Midnight Heist (Outlaws Book 1)

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Midnight Heist (Outlaws Book 1) Page 15

by Katherine McIntyre


  He stroked the handle of the pistol tucked into his waistband as he reached for the knob. Grif tugged the door open.

  Dan Torres stood there in a forest green button-down and black slacks, looking as gorgeous as the day they met. The guy had no casual setting. He’d slicked his hair back, not a strand out of place, and his dark eyes burned with curiosity. Even so, those full lips that had tilted in easy smiles before remained firm.

  “Don’t shoot me.” A voice came from behind Dan, a lanky guy who wore a beat-up Star Wars T-shirt and jeans. He lifted his hands in defense with easy, smiling eyes and a somewhat distracted tone. “I’m just here as backup.”

  Grif leaned against the doorframe, crossing his arms as he took in the new guy who he’d spotted back at the diner. Dan watched him, his gaze saturated in a caution that hadn’t existed before. The thick glasses, graphic tee, and twitches tipped Grif off. “You’re the hacker who managed to figure out Scarlet’s work.”

  “He’s my best friend,” Dan clarified. “And he’s ignored my every attempt to keep him out of this.”

  Grif nodded. While the crew wouldn’t be happy about another new face, a man tenacious enough to track them down and show up deserved the welcome. He stood mere inches away from Dan, and already his body reacted, like he’d lit a bunch of sparklers on Fourth of July. And he wasn’t the only one. He didn’t miss the glide of Dan’s gaze as the guy soaked him in top to bottom, or the heat that still dwelled there even as it ducked behind worry.

  He crooked his finger at Dan, snaring his gaze. “Well then, let’s get you guys inside. Hope you’re ready to meet the Outlaws.”

  Twenty

  Dan had been nervous up to the minute Grif opened the door.

  A thousand and one doubts rolled through his head, only several voiced aloud to Leo, who’d reached rambling frequency. Yet once Grif appeared in the doorway of his penthouse, the nerves, the doubts, and the fears evaporated. The bedroom eyes Grif flashed him didn’t hurt, but what swayed him was the sheer strength radiating off the man.

  He’d made the decision to follow through last night when Vanessa ended up crashing on his couch. And after spending a day dealing with recalcitrant board members in the offices he’d come to loathe the most, Grif’s offer to team up had become his save point before a boss fight, the one hope he seized onto. The email he’d gotten from Scarlet hadn’t hurt either.

  Welcome to the team —Scarlet was all it said, but the hacker had attached dozens of articles all linked to corrupt politicians, CEOs, and business owners getting hauled in for their crimes. Scarlet included clippings of mystery donations to activist organizations, to individuals who’d been wronged—most of which matched with the timelines of these companies going under. It seemed like amid the chaos of the takedown, the Outlaws hacked into accounts and found their own ways to get paid. He understood the message they sent him—this was the work the Outlaws had done and the proof he had been needing to make the leap.

  They strode through a posh penthouse that somehow looked model-home gorgeous and lived-in all in one sweep. The broad floor-to-ceiling windows cast his favorite city in full view, and the fixtures were modern, chrome and angular, similar to his own place. Yet homey details snagged his gaze everywhere he went, from the sci-fi and fantasy books haphazardly stacked on shelves to the random quarterstaffs leaning against the wall, and a stack of electronic wires pouring like tentacles from several milk crates.

  He should be buzzing with nerves right now, but as Grif led him through the penthouse, a serene calm trickled over him, along with a brush of interest at this brand-new world he entered.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” Grif asked as he led them through a hallway. “A beer? A cup of watered-down sugar?” The teasing note in his voice curled in Dan’s stomach, remembering the ribbing he’d gotten for the way he doctored his coffee.

  “I’ll take the cup of sugar, thanks,” Dan responded, surprised at how easy their interchange flowed. “But I probably need the beer more.” He should’ve been guarded after the revelation yesterday, but instead it felt like a veneer had been peeled back. This was the real man he’d known existed there all along.

  “I’ll have a beer as long as it’s not poisoned,” Leo responded. Dan snorted—the man’s paranoia buzzed at an all-time high, even with one of his idols in this house.

  Grif rolled his eyes. “No worries, I keep all the poisoned beer in the back of the fridge. We invited you here. We’re not going to kill you.”

