The Last Heist (Pretty Thieves Book 1)

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The Last Heist (Pretty Thieves Book 1) Page 18

by Samantha Keith

She slipped the tail of the silk tie beneath the animal’s collar and motioned Milo to lead it into the closet. Milo’s scowl deepened, but he obliged, following her with the animal balancing awkwardly in his arms. She knotted another tie to the one around the dog’s collar so that it would have a bit of slack, and then secured it to the rack holding Titus’s pants.

  “That’s a good idea, but I’m not sure it will help much once it barks and alerts the house.”

  She crouched and rubbed her temple. Milo’s muscles bunched a little less over the now docile dog, which looked as if it just wanted some affection. She reached out and scratched its ears. Its growl deepened, and the animal snapped its head toward her hand. She jerked back.

  Milo shook his head. “Nice try, but I don’t think its that kind of dog. We need to get the hell out of here.”

  “Maybe no one will hear it. We’re so far away from the servants’ quarters that by the time they find it, we could be off the property.”

  Milo nodded. “We’ll close the door. That should stifle some noise.” He inched away from the dog, keeping his hands around its muzzle. “Get ready to run.”

  She backed through the door, and Milo tore away from the dog and closed the closet door. The dog let out a deep bark.

  “Let’s go.” His hand circled her elbow and towed her through the bathroom.

  Click, click, click, click

  The hurried sound came from the hallway. They froze on the bedroom’s threshold.

  Serena whipped her head to Milo. “What’s that?”

  A silhouette appeared in the doorway, and the blood drained from her head.

  The animal barked loudly three times, bared its teeth, and charged.

  “Fuck!” Milo widened his stance and moved his upper body to shield her. The animal lunged at them, and Serena plowed her fist against her mouth to stifle the scream that ripped from her throat. Milo let out a hiss of pain as the dog clamped its teeth around his forearm and shook as if it had a chew toy.

  Blood heated Serena’s veins, but Milo’s struggle with the animal keened through the sound. The other dog’s barks shrieked through the bathroom. Each wail echoed off the last. Her breath wheezed out in sharp pants. She had to do something before the dog ripped Milo’s arm off.

  “We need backup! Milo’s being attacked by a dog. It won’t be long before the guards find us.”

  “On my way,” Brock said.

  “Can you get the dog off? Wedge something in its mouth?” Peyton’s frantic questions hammered at her.

  Serena twisted against Milo’s ironclad hold around her waist. A tall, thin soap dispenser sat next to the sink. It was far too wide to wedge in the dog’s mouth, but maybe he wouldn’t like the taste of soap. She grabbed the glass cannister, reached around Milo, and pumped half a dozen squirts into the animal’s mouth.

  It snorted and coughed then pulled away from Milo to gag on the floor. She hooked her arm under Milo’s and towed him to the bedroom. His arm hovered in the air and he winced as he shook his hand.

  “Thank god for leather. Fuck, that could have been bad.”

  She pulled open the balcony door, not in the least relieved by his statement. She wouldn’t be at ease about the bite until she saw it for herself. They stepped onto the concrete slab.

  “You go down first. If you’re hurt—”

  “Freeze!”

  Serena’s muscles turned to stone and she squeezed her nails into Milo’s bicep. Milo’s hand moved next to her side and she sucked in her breath, willing him not to grab the gun at his back and get them both shot in the head.

  “Don’t fucking move!” The man barked. “Both of you, back inside. You robbed the wrong motherfucker’s house.”

  She took in Milo’s profile with her peripherals. The jagged edge of his jaw flinched. “Do what he says,” Milo said, loudly enough for the man to hear.

  The bag of diamonds burned a hole in the pocket of her jacket. She inched her fingers up her thigh toward it. If she could reach it without being noticed, she could throw the bag over the rail and hopefully Brock would find it.

  “Hands up and turn around!”

  Shit. There was no time to be subtle. She jammed her hand into her pocket, but the man seized her wrist from behind her and whipped her around to face him. Milo lunged at the guard, but he froze when his gaze landed on the gun pointed at Serena’s chest. Panic fired up and down her body as she stared at the barrel of the weapon. The guard’s hold tightened on her wrist until she cried out.

