Bastian’s phone pinged with a message from the security team.
“They caught them on security cameras in the elevator before they put their masks on,” he said. “They’re low-level thieves. Been arrested for hitting some of the seedier casinos.”
“Now they’re trying to make a name for themselves hitting the bigger places,” I said.
A muscle ticked on Bastian’s icy face. “You two up for helping me teach these assholes a lesson?”
Cole and I both nodded.
Bastian had saved my life twice—although he maintained it was three times. He could annoy the shit out of me, but he always had my back, and I always had his.
Cole had saved Bastian from a bad situation once, too, back when he’d just been known as the Darkwolf. He could track his prey, silently and relentlessly for days, weeks, months. Whatever it took to take them down.
For better or worse, these men were my brothers.
“Entrances?” I asked.
“They blocked the front door.”
“I can get through that,” Cole said.
Bastian nodded. “The service entrance at the back leads into a small kitchen and bar.”
“That’s mine,” I said.
“Good. I’ll come through the ceiling.”
Bastian was former CIA. The guy could sneak in anywhere. Once, he’d been called the Reaper.
He was the last thing you faced before you died.
All of us pulled out our weapons. None of us went anywhere unarmed.
Bastian had a Glock 19.
Cole had a Springfield Hellcat.
I had a custom SIG Sauer P226. I nodded at the others, and we split.
I went to the kitchen, where the server who’d been taking care of us was loitering, looking worried.
“Stay in here and stay down.”
The young man’s head bobbed rapidly.
A door led into the kitchen of the High Rollers Suite. I quietly opened it, slid through, then closed it behind me.
I heard loud voices and yelling.
“I want everyone’s money, phones, jewelry. Everything!”
I waited a beat to give Bastian and Cole time to get into position. The familiar feeling washed over me. A cool focus that flowed through my veins. I felt connected to all my senses. Everything sharpened.
My fingers melded into the grip of my weapon. Making us one.
That should be enough time.
I whirled around the corner and whipped my weapon up.
