“A heist theme song,” I whisper back. “How about ‘Today’ by The Smashing Pumpkins?”
He considers this for a moment, his eyes scanning our surroundings while his features pinch in contemplation. “You know Billy Corgan wrote that song about a day when he was suicidal?”
God, I freaking love that he knows music.
“True.” I beam. “Maybe it doesn’t fit since neither of us has any demons.”
My sarcasm is not lost on him, so in the midst of the shadows, weapons drawn, crouched to pounce, we live. For this one moment, Ty and I live, which is all I’ve ever wanted. The reality isn’t a fairy tale per se. And outfitted like a cat burglar—all-black attire, a sleek Kevlar jacket, and hair tucked up tight in a beanie that is folded down to be a ski mask, which has comfortable openings for my eyesand mouth—I’m not exactly nailing the princess role anymore. But the low chuckle seeping from the depths of him is … everything.
“We’ve got some pussy convo near a grocery-getter eating up our goddamn minutes,” Gage barks into my ear. “Stand down.”
Since we have another beat, I explain my reasoning. “I like the dichotomy of that song. I don’t know exactly what he meant, but it seems he was broken but fighting. Grieving but grateful for the day. Hope weighed down by hardship, but still blooming. The upbeat tempo and the dark lyrics, mixed with periods of whimsy. It’s this. It’s us.”
He rolls his head toward me, nodding on a ragged breath as he pulls his hat over his face. “It’s exactly us.”
“Great. It’s playing in my head.” I smile, partly because all of life’s grand events deserve a soundtrack and because I want Ty to see that I belong. That no matter how dark this life is, I won’t stop shining for him.
“All clear,” Liam announces. “It’s go time.”
“Roger that,” Ty responds before tugging my wrist. “On me, Little Moon.”
We scurry through the alleyway, skulking in the shadows until emerging beneath the bright glare of the parking lot lights and ascending the steps to the main entrance of an office building. Ty whips out his handheld RFID code reader/writer, which looks like a chunky phone. The guys showed it to me earlier. They have a slew of fascinating toys.
He steadies it in front of the alarm system, taking a reading before enabling it to write that code onto a key card, similar to what the employees use to enter. But when he swipes the card, the numerical pad beneath it blinks.
“It’s a two-step entrance,” Ty says into the comm. “The card codes are backed up by a password. Could be an employee birthdate. I’m sending the encrypted code to you. Can you match it?”
“No names are listed for this business,” Liam mutters, the pecking of his search filtering in during the pause. “Looks like they haveemployee numbers. Give me a minute.” Seconds tick by in the eerie stillness. My heart rate ratchets higher, and dread courses through my veins until Liam’s confidence breaks in. “Try this password with the code you just sent—94117 pound 283.”
Ty swipes the card again prior to punching the numbers in, and the keypad glows green with a beep and a click of the lock. “We’re in.”
Swinging the door open, he guides me inside. There’s a landing before a bi-level setup. We can either go up or down. He pushes me against the wall, instructing me to stay as he flicks on his headlamp and evaluates the bottom floor.
After only a brief inspection, he heads back up to me. “That’s storage. What we need is upstairs.”
When we reach the second floor, Ty’s arm flies out, curling around my waist, his focus trailing three small boxes adhered to both sides of the entrance walls.
“Fuck me. Security beams.” He slides his backpack to the floor, digging as he hisses into the comm, “What the fuck is this place? It’s got a three-beam barrier.”
Impressive. I would have never noticed those.
“That’s fucking overkill for that dingy little building,” Gage volleys. “Got your smoker?”
“I don’t think so,” Ty returns, still rummaging through his pack with a slight hint of panic. “I packed light, so we had room for the hard drives.”
“What’s a smoker?” I ask, studying the room beyond the security beams. It’s dark, but there are small lights peeking out from shelving units that line the walls. Those must be the server cabinets the guys told me to expect.
“We can’t avoid the beams if we don’t know where they are. So, we use a smoker to see them, but none of us could have predicted this shithole would be guarded like a goddamn fortress.”
“I’ll leave Gage to keep watch and head back for one,” Liamoffers. “It’ll put us fucking tight, but maybe we can run a diversion for the cleaning crew.”
“No need,” I say, and Ty’s eyes flit up to mine before I drop my bag. “I have something we can use.”
“What?” he asks, hopeful and frenzied.
Knowing this will be received with skepticism, I avoid eye contact and simply grab my handy tools from the front pocket of my bag. “I’ve got a joint.”
Ty rubs his jaw, but a ghost of mirth veils his face. “You brought a fucking joint on a job?”