  She narrowed her eyes at him. Deep brown eyes bore into her. Then a flicker of recognition widened them. “I know you. You’re that realtor. Holy shit. Titus is going to have a fucking field day with this.” He shifted his hold from her wrist to her bicep. “Move inside.”

  Her stomach lurched and she rooted her feet to the concrete. She wouldn’t, couldn’t go with him. The panic that had been radiating across her limbs let loose. She yanked her arm, but he held fast. Milo dove for the man’s knees and took him down. The two of them landed at her feet with a thud.

  “Get out of here! Now!” Milo barked as he connected his chest to the guard’s and locked his arms in place.

  The guard’s hand shook, but he still held the gun, and he raised the mouth of weapon until it connected with Milo’s side.

  Crack

  Serena stumbled backward. Her palms jarred against the rough surface of the concrete. She searched the darkness. A gun had gone off. Who had been shot? Terror exploded in her chest and a deep, gut-rattling scream crawled up her throat. Milo and the man lay unmoving on the balcony. Hands seized her under her armpits and hauled her to her feet.

  “Go!” Brock barked. She stood frozen, her focus locked on Milo’s body harder than the rottweiler’s grip had been on his arm. Clouds blocked the moon’s glow, making her eyes work overtime to identify who was injured. Her gaze followed the line of inky fluid that had sprayed from the spot where the men lay on the balcony. Blood and marred flesh were spattered on the glass door next to her. The air in her lungs turned to icicles and her chest ached with the need for oxygen. Tears soaked her lashes, and she pressed her fingers to her lips on a sob. No, he couldn’t be gone. Please, god . . . She took one shaky step toward Milo’s body, but Brock’s hold prevented her from getting closer.

  A grunt sounded from the pile of tangled male limbs. Then Milo’s hands pressed into the pavement, and he shifted into a plank position.

  “Jesus, Brock. You shot him in the head.” The complaint rode on a gravelly voice.

  Brock made a guttural sound and gagged. “It wasn’t me. Peyton did it.” He nodded in the direction of the landscaped yard below.

  “You’re welcome.” Peyton’s cool confidence rang through the earpiece.

  Milo got to his feet and his attention fell on her. He rushed toward her and caught her face in his palms. “Honey, are you all right?”

  Numbness crept over her throat. She’d thought he was dead. Shot. But he was here, holding her. She forced a nod, but her head felt unsteady, as if it stood on a strand of spaghetti.

  Brock swung his leg over the railing. “We need to get out. I’ll go first, then Serena.”

  Milo nodded. His hands loosened their grip on her face, but she caught his wrist before he could pull away. “You’re not shot?”

  “No, I’m fine—other than the dog bite. But I don’t think it penetrated the leather.”

  Brock whistled sharply from below, and Milo moved her to the railing.

  “There they are! Stop them!”

  “Shit,” Milo hissed, his gaze moving to the hallway beyond the bedroom. His hands caught her by the waist, and he hefted her up so she was sitting on the railing. She lunged for his shoulders and pinched the material of his jacket between her fingers, but he kept her ass settled on the bar and not in his arms, where she much preferred to be.

  “What are you doing?” she whispered. The sound was strangled.

  His dilated pupils locked with hers, and the tension around the corners of
his eyes sent a quake through her. A muscle in his jaw jumped. “Trust me.”

  She swallowed.

  “Ready.” Brock’s voice carried over the night.

  Milo moved his hands to her wrists and shoved her off the balcony. Her body fell, but his death-hold on her wrists snapped her weight in the air, jarring the muscles in her shoulders.

  She shook her head. “No!”

  His eye twitched, and he let go. She flailed but plummeted like a stone. The thickness lodged in her throat blocked the sound of her scream.

  CHAPTER 15

  Serena’s wide, furious eyes stayed locked on him until Brock caught her on the ground. Jesus Christ, he’d thrown her off a fucking balcony. The stomp of feet barreling toward the door got his ass moving.

  He didn’t wait to evaluate her landing. Bracing his hand on the rail, he stepped over it, crouched down, and wrapped his hands around the bars. Then he dropped his feet and gravity pulled his weight toward the ground, making the tendons in his arms burn. Dangling above the ground and not seeing where he’d land sent tremors up his spine. A light flicked on in the master bedroom, and he let go.