  They stepped into the kitchen, where a guy sat at his laptop, the screen’s glow reflected by his thick glasses. The man was unreasonably pretty, with expressive brown eyes and carved lips, and Dan wrestled with an irrational surge of jealousy. Leo’s jaw dropped and he strode straight over to the chrome laptop with a mess of stickers plastered on the casing.

  “That’s a beaut,” Leo said, skimming his fingertip along the table by the laptop as he scanned it over.

  The other guy watched him with an amused look dancing in his eyes. “I take it you’re Polonius? I thought I caught the signature on the files when we hacked into your system.”

  Leo offered a bow, gesturing forward. “I learned from the best, Scarlet.” Ah, so that was the hacker who had won his best friend’s endless admiration. After the way Scarlet had reached out this morning, Dan couldn’t help but like him.

  Grif approached with two porters in hand, passing one over to him.

  Dan accepted, trying to ignore the spark as their fingers brushed together.

  “So, your friend’s a fan?” Grif said, tipping the bottle back. Dan couldn’t help but watch how the liquid coated those lush lips, and the desire to taste them flared to life like it never left.

  “My god, you should’ve heard how excited he was when he found out Scarlet had hacked into our systems. Like our company wasn’t at Defcon one.” Dan drank from the bottle, the smooth liquid gliding down his throat. The kitchen, with all its glossy obsidian surfaces and nickel accents, emanated a bright friendliness he hadn’t expected. The entire place felt less like a secret lair and more like a home.

  “Hackers are a weird breed,” Grif responded, his casual grin making Dan’s pulse stutter. Here, he appeared at ease, comfortable in a way the predator never seemed in public.

  “I heard that,” Scarlet said, hopping up from his seat. The guy wore a similar style to him, a neat button-down and tailored slacks, nothing like Leo’s levels of casual or Grif’s athletic store raid. “Why don’t we introduce you guys to the rest of the crew?”

  Dan found himself following before he realized he’d begun to move. Leo trailed close behind Scarlet, an infectious excitement in his eyes. Grif strode right beside him, his leather and amber scent as alluring as it had been the other night. They’d almost kissed, again, because whenever he was around the man, he couldn’t seem to hope for self-control.

  They entered the living room, which featured another perfect view of the Chicago skyline. The corduroy navy couches offset the cream carpeting covered by three or four bright purple yoga mats. A short, intense woman with stubborn lips and a mousey nose twisted and turned on the floor. She didn’t bother to look at them as she launched into another stretch, her ponytail whipping with the movement. Another guy with heavy curls and softer features grunted while he launched into another rep of sit-ups.

  Dan recognized John at once and offered a nod. Grif’s fingers skimmed over his shoulder. The slight touch sparked his synapses, a reminder of just how good the man felt pressed against him. Grif guided him to the biggest couch and then took a seat next to him, as if staking a claim. Even though his mind grew tangled with shoulds, the last few days had been such a waking nightmare he’d cling to any reprieve he could find.

  Grif’s presence happened to be one of those things.

  “Guys, meet Dan and Leo,” Grif said, hunching forward as he jerked a thumb in their directions.

  The girl on the floor arched an eyebrow, the pendulum of judgement swinging clear in
her gaze. “So, this is the piece of ass you lost your mind over?” Her eyes settled on him, and she shrugged. “He’s damn pretty, I’ll give you that. Watch out, Scar. This guy looks like he primps as much as you do.”

  Dan opened his mouth, her bluntness slamming into him like a brick to the forehead.

  Grif let out a weary sigh, scrubbing his face with his palms. “That’s Alanna. Don’t wait for an apology—you’re not going to get one. She and Tuck are our stealth crew.”

  The guy who’d been doing sit-ups pushed up from the ground and offered a nod, smoothing back his curls. “Welcome to the Outlaws,” he said before heading over to the loveseat where Leo perched and slumping in beside him. When Tuck pulled off his black tank top to reveal a glistening six-pack and mop off the sweat, Dan didn’t miss the hungry way Leo scanned him over. Not like Dan could blame him. If he wasn’t sitting next to Grif Blackmore, he might be looking at the attractive, athletic guy like that too.

  However, when Grif entered his periphery, all other men ceased to exist.

