Midnight Heist (Outlaws Book 1)

by Katherine McIntyre

  “I’ve got to see this.” Alanna elbowed John in the side as she took the seat next to him. He reached over to flick her on the nose, grunting when she slammed her fist into his ribs seconds later.

  “Kids, stop fighting,” Scarlet reprimanded as he leaned against the edge of the table. He wore a pressed button-down and linen pants as if he hadn’t been running around with them last night. The fucker looked way too refreshed. Scarlet met his gaze. Ah, the news they were waiting for.

  He guided Dan over to snag a plate and some bacon and eggs before they joined the rest at squeezing on the one side of the table. Everyone’s elbows jabbed into each other, but no one gave a damn, focused on the breaking story.

  Torres Industries had been infiltrated last night, and while the police cleared out the intruders they found some damning evidence on the CFO’s desk of illegal activity, an account listed with deposit amounts, which was enough to obtain a warrant for his computer. Once they did, the cops discovered a lump sum of fifty thousand dollars of the company’s funds deposited into a shell corporation, Renmark Industries. This was one of many irregularities found on his desktop, leading to years of mishandled funds between him and Renmark. He’d be facing criminal charges.

  “A round of applause to the brilliant Dan Torres who had his own sister phone in an anonymous tip to the cops that someone had been trying to steal files from Brennerman’s computer,” Grif announced, clapping a hand on Dan’s shoulder. Pride warmed his chest at the stroke of brilliance. “If he hadn’t, we might be waiting a bit longer before they uncovered Brennerman’s dirty deals.”

  Scarlet and Alanna lifted their cups of coffee in tribute.

  “Here, here,” John called out. Dan blushed furiously and stared harder at his plate. The man was too adorable.

  The picture of a red-faced, blustering Phil Brennerman getting led off in cuffs was one of the triumphs of Grif’s morning. One of many, matched only by the moment he showed up to Nevarra’s to deliver the funds owed.

  “Wait, fifty thousand was the amount I planned on paying you guys as a finder’s fee for exposing him…” Dan trailed off. He glanced to Grif, who couldn’t resist a smile.

  “When Scarlet got to the files, he needed to make some adjustments,” Grif said, passing a knowing glance to Scarlet. He had his gloating expression on, the cocky one that he donned whenever he pulled off something tricky.

  “The Ezekiel Protocol is a maneuver we prepared to make sure we’d get paid either way. Brennerman had enough to tag him in his files, but we had a far better opportunity in our grasp,” Scarlet explained, his arms crossed. “So, I took an advance on the funds you were going to give us.”

  “He deposited those funds into a dummy account Leo set up, one that brought down Renmark Industries in the process, a shell company of Marco Nevarra’s,” Grif finished the explanation, his finger tap-tap-tapping on the table. “Not only is Brennerman going to get locked up, but we delivered a hefty fuck-you to Nevarra and his cronies, yet we can claim immunity since their partnership wasn’t public knowledge. We were just doing a job.”

  “Damn, so that’s why you pulled the maneuver?” Leo said, shaking his head in admiration.

  “You clever, clever bastards,” Dan murmured, wonder gleaming in his eyes. “What about your own take in the heist though? Didn’t you need the money to pay Nevarra back?”

  “That’s where our Scarlet pulled out all the stops,” Alanna jumped in, stabbing the eggs on her plate. “He might’ve rerouted our original take into Brennerman’s accounts, but the excess funds the old asshole squatted on in one of his other accounts? That got siphoned into ours. A whopping five hundred thousand to be exact. Meanwhile, Scar covered our tracks entirely.”

  Dan let out a low whistle. “I knew he was bad news from the day I started at the company. Good goddamn riddance.”

  John clapped. “Bravo, Scarlet. A job well done.”

  Scarlet winked and swept his arm forward as he bowed.

  Grif chewed on a piece of bacon, the salt exploding across his tongue. “We got paid, but we also got payback.” Dan’s leg brushed against his under the table, bringing a grin to his lips again.

  “Ugh, are you two playing footsie now?” Alanna complained. “You just hit my toe. Stop being so disgusting.”

