I don’t sleep. I can’t.
On Monday, I’m supposed to take the bank with Danny and Marco for three million bucks. I’ll need to be cool, sharp, and detached. Everything I am not right now.
I’ve never done a job with a weakness. A pressure point.
But now I have one: the gorgeous woman sleeping beside me, her hair spread across my skin and her hand resting on my heart.
She didn’t know what she was getting herself into with me. And now, if I do the job, I’ll be putting her in harm’s way.
But if I don’t, I’ll be letting down the boys. My crew. Guys who have trusted me for years.
I ignored my mantra, and now I’m in deep.
5
CHRIS
My phone wakesme at four in the morning.
Not my regular phone. My burner. The one I keep in the kitchen in a drawer with a false bottom. Only two people have the number.
Avery stirs against me as I slide my arm out from under her. She makes a tiny sound of protest and rolls into the warm spot I’ve left on the bed. Her hand finds my pillow, and she pulls it against her body as a substitute for me.
Adorable. Everything she does is adorable.
Three days. It’s been three days since I brought her home, and she hasn’t left. She still takes her shifts at the bookstore but comes back every evening and enters my home like its hers too, canvas bag over her shoulder, hair smelling like whatever shampoo she uses that makes me want to bury my face in her neck and never leave. I bought her a toothbrush, a mug, and a selection of teas.
My house now has signs of life in it. I’m not used to that. But I’m starting to like it.
My burner buzzes again. I cross the dark house and ease the drawer open. It’s Danny’s number.
“You gotta come get me,” he says. His voice is wired with adrenaline and regret. I hear ambient noise behind him. Distant voices, a metallic echo.
Shit. A holding cell. He’s been arrested.
“Where?”
“Central booking. Downtown.” A pause. “I…got into a thing.”
No time for questions. He’s part of the crew. I gotta get him out. “They run your prints?”
“No. Bail hearing’s at eight.”
“Don’t talk to anyone. Don’t sign shit. I’ll be there in ten.”
Hanging up, I slide into my pants, slip on a shirt, and am in the car and heading downtown.
This is bad. Danny’s name in the system means a flag. Maybe not today, maybe not even this week. But it’ll happen. And if someone connects Danny to me, or to Marco, andanyof us to the warehouse…
The chain is there, and it will lead the heat back to the bank. It’s unlikely, but it’s possible. And possible is a word I don’t like when planning a job.
I call Marco. He picks up on the first ring. “I already heard,” he says, his voice flat.
“How bad’s our exposure?”
Marco is a man who doesn’t waste words, so when he remains quiet, I know he’s thinking carefully. “I went by the warehouse an hour ago. Saw a sedan parked on the block that wasn’t there yesterday. Could be nothing. Could be…”
Shit. My stomach drops. “Make and model?”
