Page 31 of Nest of Thieves
Orion buckles. “Stop, stop, stop. We’ll tell you.”
Yeah, I’m not buying that.
“Sure, you will.” I sit on Jay’s shins to prevent him from kicking.
“Get off me.” Jay thrashes, but I brace myself and press the gun to his junk.
“Do you think it hurts if I do it here?”
“Shit. Shit. Fuck. Don’t. No. No. No. No.”
“I’m sorry, none of those words tell me where your bosses are.” I sigh and shake my head. “Such a shame to do this.” I ever so slightly adjust my grip on the trigger.
“They’ll be here in an hour! They called earlier. Please don’t. Please.” Jay even whimpers.
I tip my head to the side and pat his cheek. “There, there. That wasn’t so hard now, was it?” I remove the staple gun from his crotch and put it back where I found it.
“You’re insane,” Jay says.
Turning on my heel, I cross the floor and crack my palm across his cheek. “Don’t be rude.”
“Rude? You’re the one who tied us up!”
“It’s business, baby. Don’t take it personally.”
A loud car drives by and I stiffen, whipping my head in the direction of the street. The garage door is still open. I side-eye Jay before standing and using the control panel to close it. I move in front of the fan to cool off. It’s going to be hot in here with the big door closed, but the side door gives me a better advantage. It’s a little after three in the afternoon. If they’ll be here around four, I have plenty of time to prepare.
* * *
A sleek silver Land Rover Sport passes through the gate about forty-five minutes later. I had to gag the men I tied up to keep them from alerting the alphas. The rock music is turned to the max volume, pumping through six giant speakers attached to the walls of the garage. More noise means less chance of being caught or succumbing to an alpha command. Before they park, I race to the warehouse and light the fuse of the 100-piece roll of firecrackers inside of a beat-up car.
There were a few cabinets full of fireworks—most probably illegal within city limits—and while I don’t understand why the alphas deal in illegal fireworks, they’re perfect for my plan. I hightail it away from the car and hit the garage opener, tucking myself into the tight corner I found earlier. I quickly put on earmuffs and check that I can still see outside. This position gives me the best sight lines.
The first firecracker sounds like a distant pop, and a small burst of orange comes from behind the windshield before the next one starts. Reverberations bounce off the walls of the steel warehouse and smack into me, the sound amplified by the acoustics in the garage.
A small fire ignites on the fabric of the seats in the car, another useful distraction. Vette appears first, stopping right outside of the garage door. He’s saying something, but the putrid smoke filling the air makes it impossible to read his lips. Lark races into the garage, veering toward the fire extinguisher situated on the wall a few feet away from me.
Undoing the buckle of the holster at my hip, I grab my stun gun and wait. My heart pounds in my chest, and I hold my position, taking slow, measured breaths. I slide down the wall and into a squat, carefully peeking out from behind the wall. Lark is so focused he doesn’t notice as I aim for his ass. He reaches to undo the latch around the body of the extinguisher and I fire.
He screeches and his legs give out. Five seconds later, he’s unconscious. I holster the gun and slip out of the corner, shooting my gaze toward where Vette stands. He’s edging closer to the car on fire, his phone to his ear. Mac is nowhere in sight.
That’s not good.
The firecrackers stop, but the music is still blaring, loud enough to muffle any sound I make.
I clench my jaw and grab Lark’s wrists, dragging him back toward a support beam where chains and zip ties wait for him. Restraining him is easy. By the time I’m done, Vette’s off the phone. He stares at the fire for a few seconds before lifting his gaze to search the space.
Holding onto my earmuffs, I drop to my stomach and roll under a car. The next roll of firecrackers waits for me. I grab it and army crawl out from under the car, lighting the fuse and tossing the pack inside of the vehicle before racing back to my corner. I’m thirteen steps away when the pops start.
Dropping to my knees when I get back to my makeshift base in the corner of the warehouse, I press into the space. Smoke tickles my nose, and I cough, sucking in more polluted air. My chest tightens as another cough threatens me. I put on one of the face masks I found next to the car paints. Blinking, I squint and fight off tears.
I knew the smoke would cause problems, but this was the best option for separating them. I cough into the face mask, clearing my lungs. Vette races to the extinguisher, and before he can so much as lift his hand, I shoot him in the hip with my stun gun. He drops like Lark did, and I drag him to a separate support beam, tying him up as the firecrackers cease and silence falls over the garage. I finish the zip tie around his ankles and glance around.
It’s too quiet.
The music. I narrow my eyes and slip off the earmuffs and mask, knowing I’ll need all of my senses if I have any chance of finding Mac. He’s here somewhere. I rest my back against the beam next to Vette and scan the hazy room. The air isn’t nearly as stifling now that the firecrackers have stopped and the afternoon sunlight illuminates the space, but there are plenty of places to hide. My corner was simply the best spot. Mac knows this building better than I do.
I run through the possibilities, clenching my fingers around the stun gun. The sound system controls are on the other side of the building. He’s found the men I restrained. If he took their gags off, he knows I’m here. There’s a probability that another woman has it out for them, but I’m betting Mac will know it’s me. After all, he told me to find him.