  “I’ll second that,” John responded with a teasing glint in his eyes. “I’m two steps away from puking up my eggs.”

  Grif lifted his middle finger, waving it at both of them. “You’re lucky we’re not fucking on the table. You can handle a little PDA, assholes.”

  Dan almost choked on his coffee, a couple of drops flecking onto the tabletop. His cheeks turned ruddy. He’d get used to their lively breakfast conversations and fast.

  “Taking the day off, Torres?” John asked. “Unless you’re planning on heading in late to rally the troops.”

  “I’ve already set up appointments to talk to the police later today,” Dan responded. “I’ll head in tomorrow to begin tying up loose ends, but I think I’m going into early retirement after my short stint as CEO. I still have contacts at the university to see if I can pick up where I left off on my studies.”

  An offer leapt to Grif’s lips, but he chewed it back. Too much had happened over the past couple of weeks, and he wanted to see where this thing between him and Dan Torres headed.

  “Well, shit,” Leo said. “If you’re leaving the company, I’m bailing out too.”

  “Had a taste of the criminal life and can’t go back?” Tuck teased.

  Leo’s lips tilted in a smirk. “What’s to say I haven’t been there for a while now? Hacking’s only fun if you’re breaking the law.”

  Grif reached under the table to settle his palm on Dan’s thigh. Dan looked at him, his expression unadulterated sunshine as his eyes crinkled around the corners. Grif lifted his mug of coffee with his other hand. “A toast,” he said, drawing the attention of everyone at the table. “To new friends, regular breakfasts, and robbing the reaper one more time.”

  Alanna, John, Scarlet, and Tuck raised their respective glasses. “To robbing the reaper one more time.”

  Dan and Leo lifted their mugs. “To new friends.”

  Grif settled into his seat, watching the table before him as his Outlaws dissolved into their normal bickering while Leo and Dan joined in. Sun streamed in through the slats in the windows, the rays glinting off the chrome surfaces in the kitchen and the slick surface of their kitchen table. Dust mites floated through the air like fairy lights, and he drew in a deep inhale of the salty bacon, the rich coffee, and the lingering scent of antiseptic from the bullet wounds they’d dressed last night.

  They’d survived to fight again, and they’d taken down yet another corrupt asshole, this time getting a twofer with screwing over Nevarra. Moreover, he’d completed a heist on a Tuesday and hadn’t burst into flames.

  No knocks on his door the morning after, delivering the nightmarish news. Some taut thread inside him loosened at last.

  Instead, he sat at the kitchen table eating breakfast with his family. They might’ve taken a different shape from the one he knew as a kid, but he treasured each of these individuals just as much. And beyond his Outlaws, he’d found something rare in Dan. He spotted it from the moment he met the man, even if he hadn’t been able to place what he’d sensed.

  What he felt for Dan Torres wasn’t any tame camaraderie or connection. The attraction between them was a volatile, explosive thing, the sort that would either destroy or remake them. Yet they’d stepped through the fire together, and on the other side he saw all their potential spread out before him. It was blinding.

  Dan placed his palm over Grif’s and squeezed. The day he lost his parents, he’d convinced himself he’d forever be alone, but somehow, Grif Blackmore had cultivated a community of his own and met a man willing to brave his chaos to chase after something real.

  Thirty

  The bright lights were blinding, and the constant flashes irritated Dan about five minutes
into this press conference. Even the suit felt restrictive after he’d returned to wearing the jeans and flannel from his graduate studies days. Dan adjusted his cuff links, hoping the reporters had gotten their fill from the relentless stream of questions he’d been answering.

  Three weeks had passed since they’d executed the heist. Grif and the Outlaws had paid Nevarra back the very next day. He no longer had any hold on them—or any concrete proof they were the ones who’d screwed his shell company over. Doncaster and Kirklees hadn’t cropped back up again, but Grif had assured him the longtime rivals were roaches who’d reappear at the next opportunity.

  Phil Brennerman would face trial, and Dan was well-prepared to testify against him. His father was on edge from the investigations, even though they’d managed to focus the attention on Brennerman and Nevarra’s dealings through everything. Dan had shown up to Torres Industries increasingly less, and when he broke the news to his father that he was leaving at the first Sunday dinner, Dad raged.

