Page 157 of Nest of Thieves
I laugh. “Now, you’re just sucking up. How are things on the ground?”
Now that Ricky is gone, Charlie’s moved up and is in charge of all suppressant dealings.
“Good. Nothing unusual.”
“And people are listening? No one’s trying to throw their weight around?”
“It actually hasn’t been bad at all. Ricky was a total dick.”
“Yeah, he was.” I gaze out the window. “Okay, Charlie. Keep me posted, and I’ll check in next week. Don’t hesitate to call me if you need to.”
“Thanks, Jo. See you later.”
I disconnect the call as Vette turns down the street that leads to the shop. He parks at the farthest end of the little parking lot outside the shop, far away from the other cars. Lark’s Raptor is up on lift and Jay’s working underneath it. There’s also a midnight blue Ferrari in one of the bays.
“Damn, that’s a pretty car,” I tell Vette once we’re out and heading toward the shop.
“You like it?”
“It’s gorgeous.”
“Good, because it’s yours.”
I stop walking. “Don’t tease me, Vette.”
“I’m not,” he says with a smile. “That’s your graduation gift.”
My eyes mist. Despite all the shit that’s been going on, I kept up with my classes and passed my finals. I might not use my business degree to get a job at an accounting firm, but I finished the damn thing and I’m proud of that. And since I found my pack, the government can suck my dick. They’re not getting any of my money.
“Dammit. You’re going to make me cry.” I sniff and blink to clear the tears.
“Don’t cry, mami. Once Lark is done installing the tracking device, she’s all yours.”
I scowl and storm toward the shop. “Tracking device? What the hell?”
“Easy, Kitten.” Mac appears out of nowhere. “It’s for your safety and in case someone is dumb enough to try and steal it. We all have trackers on our cars too.”
“Do I really need to be tracked? How will I buy presents?” I lightly touch the spoiler. The vehicle is almost too pretty to touch.
Someone’s phone beeps. The sound can barely be heard over the music. I glance at Jay, but he’s too busy to notice someone’s trying to get ahold of him.
Lark comes around the car, wiping his hands on a towel. “I can show you how to remove it if you ever need to sneak around.”
“I don’t need to sneak, but that might come in handy for birthday surprises and stuff.”
The phone beeps again, but I try to ignore it. Jay still side-eyes me when he sees me. Telling him to answer his phone would only annoy him, and I’ve been trying to make up for hitting him in the head and threatening to torture him.
I follow Lark to the front end of the car, and he shows me where the tracker is and how to remove it. The song that’s playing changes, and in the slight pause, frantic beeping fills the shop. Then another song begins.
“Jay! Turn off the music,” Mac shouts, furrowing his brow and glancing around the room.
Jay pulls out his phone and turns off the rock music. The beeping is even faster now. Lark and I stare at each other for a millisecond, eyes widening with realization.
“Run!” Mac shouts at the same time Vette roars, “Get the fuck out of the garage!”
I run first, clearing the doors before the four of them make a mad dash out of the shop. My feet pound against the pavement, every step punctuated by the beeping. The beeps are so close together. My heart slams against my rib cage, and I pump my arms and legs, ignoring the pain and sprinting as fast as I can. I’m halfway across the parking lot when the shop explodes. The shock wave knocks me over, and I catch myself on my hands before I face-plant. Pain rips through my shoulder—Lauren will be pissed—and I quickly cover my head to protect it from flying debris.
A harsh wave of heat follows the blast. I glance behind me. The shop is aflame, the gorgeous car the guys got me burning up along with Lark’s truck. My ears ring as my eardrums recover, and I sit, glancing around for the guys. They’re all lying face down on the concrete, much closer to the shop than I am. I shove off my feet and run to them. Their pulses are strong, but they’re unconscious.