  His feet connected with the grass, sending him into a deep squat. His already overstretched hamstrings cried out. Needles shot through his joints, but he forced himself to stand.

  “Are you all right?” He dragged his gaze over Serena.

  She nodded. He grabbed her hand and followed Brock’s and Peyton’s retreating steps. He didn’t bother chastising her for not running. His legs ached with every movement. They reached the fountain, and he sandwiched Serena between Brock’s back and him while Brock timed the cameras.

  Milo craned his neck over his shoulder. Lights glowed on the second level of the house.

  Fuck. They had to get the hell off this property before the guards came downstairs and released the dogs.

  “Now,” Brock barked.

  They rushed from their hiding spot. Milo stayed behind Serena until they made it to the wall. He turned to her. “You’re going first. Once you hit the ground, run. Don’t wait for us.” He slid the keys into her coat pocket and zipped it shut. “If you don’t see us behind you, get the hell out of here.”

  He didn’t want to open his mind to the possibilities of what Titus would do if he caught her.

  The breeze caught her hair, making small flyaways dance. She paled. “I’m not leaving you.”

  He crouched down and held out his hands. “Do it now before the dogs come.”

  She placed her foot in his laced palms and clung to the wall. He lifted her and watched as she swung her perfect ass effortlessly over the top. Next, he sent over Peyton.

  He braced himself for Brock’s weight. “Go.”

  Brock stepped into his hand and Milo boosted him up the wall.

  Woof! Woof! Woof!

  His skin turned icy and sweat collected at his brow. Brock extended his hand from where he balanced on top of the wall. Milo jumped and grabbed it, locking his hold on Brock’s forearm. The sound of the dogs’ tearing up the grass reached his ears. He slapped his fingers on the top of the wall and Brock hooked his arm under his bicep.

  Woof! Woof! Woof!

  Brock cursed; his face pinched with fear. Milo grunted and dug his toes into the wall, scaling the last few inches. He swung his knee, ground it into the stone, and sat up. The dogs’ paws crashed against the wall. His chest was tight, but he didn’t stop to catch his breath. He swung down and landed at the same time as Brock, and they sprinted through the trees.

  “Where’d they go?” His gaze took in the trees around them as fear pierced his heart.

  “There!” Brock pointed straight ahead, and Milo located Serena’s slim form several paces ahead of Peyton. She must have heard their approach because she stopped and turned to face them. From here, he could see the rise and fall of her chest and the wind picking up the strands of her hair. Peyton stopped too and lowered her hands to her knees. Milo didn’t slow down. If he could have screamed at them to keep running, he would have, but there wasn’t a chance in hell he’d risk alerting anyone to their location. They had to get to the truck. He pounded his feet into the soft earth.

  Serena brought her fingertips to her chest. “Thank god. I didn’t know what I’d do if—”

  “Freeze!” The metallic click of weapons echoed in the space surrounding them. Milo skidded to a stop next to Peyton and raised his hands.

  Fuck, fuck, fuck!

  They were caught. Had it been a trap? Serena’s eyes widened as she looked at him, and her lips parted as she raised her hands over her head. Shapes moved from the brush, and three flashlights swept the night. Less than twenty feet stood between Serena and him, but the space seemed to stretch farther than the sea. Six men flocked around them, blocking every possible avenue of escape. His body ached to stand in front of Serena, to protect her, but moving an inch could be fatal.

  “Don’t move,” said a booming voice from beyond Serena’s back. Sandy blond hair peppered with gray and white tapered from the man’s head to his goatee. His skin was crinkled like beat-up leather. His large, dry lips stretched into a smirk. Milo knew the voice. The face. The man . . .

  The air grew cold with the force of an ice age. Serena’s slack lip trembled, and her face was paler than the moon above them.

  The man moved closer to Serena’s back, and Milo stomped toward them.

  “I said, don’t move!” Six weapons were pointed at Milo’s body. Then the man lifted a gun to the back of Serena’s head. “Take one more step and I’ll blow her head off.”

  Milo’s muscles bunched. When he got ahold of that motherfucker . . .

  “Milo.” Peyton’s pleading tone slowed his breath.