  Dan left.

  At least, until Mom calmed him down, and he returned at her request to hash things out like adults. Either his dad accepted him as he was at this point, or he would move forward without him.

  The solution they’d come up with was perfect.

  “In summary, due to the indiscretions that our CFO committed under my watch, I feel it best I step away from the company,” Dan spoke, barely able to see the reporters and others sitting in the stands with the glare of the spotlights. “I think our employees will find the new CEO a suitable choice.”

  A few reporters tried to cut him off, but Dan lifted a hand. “I’ll ask you to wait. Any further questions will be fielded to Vanessa Torres, the new CEO of Torres Industries.”

  Nessa stepped up, looking every inch the cutthroat businesswoman in her Ralph Lauren business suit and Harpy Red lipstick. Her black curls were pinned back, and she gave him a grateful look. Dan didn’t need the thanks. His sister had been born for this role—she’d been wanting the job for years now, and he was happy to hand it over at last.

  Nessa had been true to her word and never asked about what he’d asked her to do, though she cast quite a few more scrutinizing glances at him. Someday they might crack open that tome, but they both had far too much going on to delve in now.

  Dan clapped a hand on Nessa’s shoulder and squeezed. “Go get ’em,” he mouthed before striding off the stage. He stepped through the back to avoid the clusters of reporters and TV stations trying to capture the news. He’d been fielding questions for weeks, and he hadn’t been lying when he said he was ecstatic to hand the reins over to his sister. Ever since he’d made the decision to quit Torres Industries, Dan could breathe again.

  He strode out into the late afternoon sun, and a gunmetal grey Bugatti zoomed across the back lot. The tires screeched as it whipped around to a halt, and the passenger window rolled down.

  “Hey sexy, want a ride?” Grif called, his eyes gleaming in amusement. The man’s long blond hair brushed across his forehead, threaded with gold under the sunlight, and the jeans, white T-shirt, and leather jacket combo highlighted the man’s stunning body. Dan’s lips quirked. He headed for the sleek, powerful car and the sleek, powerful man inside.

  “I’m not supposed to accept rides from strangers,” Dan said as he clicked the door open and slid inside. “But what the hell. Apparently, I’m more addicted to danger than I thought.”

  Grif leaned in and grabbed him by the nape to draw him closer. His lips crushed against his, and Dan sank into the kiss at once, letting out a sigh of relief. The man’s touch melted him every time. Grif pulled away and stepped on the gas, the car peeling across the asphalt, away from this place.

  “How’d you survive the vultures?” he asked, casting him a glance.

  “I can’t wait to be out of this thing,” Dan said, peeling off his blazer and tossing it into the back seat. He rolled up his sleeves to the elbow and settled against the leather seats, drawing in the scent that dosed him with comfort.

  “Not fair,” Grif drawled. “I’m supposed to be the one undressing you.” A couple of weeks in, and Dan may as well have been living at the Outlaws’ penthouse with the amount of time he spent over there. For someone who had been so averse to sharing his space, Dan was starting to see that when Grif went in, he went all in. The man was beyond attentive, more affectionate than he would’ve ever expected, and the more late-night balcony conversations they had, the more the glacial expression in his eyes thawed.

  “Where are you heading?” he asked, watching the turns Grif made, different than the roads he would’ve taken to head back to the penthouse.

  “We’re making a quick pit stop,” Grif said, whipping around corners with a liquid smoothness that defied Chicago traffic. “It’s too gorgeous of a day to be cooped in HQ, and I want to go on a walk with my boyfriend.”

  Dan still flushed every time the word was said out loud. He’d been longing for something real, a seed that could grow into an oak tree with time. With Grif, he might get the chance.

  Within minutes, Grant Park stretched before them, the manicured, violent shocks of green standing out against all the asphalt and concrete. Grif pulled into the parking lot and flipped the engine off.

  “Let’s go stretch our legs,” Grif said, hopping out of the car.

  Dan slipped out after him, jogging to catch up since Grif had already started walking. “Anyone ever tell you that you’re bossy?”

