Page 60 of Nest of Thieves
“They have nothing to do with this.” He wouldn’t, would he?
What kind of question is that? Of course, he would.
“Tick, tock, Jo. Their lives depend on you.”
The threat to my family hits me square in the chest. He knows my sister means the world to me. He knows and I know that the last threat is the one that hooks me. It’s the one that has me nodding and smiling as though nothing is wrong.
“I’ll get the job done.”
He leaves without another word. As soon as the front door closes behind him, I collapse against the bookshelf and suck in ragged breaths. Thatmotherfucker. I have to warn Tori. Racing out of the library and up the stairs two at a time, I rip open my door and shoot off a text.
Jo: It’s me. I’m safe.
Wait. Shit, I can’t tell her without having to explain everything. And everything is a lot.Hey, sis, by the way, I’ve been working as a criminal for the last five years, and I was going to rob a bank to run away, but that went to shit and I ended up having to steal the money back from these alphas. They came after me and took the thirty-three-million-dollar ring I was stealing for my boss, so now I’m trying to get the ring, and my boss is threatening to kill you all if I fail. Oh, also, hope all is well.
Yeah, that wouldn’t go over well. Scrubbing my hand over my face, I release a long groan. This is not how things were supposed to happen. My phone pings with a reply.
Tori: What the crap, sis? I’ve been trying to call you. What happened?
Jo: Nothing good. I’m not coming back. Are you okay?
Tori: Fine, only worried about you.
Jo: Don’t worry about me. I’m a survivor.
Tori: Not gonna give up.
I chuckle at her automatic reply. She’s so in tune with me, even though we’re so far apart. My chest tightens with worry, but I swallow it down. I can and will get that ring back. I have to. I set the phone on the bedside table and flop back onto the mattress, scrubbing my hand over my face and digging my fingers into my hair.
So, sleep with them.
Fucker. I bang my fist into the mattress and growl. I wish I could rip Laurence’s dick off. All things considered, it could be worse. He could have killed me without letting me explain. I have a chance.
I’m determined not to let it go to waste.
* * *
Tires screech to a halt in the garage. I perk up in my seat at the kitchen counter, setting my cup of tea aside and sliding off the barstool. Someone shouts, but the sound is too far away for me to understand whatever is said. I grab a butcher knife before walking to the door that leads to the garage. Laurence is long gone, but his visit left me rattled and revisiting memories that are better left alone.
I stop in front of the door. More voices. A grunt of pain. Then a loud shout.
Did someone follow them home?
Did someone break in?
I take a solidifying breath before yanking the door open and rushing inside, scanning the room for the threat. The door to the med room is open and the light is on. I creep toward it, still searching the large space for threats.
“Fuck, Doc!” Mac says.
“Stop whining and I’d be able to get it out faster,” a chastising voice replies.
“He’s still bleeding,” Lark says.
I step into the doorway, eyes widening at the crimson stains covering Mac, the medical table, and Doc trying to dig something out of Mac’s forearm. Lark and Vette are covered in specks of blood too.
What the hell happened?
“He’s moving too much,” Doc says. “Hold him down.”