  Dan had fucked gorgeous guys before, and he’d dated charmers, but he’d never felt this draw to anyone before. Being around Grif was like standing in the middle of an open field in the middle of a thunderstorm, the wind whipping leaves around, the air tense enough to drink, and the sky purpling like a fresh bruise as he waited for the lightning to strike.

  “And you’ve already met John,” Grif said. “He’s the only one who never goes under a fake alias.”

  “John Smith’s your real name?” Dan couldn’t help but ask. Knowing the truth like he did now, Dan couldn’t imagine ever thinking of them as up-and-coming recruiters for their fake company. Even so, they’d hoodwinked him.

  John shrugged, more casual in his jeans and Henley combo than Dan had seen him yet. “Why come up with a fake name when you can blend into the most common one?”

  “Let’s get down to business to defeat the Huns,” Scarlet said as he leaned back in the chair he’d claimed. “Or Phil Brennerman, in this case.”

  “What can I do to help?” Dan asked, sweat pricking on his palms at the mention of the job. “I’m assuming you need access to the building after hours.” He should feel dirty at letting thieves into his family’s business, but from the moment he’d stepped into the role of CEO there, this place hadn’t felt like his family’s at all. And since Brennerman strong-armed him with the footage he’d captured and then almost killed his sister, Dan didn’t just detest his workplace—he feared it.

  “Count me in too,” Leo said, catching Dan’s gaze from across the room. Dan’s chest tightened with relief at having his friend by his side. If anyone had earned loyalty for life, it was Leo Barnes.

  Grif stretched his legs out, but the way he brushed against Dan felt intentional, especially paired with how his blue eyes heated. Dan didn’t move away, letting the touch ground him.

  “Alanna, Scarlet, and I will be pulling the extraction. John, you’re going to be our home guy for this one,” Grif said, clasping his arms behind his head. The man’s scars grew even deeper in the dim peach lighting of this room, nicks in his cheek and corded lines around his arms. “Tuck, will you be okay for Doncaster patrol?”

  Tuck nodded. “You know I’m not sitting this one out.” He lifted his leg and flexed. “A little bullet wound won’t stop me. Besides, I owe them.”

  “Where do you want me?” Dan asked, his voice deepening with the question. The idea of letting a group of thieves infiltrate his own company was so foreign to him he couldn’t even imagine it, nor did he know what he’d be good at.

  Grif crooked an eyebrow, the wolfish grin widening with suggestion.

  Dan’s lips flattened as he shot him a pointed look back. “I’m not sitting out while you lot invade the company I’m supposed to be running,” he argued, ignoring the amused looks Alanna and Scarlet exchanged.

  Grif pursed his lips, scanning him over with a serious look for once. Like this, he could see the man’s genius flash in those Arctic eyes. “You can back up Tuck on Doncaster patrol, on one condition. The moment they’re spotted, you need to run. They’ll be slinging pistols, and unless you’re holding out on me with some secret field experience, if you stick around to fight, you’ll end up dead.”

  “What’s Doncaster patrol?” Dan asked, so many terms thrown around he could barely keep up.

  “You interviewed one of them,” Grif said. “It’s one of the groups interested in blackmailing your company. You’ll be their just to alert if they show up, nothing more.”

  Tuck offered a crooked grin. “Hell, I barely stick around to fight. Don’t like the sight of blood.”

  “Leo, would you want to play around on one of my laptops?” Scarlet asked, tapping the side of his glasses. “I could have you run point from the penthouse with John. Once I hack the computer on-site, I’ll be able to send the information to you.”

  “Are you trying to give me a hard-on?” Leo responded. “Because that about did it.”

  Tuck smirked as he glanced down to Leo’s snug jeans for confirmation. “That all it takes for you, computer boy?”

  “You should see how easy it is to get my pants off,” Leo cracked, his grin wide enough to display dimples. The man couldn’t do anything but flirt. Tuck crooked a defined eyebrow at him, returning the smile. Dan shook his head, unable to restrain his amusement even as he tried to keep his lips pressed tight. Not like he had any room to talk. From the moment he met Grif, his mind had been a one-track lane that got dirtier the farther he drove.