  Grif flashed him a heartbreaker smile. “That’s why I’m the boss, gorgeous.”

  The sky was a sapphire blue with smears of pastel clouds scattered throughout. The wind brought the crisp scent of water traveling his way, and Grif threaded his fingers through his as they strolled down the walking path. Up ahead, the Buckingham Fountain spurted jets high into the sky, the pale green statues chalky under the intense rays. The water glittered.

  Any remaining tension from the press conference leaked out of him while they walked along. The closer they got to the fountain, the louder the burbles grew, a soothing sound. Grif guided him closer until he reached the fencing and found a spot to lean on.

  “I’ve been meaning to ask you this the past couple of weeks, and I couldn’t find the right time,” Grif started. The edge to his voice made Dan’s nerves flare to attention, but he remained quiet, listening. “This isn’t a dealbreaker, but it’s something important to me. These past few weeks we’ve been together, I’ve felt closer to you than I have with anyone in a long, long time. And if I thought you weren’t a good fit, I’d still want to try to make things work between us. In no way am I asking you to give up your studies either.”

  Grif sucked in a sharp breath. He tugged at the leather jacket he wore as he stared at the sky. Dan’s stomach flipped, but he let him continue.

  “You’re smart, you keep me in check, and your knowledge with machines and sensors from your degree is something we could use in the field. I formed the Outlaws to take down corrupt corporations, and Brennerman was one of many. We have a lot of work to do, and I’d like you to be a part of it.”

  Dan’s eyebrows drew together. The beginning of the speech had sounded a whole lot like a breakup, and he’d already gripped onto the fence to brace himself, the cool metal imprinting in his palm. “Wait, are you asking me to join the Outlaws?”

  Grif pressed his lips together and nodded, avoiding eye contact. Like this, he bled a vulnerability he only let out around Dan. “Yeah, I’d love to have you on the team.”

  The breath rushed out of him. Relief crashed in next. Dan let out a shaky laugh and shook his head. “You need to work on your pitch, babe. I was pretty sure this was a breakup speech.”

  Grif slid his fingers through his hair. “Look, I can throw speeches all day long when it doesn’t matter. Spinning lies comes easily. This sort of shit, I’m terrible at.”

  “You mean shit like telling the truth?” Dan teased, loving the fact that Grif tried in the first place with him. He leaned against the fencing and mulle
d over the question for a moment. Being a part of the Outlaws. In all honesty, part of him had been waiting, hoping, Grif would ask. As terrifying as the night of the heist had been, the thrill infected him like a virus he hadn’t been able to shake.

  And he’d be able to apply his engineering work in a whole different way with the Outlaws. Grif wasn’t asking him to give up his dreams—he offered to enhance them. Dan had been longing for change, silently screaming inside his prison at Torres Industries, and Grif had come in like a summer squall and overturned the trees at the roots. Being a part of the Outlaws was the exact adventure he’d been searching for.

  Dan nodded—until he realized Grif still squinted at the sky, trying to act unaffected. His chest warmed at the sight as he rested his hand over Grif’s. “I’m all in, Blackmore. I want everything.”

  Despite the vibrant green leaves surrounding them, the gorgeous fountain in the distance, and the picturesque view of the skyscrapers looming over Grant Park, Dan’s focus was on one thing.

  Grif looked at him at last, and the breath caught in Dan’s throat. The look in those blue eyes was dizzying, like standing at the edge of the shore to watch the sun rise. His hair glinted like gold, and Dan memorized the raised skin of the scars decorating his arms, the nick on his cheek, the one above his eyebrow. This time, Dan closed the distance between them.

  He pressed his lips to Grif’s and sank into the connection threatening to engulf him every time. Steady palms encircled his waist, and he melted against him. The scent of amber, of leather, and of crisp water flooded his senses. Grif’s power wasn’t just from his presence alone or the words he spun. The man inspired the people he held dear to become greater versions of themselves, to fight, so they’d never feel helpless again.

  As they deepened their kiss, the spark flared between them, the connection that had blazed bright when they’d first met and matured into a deep and lingering promise waiting to be explored.