Page 28 of Stealing Blinds

Cash is on me before I can even process what’s happening, weaving our fingers together and tugging me along. “Time to go, baby.” In that not-a-care-in-the-world way of his, he calls out behind him, “Fantastic party, Peter. Always enlightening to see you.”

A grunt might be returned, but I can’t be sure who expelled it because there is too much noise.

Backup generators have low lights casting a glow all throughout the house, so it’s unnerving, but not quite haunted-mansion horrifying. I can only hope the generators did not preserve the security system. But Cash is right. Getting out is the priority. I have what I came for. I’ll work on covering my tracks when I get to the hotel.

In that vein, he picks me up fireman-style so my dress and heels don’t slow us down. Since that seems to have people giving us a wider berth, I don’t protest. Despite the amber hue that drapes the house, everyone is still on edge, so it’s chaotic as he dashes for the door with me in his arms. But once we’re outside, beneath the brilliant stars and haloed moon, fresh air fills my lungs, and he sets me on my feet.

“I have a car waiting down by the gate,” I tell him when we reach the driveway fountain that is no longer running.

“I’ll drive you. We have things we need to discuss, and the power is out all over the city.”

That lands as monumentally as he intended.

I swallow. “How do you know it’s a city-wide outage?”

“More like this corner of the city.” He flashes his dimple at me, mischievous Noire dominance crashing my night once again. “Like I said, we have things we need to discuss.”

“And you’re sure the cameras were completely wiped?” I ask as the wind whips my hair all around my face.

I might be salivating over this Ferrari Amalfi Spider. The top is down. The ride is smooth. The color is Verde Costiera, which is a mesmerizing teal green, emulating the Mediterranean Sea. Every inch of it screams luxury.

And, yes, I have plenty of money. I just don’t have the type of career that enables me to make such ostentatious purchases without the ethics of which I snagged them being brought into question. But I do love anything with a motor.

“Positive.” He side-eyes me, a smirk curling his lips.

We’re racing to freedom after I just robbed one of the wealthiest men in the world, who also happens to be one of his members, and he’s treating this like we’re on our way home from a date. He’s either delusional or … no, I’m going with delusional.

“I need more than that, so this is your chance to brag. Tell me how you pulled that off because I was having a hell of a time shutting the security system down from my phone, but you managed to cause a major power outage and wipe any footage.”

“Sly and Noire.” He winks, and against my better judgment, I laugh. “I told you I’d make a great partner.”

Realizing goading him is my best bet to get what I want, I keep the lighthearted mood going despite the anxiety knotting my muscles. “Then prove it, Noire. Spill your secrets.”

This affluent neighborhood is eerie and spiritless with most of the lights out. And yet life goes on. Traffic keeps moving. People continue partying. Plans are still being made.

No matter how dark it gets, the world manages to spin.

He veers onto an on-ramp that leads to my hotel, and he taps my tightened fist, as if he were privy to my inner thoughts and doesn’t want to jump-scare me out of my gloom. “I have a lot of connections, which I’m sure isn’t surprising. A buddy of mine is part of a group that has power companies under their thumb. I shot him a text, told him I was in a pinch, and asked—”

“What kind of pinch?” My heart plummets to my stomach.

“Take a breath, Palmer. I told him I was with one of my members who happened to be repeatedly hitting on my date, and I really didn’t want to kill the guy in his own goddamn house. Causing a huge disruption was the next best thing. So, we settled on shutting off that whole area and destroying any security footage from the prior twenty minutes.”

Maybe I should be alarmed that he and his friend so casually discussed killing Peter Fairfax as an option, albeit a less desirable one. That is one line I never cross. Taking lives is not in my job description. But I’m too hung up on the fact that multiple people are attached to this now.

He must notice how unsettled I am because he covers my whole fist with his palm. “You got what you needed, didn’t you?”

I nod because I did, and from his perspective, that should make everything dandy, but I have a bad feeling about all of this. “Who is he?”

“A friend.”

“I want a name.”

“No.” He careens off the exit, coasting to the stoplight without sparing me a glance. “I didn’t give him yours, and there isn’t a good reason you need his.”

You’d think his refusal would piss me off, but it’s actually refreshing. Most people in our world don’t have a stitch of integrity. They’d offer a name to earn my loyalty, only to stab me in the back when it suited them. This is a loose end I’m not happy about, but I prefer that to being tangled up with someone who would sell out their friend.

“Why does he think you needed the security footage wiped?”