“The feds are at the front gate!” Eliza yelled. “Six vehicles and a bunch of men in tactical gear! Get out of here!”
Britt didn’t need to be told twice.
Freedom roared to full-throated life, and two seconds later, the production bike Becky had loaned Knox did the same. Britt had already rolled aside the large Craftsman toolbox that concealed the button that activated the hidden door to the Batcave. So, all that was left to do was push it.
“Yo, Fish!” he yelled as he straddled Haint and reached for his helmet. “Open sesame, will you?”
“On it!” Fish’s long legs carried him to the brick wall and the button in half a dozen strides.
Britt didn’t need to look to know Fish had smashed the button or that the bricks on the wall had separated to reveal the yawning black maw that was BKI’s secret exit. He could see the truth in Knox’s wide eyes and Sabrina's slack jaw.
“Who the hell are you people?” Sabrina squeaked as Britt tightened the strap under his chin and thumbed on his pride and joy’s engine.
“The folks who are trying to save your ass,” he yelled above the noise of the alarm and the motorcycles’ engines. Then he walked Haint to the lip of the tunnel and was slapped in the face with the smell of wet concrete and freshwater fish.
“Agent O’Toole is talking to Manus at the front gate!” Eliza called. “She’s showing him papers! I think they’re warrants!”
Britt caught Eliza’s stare and mouthed,I’m sorry.
She shook her head, gave him a wink, and then made a shooing motion with her hand.
“Go,” Fish said from beside Britt. The man’s hand was poised to press the button and close up the wall the instant the three bikes were in the tunnel. “Don’t worry about us. We got this.”
Britt hated, absolutelyhatedleaving his friends in the lurch. But the best thing he could do was get his brother far, far away from them and the agents poised to bust into the place.
“Thank you. I owe you.” He nodded at Fish before nosing Haint’s fat front tire over the lip of the chasm.
Julia O’Toole was at the gate with warrants, proof she knew about his brother. And proof she knew he’d played her earlier.
Knowing what she must think of him had bile burning in the back of his throat.
But he shouldn’t care, right? He’d already written her off, told her in no uncertain terms there would never be anything between them. It shouldn’t matterwhatshe thought of him.
And yet, as he twisted the throttle and started down the steep incline, he couldn’t escape one simple truth. Hedidcare.
Morethan cared. It felt like there was something vast and heavy pressing down on him. And as someone who took pride in being self-aware, he didn’t shy away from labeling what that something was.
I will spend every day missing a woman who was never mine to begin with.
11
Julia sat on the barstool she’d occupied hours earlier and refused to think of the kiss she’d shared with Sergeant Britt Rollins just three feet away.
Correction: themissingSergeant Britt Rollins.
Every person lined up across the kitchen island had suddenly developed a severe case of ignorance. Or amnesia. None of them knew where Britt had gone. None of them knew his brother had visited BKI. None of them had seen the woman Knox Rollins brought with him.
In fact, none of them seemed to know much of anything besides their names, their occupations, and what they’d had for dinner.
Frank Knight, owner of Black Knights Inc., beef stroganoff.
Eliza Meadows, office manager at Black Knights Inc., Cobb salad with honey mustard dressing.
Sam Harwood, mechanic at Black Knights Inc., leftover pizza from Pizano’s and two Goose Island IPAs.
So forth and so on, including Becky Knight, Fisher Wakefield, Ozzie Sykes, and Graham Coleburn.
It was like the civilian version of the name, rank, and service numbers soldiers were taught to repeat when the enemy captured them.
