“Wait.” Will looked at Cole, and Cole looked at their hands. After a second, he turned his palm over and tentatively twinedtheir fingers together. “I’m sorry,” he said at last. “I didn’t mean to upset you with what I said.”
It was easier to forgive with Vanessa’s perspective in his head. “It’s all right.” He gave Cole a little squeeze. “I figure if I save your ass a few more times, the lesson might even stick.”
“Shut up.” Cole didn’t let go, though. “Are we okay?”
Will had to laugh. “Aww, honeybee, don’t you know?” He leaned into Cole, pressing him deeper into the corner of the couch. “We’re the best.” Their kiss didn’t have the same heat they’d been on the verge of setting themselves on fire with earlier. This was softer, gentler. Maybe a little kinder, and harder than ever to pull back from. Will managed it eventually, though, then stood up to put some space between them so he wasn’t overly tempted by their proximity to a bed.
“All right, honeybee, let’s set up a sting.”
Two hours later Will and Desiree, dressed as custodial staff for the bougie athletica store across from the gallery, set up their perch on the second story, where they’d be able to get a good look into the gallery. Luckily the whole front was glass, to facilitate a “natural viewing experience” for potential buyers. They took turns watching through a scope as Cheyenne began to walk across the street wearing a trenchcoat and a haunted expression.
“I count two bodyguards, one asshole of an ex, and approximately ten cops in range,” Will murmured.
“Eleven,” Desiree corrected. “The guy at the stoplight has been there for five cycles now.”
“Eleven, gotcha.” They watched Cheyenne approach the front door to the gallery and take out her key. Not that she needed it,of course, but… “Howdidyou convince her to face down Marcus again?” Will asked as he watched the forger fumble and drop the key to the ground. Of course Cheyenne wouldn’t want the gallery to burn, but that wasn’t enough to motivate her to risk her life. “She’s as shaky as a fawn.”
Desiree shrugged. “I told her it was the only chance she had of getting ahead of the charges coming for her. I gave her the option of tagging in Lilith, but…no response.”
Shit. That didn’t bode well for any of them.
“Plus I put a shock collar around her thigh and told her I’d zap her every time she stopped moving for five seconds.”
Wait, what.Will gaped at Desiree, who looked unusually serious.
“Better than putting it on her neck,” Desiree defended herself. “And she’s a double-dealing piece of shit, Will. She should be grateful we’re giving her the leeway we are instead of breaking her arms and throwing her into the Hudson.”
“Goddamn,” he murmured. “Remind me never to get on your bad side.”
“You wouldn’t. Ah, there she goes. Finally.” The door opened and Cheyenne slipped inside. “Let’s listen in, huh?”
“Sure.” Desiree turned up the volume on the burner phone that connected them just in time for Marcus to come through loud and clear.
“Stop right there, bitch.”
Wow, had Marcus always been so casually misogynistic? The two cups of coffee Will had downed on the way here roiled in his stomach at the sound of his ex-something, a guy he’d once wanted to think the world of, acting like such a miserable excuse for a human being. Part of him wanted to march over there right now and punch the fucker in the face, demand an explanation for why he was the way he was. What did he hope to get out of hurting people the way he did? Out of stringing Cole along,treating Cheyenne like trash, building a house of cards with Alders? What sort of psychopath was he?
Will didn’t move. He just listened.
“You smell that?”
Cheyenne stiffened. “Solvent.”
“Yep. I had these boys douse the front of this place in paint thinner. One wrong move from you, and I set it on fire while we escape out the back. You can watch another studio go up in flames.”
“It’s a gallery,” she said petulantly. “Not a studio, and do you have any idea how many hundreds of thousands of dollars in supplies you cost me by setting my place on fire?”
“Do you have any idea how much wasted time you’ve costmeby not telling me who you made Puffins for?”
“I don’t know any more than you!” Cheyenne protested. “I had nothing to do with the job you pulled. Do these gentlemen knowyou’rethe one behind the theft of Alders’ statue?”
Marcus laughed. “You mean the one I was paid by their boss to steal as a security test?”
“So that’s his latest lie,” Desiree murmured. “It could muddle things with the cops.”
“Nah,” Will said. “He’s already played out his hand with Alders as far as he can, and it doesn’t include this cover. It’ll be easy to debunk.” He glanced down the street. “They’re not moving yet, though.”
They would soon, though, surely.
