“That’s mine,” Matt said, already reaching for it.
“No time to change.” Andy was already halfway to the door, the jacket’s hem nearly touching his knees. “Mia needs us.”
Matt caught him by the oversized sleeve. “Here.” He efficiently stripped the jacket off Andy and replaced it with a more appropriately sized one.
“Did you just ninja my clothes?”
“Let’s just say I’m a fast learner when it comes to getting you out of things, pup.”
Andy’s cheeks flushed pink even as he scowled. “This isnotthe time for?—”
“For me to be right?” Matt was already pulling out his phone, his playful tone shifting to business. “Eddie. Cars. Now.”
Andy was out the door before Matt could finish the call, nearly colliding with Bruno who had materialized from his post with Tyrone. The two bodyguards fell into step behind them as Matt caught up, steadying Andy with one hand when he stumbled in his rush to reach the elevator.
“I can walk,” Andy muttered, though he was practically vibrating with nervous energy.
“Really? Because that intimate moment with gravity suggests otherwise, pup.”
The elevator descended with agonizing slowness, Bruno and Tyrone’s stoic presence making the space feel smaller. Andy’s fingers drummed against the wall, then his thigh, then tried to murder the elevator buttons.
Eddie was waiting in the private garage with two black SUVs, engine already running. “Everything’s ready, boss.”
“Good.” Matt guided Andy into the back seat of the first vehicle, Bruno and Tyrone efficiently taking their positions.Eddie slid into the driver’s seat, his usual unflappable demeanor firmly in place.
The two SUVs cut through Vegas’ neon-lit streets in perfect formation, Eddie smoothly avoiding the usual tourist chaos while Bruno and Tyrone maintained their silent vigil. Andy was too busy attempting to merge with his phone screen, refreshing his messages every thirty seconds.
“The phone won’t ring faster if you strangle it,” Matt observed, watching Andy’s knuckles turn white around the device.
“James could have news,” Andy muttered, then swore as his phone slipped from his trembling fingers and disappeared under the seat. He lunged for it, only to be stopped by both Matt’s arm and Bruno’s disapproving grunt from the front seat.
Matt pulled Andy back upright. “Seat belt, pup. Your sister won’t thank me if I let you become a safety statistic.”
“But my phone?—”
“Will still be there when we reach the airport.” Matt’s hand found Andy’s knee, squeezing gently. “Breathe for me.”
Andy inhaled shakily. “I hate when you’re reasonable.”
“One of us has to be. And we both know it’s never going to be you.”
The convoy pulled onto the private airstrip, Matt’s jet already humming with promise. Eddie positioned the SUVs with military precision while Bruno and Tyrone immediately moved to secure the perimeter.
“They’re very… efficient,” Andy observed, watching his bodyguards scan the area.
“They’re paid to keep you alive, pet. Even if that means protecting you from your own impulsive tendencies.”
Andy’s lips twitched despite himself. “I’m not that bad.” He tensed as Eddie opened their door. “Matt, what if?—”
“Don’t.” Matt squeezed his hand. “No what-ifs. We’re going to find her.”
The jet gleamed under the airstrip lights, its stairs already lowered. Bruno and Tyrone performed a quick sweep of the cabin while Eddie coordinated with the pilot, their efficiency speaking of countless similar situations.
“All clear, boss,” Eddie reported as Matt guided Andy up the stairs.
“Mr. Caine,” his pilot, Davidson, greeted them. “Weather’s clear to LA. We’re ready for immediate takeoff.”
“Finally,” Andy breathed, making his way to a seat. Bruno and Tyrone took strategic positions—Bruno near Andy, Tyrone by the cabin door—their presence both reassuring and imposing.