  “The plan’s a simple one,” Grif said, clapping his palm on the coffee table in front of him to get everyone’s attention. “We get the direct access to Brennerman’s computer that we’ve been missing and extract the information, which Torres Industries is kind enough to be sponsoring. Plus, we’re breaking into the safe. Once the job’s done and the payment’s in the bank, we can settle our debts. If Doncaster and Kirklees try anything, we’ll be there to stop them. Unlike us, they’ve got to infiltrate their way into the building. We’re getting an easy ride courtesy of the CEO.”

  For fuck’s sake, everything out of the man’s mouth sounded like a come-on. If he needed proof their one-night stand hadn’t gotten him out of his system, Dan simply needed to sit beside him.

  “Fate hates simple plans,” John mentioned, tapping his fingers on the end of the chair arm. “Guaranteed, we’re overlooking something massive. Or Dan here’s going to turn on us at the last minute. No offense,” he said with a shrug.

  Dan heaved a sigh. “Let’s be straight here, I don’t trust you, and you don’t trust me. But we don’t need that currency, right? Because Phil Brennerman is the real threat here.”

  “He’s not wrong,” Alanna said, pushing up from her yoga mat. “This is what we do, anyway, take out corporate assholes.”

  “And we agreed on fifty grand for the job, yes?” Dan asked. He and Grif had hashed the number out before, but he wanted to hear the confirmation in front of the team.

  “Sounds good to me.” Scarlet offered a reassuring grin.

  “What are you going to arm up with on Monday?” Grif asked, looking at him in with enough intensity that he didn’t just feel seen, but exposed.

  Dan’s eyebrows drew together. “You mean my doe eyes won’t pull me through on this one?”

  “God, go flirt in another room,” Alanna called out while she headed in the direction of the kitchen. Scarlet hopped up from his seat and approached Leo with his laptop, settling on the arm of the couch.

  Dan tilted back the bottle of porter he gripped tight to, and he savored the taste of the sweet, dark liquid. The condensation printed on his palms, and his pulse quickened. Grif’s gaze still honed in on him.

  “Let’s get you some equipment,” Grif said, pushing off from his couch. Dan cast a quick glance to Leo, who was occupied by both Scarlet and Tuck. Grif offered a hand up, and Dan took it, the scrape of those calluses sending a shiver down his spine. Grif Blackmore could never have been anyone as simp
le as a recruiter for a small-time business. Somehow, the sight of him like this, as the leader of a criminal organization, felt right in a way he hadn’t expected.

  When Grif let go of his hand, Dan slipped it back in his pocket. The hurt and betrayal that had shocked him so severely yesterday had dissipated more and more with every article he’d scoured over on the Outlaws’ work. Their methods weren’t pure, but from what he’d witnessed, their hearts were. And having been on the receiving end of monsters like Brennerman, he understood far too well the helplessness and fear.

  Grif led him through the hallway lined with closed doors that must’ve been bedrooms. He reached the very end and rested his hand on the knob. Grif glanced at him. “I’m going to arm you with a couple of knives and a few grenades to drop in a worst-case scenario. But I’m being serious when I say the minute Tuck catches sight of any of Doncaster’s guys, just run.”

  “You did warn me you weren’t the only one casing the company,” Dan murmured, a sharp twinge in his chest. Each revealed truth smoothed the ragged edges of pain that had emerged when he’d found out the guy he’d come close to falling for had been lying to him. “Though they didn’t go so far as to try to get in my pants over the job.”

  Grif pushed open the door and tilted his head to follow. He flicked on the light. “Sorry, my bedroom’s a mess,” he murmured, leading the way inside.

  Dan’s throat dried with desire he shouldn’t have. Except when it came to Grif, he wanted. He was greedy for every drop of truth the man offered.

  He couldn’t help the grin that rose to his face when he soaked in the man’s bedroom. Most people said those words as a courtesy, but Grif hadn’t been joking. A stack of World War Two history books teetered on the edge of the bed, several poetry books—Keats, Tennyson, and Eliot—scattered across it, and weapons lay haphazardly around the floor. Spent cigarettes littered an ashtray on the dresser, along with several empty mugs. The mess made Dan’s skin itch, but when he caught Grif’s inquisitive glance, he couldn’t help the yearning at this secret glimpse of him.

 

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