I step out of the elevator and back into the chaos of the ballroom setup, a small, secret smile playing on my lips. Let them have their guards. Let them have their cameras. I have a team.
The bus ride back to San Francisco is quiet. Most of the temps are asleep, exhausted from the physical labor. I stare out the window as the city lights flicker past, my body aching but my mind buzzing. I get off at the stop near the Horizon office and immediately hail an Uber to take me to the rental house.
I enter the code for the door and step inside, all the stress sliding away when I hear Marcus’s voice.
"Pizza’s here!" He calls out from the living room.
I walk in to find a scene that is becoming dangerously familiar. The coffee table is covered in open pizza boxes. Skipper is curled up on Andre’s lap in the armchair, chewing on a piece of crust he definitely shouldn't have given her. Marcus is pouring wine into glasses. They all look up when I enter with smiles.
"Hey," I say, dropping my bag by the door.
"Hey yourself," Damon grins, patting the spot on the couch next to him. "You look like you survived the Dragon Lady’s lair."
I kick off my ugly shoes and collapse onto the couch. "I did more than survive. I got eyes on the layout."
Marcus hands me a glass of wine. "Tell us."
I take a sip, letting the red blend wash away the taste of stale bus air. "The camera angles match the schematics, but security isparanoid. Graves confirmed they will have a stationary guard on the second floor office door tomorrow."
"Yeah, Damon told us," Andre says, scratching Skipper behind the ears. "Our distraction will need to be big enough to pull the guard away, not just Thorne."
"We can do big," Marcus says around a mouthful of pizza. "We can do huge. Hell, we’ll set the drapes on fire if we have to."
"Let’s save arson as a Plan B," Damon says dryly. "If Demi can get into the office, I can loop the interior cameras. But getting past that guard is the bottleneck."
We spend the next hour eating and refining the plan. But it’s not the intense, high-pressure briefing of the last few nights. It’s... relaxed. We talk about the job, but we also talk about nothing. Marcus tells a story about this time in Vegas involving a showgirl and a tiger that has me laughing until my sides hurt and I can't tell if he made it up or if it's true. Damon argues with Andre about the best way to cook a steak.
It feels normal, like a Friday night with friends, not the eve of a major heist. When the pizza is gone and the wine bottle is empty, a comfortable silence settles over the room. I let my eyes close to half mast and study them.
Marcus is sprawled out, his long legs taking up half the floor. Damon, clearing the boxes with his usual tidy efficiency and Andre is watching me back with that steady, heavy gaze that makes me feel anchored to the earth.
I think about all the cold, lonely nights I spent planning this revenge and about the emptiness that’s been inside me since my mom died. And I realize, with a sudden, terrifying clarity, that I don't want to go back to that. I don't want to be alone in the van anymore. I don't want to be a one-woman show. I want this. I want the pizza and the bad jokes and the safety of knowing someone has my back.
"Hey," I say softly.
They all look at me.
"Thank you," I whisper. "For... for being here. For not leaving."
Andre’s eyes soften. "We told you, Blue. We’re not going anywhere."
"I know," I whisper. And for the first time, I actually believe it.
I stand up, stretching my aching back. "I’m going to bed. We have a big day tomorrow."
"Need company?" Marcus asks, his grin wicked but his eyes hopeful.
I glance at the bedroom door and then back at them and slowly shake my head.
"Not tonight," I tell them, and I see a flicker of disappointment, but mostly respect. "Tonight, I need to sleep. I need to be Martha one last time."
"Sleep well, Demi," Marcus says with a soft smile.
"Goodnight," Andre adds.
I walk to the bedroom, Skipper trotting at my heels. I close the door and climb into the big, soft bed, pulling the duvet up to my chin. Skipper curls up behind my knees. I close my eyes, and sleep comes instantly. No nightmares and no panic, just the quiet certainty that tomorrow I’m going to take down the White Whale I’ve been chasing for so long and finally give my mom the justice she deserves.
Chapter 12 – Damon (February 14)
