back up, only to have his large hands stabilize my waist. “Sorry.”
His eyes search my face and I wish I could tell you I wasn’t just a bit hesitant around the man. He must’ve just noticed because his jaw tenses and he grinds out. “Breakfast is ready.”
I nod and try to step away but he only tugs me closer. I place a hand on his chest and narrow my eyes on him. “Stop, River.”
“Then stop looking at me like that, Sloane.”
“I’m not looking at you any different,” I bite out. “But I would appreciate it if you stopped touching me.”
“Why?” He demands looking as if somehow what I’m saying really messes with him.
“Why?” I growl stepping into his space and pressing a finger to his chest. “Why, River? Less than twenty-four hours ago you told me that you want me dead. Why the hell do you think I don’t want you touching me?”
His face grows more serious. “I said that we were going to have to kill you. Not that I wanted to kill you.”
I offer him a dry look and he takes two steps forward so that I’m pressed into the doorway of the bathroom, his arms caging me and forcing me to look up into his gaze. There’s an obvious tension between us and as he looks over my face and takes a step closer, testing my reaction, I feel myself turn perfectly still. I swallow down any panic because I’m not about to give him what he wants. This man wants to scare me but also hates that I’m scared around him. Or at least he seems to. It’s messed up.
“Breakfast is ready.” Blaine’s voice is low and serious coming from the door, the warning edge to it making River tense up even more. The crazy bastard pushes away from me and walks out the door, hitting Blaine’s shoulder slightly while passing. Blaine doesn’t react to his antagonistic effort.
He offers me a large, rough hand and I grip it letting him pull me downstairs. Royce looks up at us from where he’s sitting drinking coffee and smiles at the two of us, not even reacting to us holding hands. Interesting. Kaden totally bothered him but not his own brother. I really don’t understand these men at all. Then again, I don’t really need to, do I? They could do whatever crazy shit they want to me and as a hostage I don’t exactly have VETO privileges.
Breakfast is oddly comfortable and that’s in part because I keep quiet, not wanting to bring much attention to myself. We’re watching the news and I can tell that they’re paying attention to any headlines that could appear about the robbery. Blaine made waffles and they’re freakin’ amazing, something I tell him quietly when it’s just the two of us in the kitchen area. He smiles at that, his ears turning a bit red at the praise before telling me that he likes to cook, especially when there’s a lot going on. He says it keeps his mind clear.
It’s nearly two pm before I start to feel a bit antsy. I know we’re having something delivered for Thanksgiving but my intuition tells me that something’s off. Kaden, dressed in a sweater and jeans, is sitting next to me with his hand on my leg in a possessive hold that I don’t bother adjusting. Royce is on my other side and his hand is on the couch behind me, and I don’t miss his eyes occasionally narrowing on Kaden’s grasp. Blaine seems to find both of them amusing, his form is relaxed and his eyes keep occasionally finding mine, filled with something I don’t understand. The Macy’s Day Parade isn’t a good enough distraction from this drama and River of course makes it worse by making snide comments whenever he can. How is this possibly more drama than my life was before I ran? I guess after I ran, I kept to myself way too much for there being any drama.
When the phone rings, Royce stands up and walks over to pick it up. “Yeah, we expected room service … someone else?”
All of us turn and that feeling of premonition slides up my spine, as Royce raises a brow. “We aren’t expecting anyone else … what’s his name?”
He listens and I stand up, my eyes darting to the elevator, Royce puts the phone on mute. “Anyone expecting a Yates Stevie?”
Cold ice runs over my skin as I speak before I can stop myself. “Do not let them up.” I know it probably sounds mental to them but there’s only one person I know that uses that alias when he’s conducting any business outside of his family name. Pierce. Yates is his middle name and Stevie is his second cousin, once removed. I may have gone through his files while he was gone on a trip once, the man really doesn’t understand how easy it is to access his information.
“What the fuck?” River stands and glares at me. “Did you call someone?”
Ignoring him I walk up to Royce and touch his forearm. “Do not let them up.”
“Why?”
“I just have a bad feeling—” The line goes dead as the elevator begins to move, the echoing noise barely audible from where we stand. I back up from the door and whisper.
“We need to get out of here.”
“Sloane …” Kaden speaks sharply grabbing my shoulders. “Who’s coming up here?”
Maybe they’ll assume that I knew the FBI agent’s name from the bank? I could use that without telling them how I know Pierce, couldn’t I? I speak quickly, “Almost damn positive that the FBI agent from the bank was named Yates.”
I really hope they won’t question me about why I’m warning them about an FBI agent. Royce swears and the elevator doors open, making my world freeze mid-motion as I meet Pierce’s eyes. My stomach drops as everything seems to go a bit hazy for me. I see his gun raise as he starts to shout orders and the room explodes into chaotic activity. I yelp as someone yanks me behind him, my face pressed against Royce’s back. I can hear them yelling and Pierce’s voice is the clearest because I hate the words coming out of his mouth.
“Let the girl go.”