  His muscles spasmed with the effort it took not to charge the sonofabitch. Next to him, Brock clicked his tongue, drawing back Milo’s rage further. He couldn’t lose it. Serena pulled back her shoulders and lifted her chin an inch.

  “What are you doing here, Uncle Sebastian?” Distaste coated her voice. Gone was the terror that had been etched on the delicate lines of her jaw only moments before.

  The gun moved away from her head, and the man pressed his lips to her smooth strands. He closed his eyes on an inhale. A tidal wave of anger, hot and fast, shot through Milo’s body. Sebastian would pay if he touched Serena. He’d see to that. Serena turned her head, and her eyes closed on a swallow, as if she was fighting the urge to be sick.

  “I’ve missed you, Reena.” He circled her, and Milo snapped his gaze to Brock. If the bastard didn’t get the fuck away from her, he was going to crush Sebastian. Bullets be damned. Brock gave one shake of his head and his hand sliced through the air near his neck.

  “You fucked me, girl. You cut me out of the Alban gig and then you had the nerve to hide and change your name. You can’t escape this family.” He laughed and widened his stance, blocking Milo’s view of Serena. “Hand over the diamonds and you can walk. For now.”

  “I didn’t cut you out of anything and you know it. Alban’s house got raided that night and I barely escaped. I severed ties with you because I’m done being manipulated.” Her voice became shrill and Milo’s nostrils flared. The tendons in his legs coiled, ready to spring at Sebastian if he retaliated.

  “Dani’s been kidnapped, Uncle Sebastian. The diamonds are her ransom.” This time, her voice dropped to a plea, cutting Milo’s heart. Serena never showed weakness, and if she was doing so now, it was because she was ready to break.

  Sebastian took a step back. His shit-brown eyes landed on Milo and his lips melted into a smirk. “Hard to believe Milo Baxter is standing here. I’d be careful, honey,” he said to Serena with mock concern. “He’s a backstabber like his father.”

  Milo lifted his chin. He stood three full inches taller than Sebastian. “Make up your mind, Sebastian. Any second and the dogs and guards will be on us. The cops will be here any minute too. I’d rather not be around when that happens. Either help your niece or be the piece of shit uncle you’ve always be
en.”

  Sebastian froze. Color stained his pale cheeks. He worked his mouth and spat on the ground at Milo’s feet. Then Sebastian advanced on Serena, snagging the side of her jacket.

  “I’ll take the fucking diamonds. Dani’s been a pain in my ass her whole life.” He dug into Serena’s jacket pocket, yanked out the velvet bag, and dumped some of the contents into his palm. His mouth split, revealing his uneven teeth. “Thanks, doll.” He shoved the handful of diamonds in his pocket, then did the same with the ones remaining in the satchel, and tossed the empty bag at Serena.

  “How did you know we robbed Titus?”

  Milo tensed. Jesus. They’d had the job planned a day and a half. There weren’t many ways word could have gotten out.

  Sebastian’s grin lit his eyes. “To be honest, I didn’t know about Dani. Not that it would have changed anything. I knew you were back in the game when I saw you leave The Fainting Goat the other night with Milo.” His jowls bounced. “Small world. But I knew our paths would cross again one day. After that, I had a guy tail you, and he called when you rolled up and hid your truck near Titus’s. I didn’t think you’d be so ballsy to hit him, but here we are.”

  Milo opened and closed his fists. Following someone around like a conniving serpent was exactly something Sebastian would do. He’d waited for their defenses to be down and then struck. Serena didn’t say a word, but her lowered lids blazed fire.

  Raging barks coming from the rear of the house made Milo’s skin turn cold. It wouldn’t take long for them to circle the perimeter of the property. He kept his hands raised, but his feet tingled to tear away from where he stood. If they didn’t get out before the dogs came, they’d be torn apart or held until the cops got there.

  Sebastian winked. “I’ll have you shot if you move an inch.” Headlights bumped over the dark earth and an SUV pulled out of the shrubs. Sebastian climbed into the passenger’s seat, two men got in the back, and another SUV rolled out behind it.

  “Good luck.” Sebastian waved out the window and the vehicle peeled away.

  Woof! Woof! Woof!

 

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