Page 51 of Nest of Thieves
Lark groans. “I forgot all about that with everything.”
Me—I’m everything. Still not sorry.
“I need to wash my hands and then I’m ready,” he says.
Lark’s gray T-shirt has a few grease stains, and the basketball shorts he’s wearing aren’t in much better shape. The outfit works for him, though. He’s hot even with his hair tied back and covered in grease.
“Come on, Kitten. Lark can ride bitch.” Mac walks toward his corner of the garage.
There are three options. I hope we get to take the McLaren, but that wouldn’t make sense with the three of us. Mac unlocks his truck and opens the passenger door for me. I step onto the rail and climb in, stiffening when Mac’s hand finds my ass.
“Sorry. Thought you needed help.”
I sit and narrow my eyes on him. “Sure, you did.”
His eyes dance with mirth. “Are you mad?”
Actually, I’m not. I’m annoyed as hell. He’s easy on the eyes, sarcastic, hot, ripped, dangerous. Exactly how I like them.
“I’m not mad,” I say, glancing toward the sink in the far corner of the garage. Lark is furiously scrubbing his hands. “This can’t happen, you know that, right?”
Mac rests his arm on the top of the truck and leans into my space. “Why? Because you’re scared?”
“I’m not scared.” I spear him with a look. “We’re enemies.” I move my attention out of the windshield, ignoring how his proximity makes my skin tingle.
“And if we weren’t enemies? Could this happen?”
I don’t respond. Lark dries his hands and starts to walk over.
“Your friend is coming,” I say with a blank look.
Lark raises an eyebrow as he reaches for the back door. “Everything okay?”
“Yup. Can we go?” I reach for the seatbelt, but Mac grabs it first, drawing the belt across my body. His knuckles brush my chest, and I bite down hard on my cheek to keep my reaction in check. Gooseflesh ripples over my skin. Copper fills my mouth.
Mac clicks the buckle and grabs my jaw with his fingers, turning my head. “Don’t hurt yourself.” His voice is growly and demanding. The alpha bark hits me, and I instantly release my cheek from my teeth, swallowing the blood-filled saliva.
“Don’t alpha command me.”
He releases my chin and nods. “Don’t hurt yourself and I won’t have to.” Closing my door, he circles the hood of the Raptor.
“Are you okay? Mac can be intense.”
I glance over my shoulder at Lark. “I’m fine.” Macisintense, but I’m not scared. I’m worried I’ll forget what I’m here for and get swept into his madness. Mac is the type of guy you’d drink the Kool-Aid for. The kind of man you know will be the death of you, but not even that will stop you from following him down to the pits of hell. Yeah, Mac is intriguing in all the wrong ways, and my adventure seeking side is all too thrilled about what sort of havoc Mac and I would make together.
* * *
Pony has a rat tail, which in itself isn’t that odd, but in combination with the windbreaker outfit he’s wearing, it’s weird. I kid you not, he’s wearing a bright purple and blue jacket and matching pants. The black T-shirt underneath doesn’t save the look. Pony steps out of his car like he’s leaving a photo shoot at a Sears in the early nineties.
Mac parks in the nearly vacant lot of an abandoned shop. A car in the far corner has newspaper covering the windows. Someone is guaranteed to be living there, but they’ve blocked the view out and in. Mac and Lark don’t seem the least bit worried about the person.
“Excuse me,” Mac says, reaching toward the glove box. The light on the inside of the compartment shines on a handgun.
My stomach tightens. What sort of meeting is this?
Death isn’t exactly something I’d been prepared for.
“Don’t worry. It’s just a precaution. Pony works for an acquaintance of...our boss. It should be fine.”
