Page 123 of Nest of Thieves
Opportunity comes in the form of one, ten-minute phone call late Friday night. The guys shut themselves in the office when the call came, and they emerge with angry lines and clenched jaws.
Closing the laptop I’d been using to complete an assignment, I eye them. “Everything okay?”
None of them seem to care that I waited in the library for them or that I could have been eavesdropping. I wasn’t listening in. I’d gotten a little behind with my coursework, and I’ve been scrambling to catch up in my free time, determined to graduate. I’ve worked for four years for this degree. I’m not about to let that all go to waste.
“Remember what I told you about Pony?” Mac asks.
I nod and set the computer on the side table. “Is the creepy dude with the windbreaker causing problems?”
“Not exactly. The Philly Vipers struck back at us for hitting that shipment to save the victims.”
Fuck. This doesn’t sound good. I’ve been living with the guys for little over a month, and in that time, Mac was shot, Orion was stabbed to death, and I got attacked by the 609 Vandals. Now this. Their boss, Damien, should be taking care of things, right?
Why are things so out of control?
“What happened?”
“His dealers slipped into a club Atlantic City Knights owns and handed out tainted drugs. Six ODs.”
“Oh, no.” I cover my mouth with my hands. Philly Vipers killed innocent people, whereas my guys took out the bad people. They saved people. They’re no knights in shining armor, but at least they’re not all bad.
“We have to go,” Vette says, bending to drop a kiss on my forehead.
“Do you need help? I can come—”
“No. You should stay. It’s too dangerous if the Philly Vipers are planning something.” Lark glances at his phone, continuing to pretend like I don’t exist. That stings, but my feelings aren’t the most important thing at the moment. “Some of my cameras are down.”
So there are blind spots.
“Is it safe for you?” I ask Vette and Mac, crossing my arms over my chest. “You’re putting yourself in danger.”
“We don’t have a choice, Kitten. Besides, we’ll be fine.” Mac’s lips tip up. “I like that you’re worried, though.”
I flip him off and the three of them chuckle.
“Give me your phone,” Lark says.
“No.”
“Babe.”
Oh, hell no.
“Don’t fuckingbabeme,” I seethe.
He sighs, and his shoulders drop. “Okay. I know you’re mad at me, but right now I need your phone. Please.”
I start to protest, but Vette interrupts me. “Give him the phone, mami.”
Frowning, I slip the device from my pocket and hand it to Lark. He taps on the screen for a minute then hands it back with the camera app open. The video is a feed from inside one of the trucks.
“You can watch us, if you want. Get live updates.”
“If this is your peace offering—”
“It’s not. Do you want to talk when we get back?”
I glance at Vette and Mac. They’re both glaring at Lark and my chest tightens. They’re upset for me. While I’m tempted to say no, I remember what Vette told me last night and simply nod.
