Page 15 of Nest of Thieves
I give him a pointed look. “She stayed in her room. She’s also off-limits, bro. She’s an omega and she stole our money.”
“She’s hot.” He doesn’t give two shits about her being an omega.
Setting the coffees on the hood, I shake my head. “Sure she’s hot, but you have to think with your big head, not your little one.” I open the passenger door and set the bag of food on the floor before grabbing the drinks and climbing in.
Vette joins me, slamming his door hard enough to wake up Mac.
“Motherfucker.” Mac punches Vette’s headrest. “You know I hate that shit.”
“Oh, lo siento, princesa.” Vette grabs a coffee from the carrier.
“Lo siento my dick, asshole.” Mac groans and stretches in the back.
“That makes no sense.” I take a sip of my coffee and wrinkle my nose. “Disgusting.”
“It’s Carbucks, what do you expect?” Vette asks, nodding at the bag. “Hook it up.”
“Thanks for getting breakfast.” Mac takes the coffee I offer him. “That tranq was no joke. I’m still a little groggy.”
“Could be because you slept in a car.” I toss him and Vette a wrapped-up sandwich. “I didn’t sleep for shit.”
“Any movement?”
“Nah, but she has to come out at some point.”
She can’t stay hidden forever.
five
JO
Holing up in my dorm for the day sucks, but I don’t want to risk running into my stalkers. Especially not with them having hard-ons for my cash. It’s a lot of money. Three hundred and fifty thousand, to be exact. A good fake identity costs around five-thousand dollars. A better one will cost me ten-thousand more. I want it to be bulletproof. I don’t mind spending the extra money if it means less chance of being caught by the police or worse, the FBI.
The money is more than enough to pay off my stipend and set up my new life. I’ll even have a little extra to help me settle into a new routine. I’ll have to get a job for a while, but that’ll be easy enough with the scent suppressors. Betas are easy hires.
My phone rings. Laurence’s name flashes across the screen.
“Hey, Laurence,” I say, sitting on the edge of my unmade bed.
“Kitty. Are you ready for tonight?” His voice is distorted, as always, but it’s easy to pick up the hardness in his tone. Laurence is a fifty-year-old hard-ass criminal. Without him taking me in when I stupidly stole his car at fifteen, I’d be in jail or dead. Laurence wasn’t happy to find I had posed as a valet and taken his precious Jaguar. I smile to myself, remembering how pissed he’d been when he finally caught up to me.
Apparently speeding off right as you get into a car isn’t the smartest way to steal a vehicle. Who knew? Definitely not me as a silly rebellious girl. Laurence took that streak of rebellion into his firm, and sometimes cruel, hand and turned me into a pro.
“As much as I can be. If he takes me home, I’ll get it done.”
Laurence grunts. “He’ll take you home. You have the outfit I sent?”
I eye the closet. “Yeah, I got it. It’s a bit much, don’t you think?”
“It’s what Edmund likes. The pickup is at midnight. Don’t fuck this up, Jo.”
As much as I think of him as a father figure—that is, a fucked-up version of what a father should be—Laurence can be a real dick. Especially when he’s not so threateningly threatening me. I’m under no delusions. Laurence doesn’t care about me outside of what I can do for him. He saw a pretty girl in his stolen Jag and a world of possibilities. After all, men love to take advantage of vulnerable women. What better way to fuck the men he targets over than using me as bait? They never suspect me. They only see what they want.
“Got it. See you later?” I don’t hang up; that would make him mad.
“I’ll be there.”
So he is in town. It’s been a few months since I’ve seen the man in person. I usually deal with one of his local goons.
