Page 39 of Nest of Thieves
“So?” I try to extract myself from his arms.
He grips my hips tighter and brushes his lips over the shell of my ear. “I haven’t forgotten about my knife. I want it back.”
A flush crawls up my neck, and I want to die from how much I like him refusing to let me go. “I’ll need a ride to my car and a promise that you won’t try to take my money. Again.”
He moves back to stare down at me. His blue irises dance with mirth. “You stoleourmoney, but I’ll give you my word. We won’t touch your money, so long as you do the job with us.”
“What is the job?” I ask, finally breaking free of his hold and putting distance between us. His scent on my cheek clings to me, making it hard to think rationally. Mac is unsettling. I need to figure out who they work for so I can get the ring back. I have to stay.
“Let’s get your things and go over the logistics with Lark and Vette.” He holds his hand out for me.
I give him a dubious look.
“One day,” he says with hope shining in his pretty irises.
“Don’t count on it.”
“I like it when you’re mean to me.” He opens his door and walks out.
I stare after him, eyes dipping down to his perky ass.
What the fuck have I gotten myself into?
* * *
Mac and Lark drive me to get my things. Vette had a call, so he stayed behind. I was tempted to say we’d wait for him on the off chance I might be able to overhear his conversation. That would have been suspicious, so I didn’t protest.
Streetlights flood into the interior of their SUV, lighting the small space. A section of Lark’s hair is braided near the front of his face. The rest of his black hair hangs loose, sprawling over his shoulder with more volume than Pantene could ever give me. Mac is driving at a leisurely pace, pointing out some of his favorite restaurants as if we’re old pals. I try to pay attention, but my mind is racing, moving as fast as the vehicle through the streets.
How long will it take to get the job done?
There were a few cameras inside their house. If I sneak around, I’ll have to be smart about it. Lark has a laptop case at his feet, and it seems as though that piece of equipment never strays too far from him. I know from Edmund’s house he’s the tech guy, which begs the question: What other security measures do these alphas have in their home?
Mac parks behind my stolen car. He leaves the headlights on and rests one hand on the steering wheel, turning toward me. “Don’t try anything stupid, mmkay, Kitten?”
“You have to stop calling me that.” I glare at him and hop out, grabbing the keys that are miraculously still in the pocket of my jean shorts. I reach in and grab my purse from the car. Atticus and my things are at the hotel.
“We can chop it, if you want,” Lark says.
I jerk up in surprise, hitting my head on the roof. “Fuck.” I get out of the car and rub the spot. “You could have warned me.” I turn and catch his eyes jumping from my ass to my face.
The streetlight above us is like a spotlight on a stage. I can already imagine the story. I’m the wounded heroine, and he’s a villain who’s terrifying but alluring at the same time. Our story is bound for tragedy, and even though I’m the main character, I can’t seem to stop heading toward the explosive ending that’ll end with us all messed up. A smarter actress would find a hero. A knight with a blinding white horse who can stop Laurence, but that’s the thing. I’ve never liked horses. I don’t need a knight. I need a villain with a fast car and even faster bullets.
I prefer my men to be wild and reckless, and these alphas check every box.
Lark studies me, light green eyes filled with distrust, but there’s a spark of interest hidden in the depths of his gaze as well. “It’s stolen. You should let us chop it.”
“And be without my own car?” I arch an eyebrow.
“You can borrow one that’s not hot. Driving this around is asking to be pulled over.”
I bristle. “I changed the plates.”
“And when the owner of the car you stole plates from reports them stolen?”
“Listen, I don’t appreciate your sense of logic right now. I’m trying to keep a little bit of independence.”
His lips kick up. “You can borrow one of ours. This one can’t come back to our house, anyway. The ACPD likes to monitor our house from time to time, and we don’t need this car sparking interest.”
