I stare at the beautifully berserk man in disbelief. “Trust,” he reiterates.
Another strange moment passes between us. A connection juiced with uncertainty and expectation. With hope and captivation and pheromone-driven chemistry. It’s a rush we both feel.
I agree. “Let’s do this.”
“Pop the lever on the side.” He shows me, brushing his strong hands over mine. “Then push the button.” Both our fingers are layered on the smooth plastic. My heart beats wildly walking so close to death. To being one tiny movement away from total destruction.
Declan lets up on the pressure, and we both finally breathe. The adrenaline is mounting minute by minute. It’s a high unlike any other. Trust me, I know. I’ve smoked and sniffed every substance under the sun. But situations like this? The stakes are higher. The uncertainty, the unknown. It elevates you to another level. You’re gambling with your life, your most valuable possession.
And that’s completely fine by me.
I slide out of the truck, treating the detonator like a newborn baby. I slip it carefully into my back pocket and proceed to suit up. Declan pulls a black duffel bag from the back seat, and I retrieve my bookbag. The contents of the two bags are nearly identical. Guns, knives, burner phones, painkillers, and extra clothes. The assassin essentials.
I strap a holster around each thigh and secure a Glock in each pocket.
Declan sticks a pretty sweet Beretta into the back of his waistband and a miniature into his boot. We’re losing daylight fast, so now’s the time to strike.
We look over the plans one last time, me memorizing where I need to drop the case and where Declan is heading to grab the cash.
We’ll be separated for a good number of minutes based on the size of the warehouse and where Declan wants the explosive.
I have a thousand issues with this plan. So much can happen. So much can go wrong. We’re essentially waltzing in blind. We have—correction—I have no idea who or what waits for us inside. Declan seems confident in his plan, but if I’ve learned anything in this business, it’s expect the unexpected, andalwaysshoot to kill.
We head inside the dim building, the smell of must and metal prominent in the air. Declan motions to me silently which direction I should head off to and what direction he is headed in. I memorized the plans, so I’m fairly confident in where I’m going. Everything seems to be quiet. To be calm, and for me, that always raises a red flag. I’m hoping it’s just paranoia trying to get the best of me, and in the end, we can get in and get out without an issue. Wouldn’t that be just fucking peachy? I won’t hold my breath.
My footsteps echo softly in the cavernous room as I hurry to my destination, making sure I keep vigilant awareness of my surroundings. I drop the briefcase box next to the farthest wall, right where Declan wants it. It’s covered under a shadow, so it blends into the background beautifully.
As soon as I turn to head back, I hear gunshots ring in the distance. Lots of them. From multiple types of firearms.
I book it back in Declan’s direction, knowing nothing is ever effin’ easy.
As the roughed-out room the money is supposed to be stored in comes into view, so do the half-dozen men who have opened fire on Declan.
There’s no time to think, only time to act. Sticking to the shadows and utilizing the perfect timing of the twilight, I pick off as many shooters as I can. The darkness acting as both my friend and my foe.
Popping off multiple rounds in a span of precious, life-threatening seconds, the gunfire dies down, giving me, and Declan, a minuscule moment of opportunity.
“Run!” I scream, providing enough cover for Declan to escape the Swiss-cheesed room.
I backstep toward the exit, raining down fire. One of my clips dies, and a bullet grazes my right arm. It feels like a forged blacksmith arrow rips open my skin.
I falter from the sudden sear of pain and nearly trip over my own feet in the midst of the chaos. But surprisingly, Declan catches me before I hit the ground. He drags me out of the warehouse, emptying an entire clip as we barely escape. Once outside, I scramble back to my feet and run like hell to the truck, bullets still blazing from the warehouse.
“Hit the button,” Declan barks, and I unconsciously reach for the detonator in my back pocket. It all happens at lightning speed. My heart is pounding, I’m perspiring from the adrenaline, and I can barely pull oxygen into my lungs. I don’t even have time to prepare for the blast; I just hit the button and say a silent prayer. Moments later, a massive ball of fire catapults me through the air, and that’s the last clear thing I remember.
* * *
I feel my body shaking.Is it an earthquake? It’s a chore to open my eyes, and my ears are ringing louder than an emergency alarm.
I blink, trying to focus my vision. I’m disoriented as a face comes into view. A handsome face, with bright-green eyes and chiseled cheekbones.
I’m shaking again, his muffled voice cutting through the disorder in my mind.
“Hey? Can you get up? You need to get up.” I hazily interpret what he’s saying before I finally realize where I am and exactly what the fuck happened.
“Too much C-4.” I choke on the thick smoke as the world starts to speed up again.
“Shut up.” He lifts me off the ground and shoves me into the backseat of the truck. All the movement makes me queasy.
