Jack - Perfect Burn: Hot Crime Romance

by Alice May Ball

  It seemed odd that he would feel he needed to repeat any of that. In the corner of my eye, I saw Ratke shift his weight.

  “I thought the idea was to not get caught?” Ratke said out of the side of his mouth.

  “The plan is the idea.” Gregor’s voice was low and menacing. All through the briefing I wondered why he had wanted me to stay.

  The men all grabbed Kevlar vests and strapped on belts with ammunition packs. There were coveralls to go over the top, then balaclavas and shades. They were going to look like the dark blue nightmare version of Pillsbury Doughboys.

  “Well.” Gregor turned me around with his big hands and patted me on the back like an uncle. “You got the car here in time for the big show. Tynie has just under an hour and a half to make it run like a Formula One race car.” He was watching my face as he talked.

  “I had a look on the news for that traffic jam. Couldn’t find a thing about it.” He squeezed my shoulder one more time before he let go.

  Then his grin thinned as he peered into my eyes.

  “There’s something you need to tell me about, I think.”

  He was bound to want to know more about why I got there late. How it was that Tynie and I got separated. There was no way that I would let Gregor know anything about the slave girl. Nothing that could let him get anywhere near her.

  My fists clenched and unclenched as I stretched my mind, trying to think about what Tynie would have told him. Tynie could have seen her in the BMW while she was waving and hammering on the window. There was no way for me to know.

  If Tynie saw her, then Gregor would have got that out of him along with everything else. Was there any way Tynie could have known, or could have even guessed about the van, about where I would have put her? He knew that I had the van, he made the key for it, but he wouldn’t know where it was. No, I was sure he couldn’t know that.

  Gregor’s face lowered as he looked into my eyes. His voice lowered, too. “How is it that Tynie was here more than half an hour before you. Hmm?”

  “He told you about the traffic. There was some kind of a big emergency. Lots of cops, helicopters and the whole fucking nine yards. It was all snarled up and I got off the highway because I thought we’d be held up.”

  “We?”

  I said, too quickly, “I thought Tynie would be able to follow me off.”

  “You didn’t phone?”

  “My battery was dead.” His look told me he didn’t believe that for a moment.

  “But still it took you so much longer to get here.”

  “Yeah, I got off at a kind of a stupid turn and it took me a while to get here.”

  Gregor’s nostrils flared. “You got lost?”

  I shrugged. “Okay. What of it?”

  “You sure you weren’t lost in conversation?”

  “What?” I thought about her, but I wasn’t going to let him see that.

  His face moved nearer. “You didn’t stop for a chat with someone?”

  “No, Gregor.” I stood firm. “You think I stopped to talk baseball or something? The fuck are you talking about?”

  “All those cops around.” His chin rose, like he was sniffing the air around me. “You didn’t stop to have a word with some of them?”

  “No.” That was fucking insane. But it did fall into place. Gregor thought that because I was off the radar for a few minutes, I was selling his ass out to the cops.

  His jaw set as he looked at me. My mouth was dry.

  “There’s something,” he said. “I’m sure of it. If it’s something you have to tell me before the score, Ryan, it had better be now, okay?” He hardly ever used my name.

  Quietly, I said, “There’s nothing, Gregor.”

  His eyes darkened. “No, Jacker, there is something.” His eyes narrowed more as he studied my face. “It’s something that’s important to you.” His nose was almost against mine and his voice was a whisper.

  “It just better not turn out to be important to me.”

  He moved back to stand behind Tynie. He put his hands on Tynie’s shoulders from behind. His grin made him look nastier than ever. His voice followed me down the garage.

  “Be very careful about the things you choose not to tell me.” My stomach felt hollow.

  As I pulled up the door and was about to duck under it, he called out again, “Don’t forget. Another one. Just like this one. About two days. I let you know”

  This would be a perfect time to say, No, Gregor. I don’t want to do this anymore. Tynie was looking at me at last, and I could see him willing me to say just that. Gregor’s face just didn’t look ready to hear it. He was still holding on to Tynie and still grinning.

  And I just nodded as I left.

  Soon, Gregor, I thought, and I felt it. It really wouldn’t be pretty, but I’d be happier when it was done.

  Chapter Six

  WHAT DO YOU KNOW, the thief kept his promise. About an hour after he’d left me there, he actually came back.

  In the time I’d sat in the back of the van, only one other vehicle arrived. When I heard voices, I wondered if one of them was him. My car thief.

  There was a guy, I guess maybe the voice sounded about the right age, but it didn’t have that quality—what was it? The thief had some kind of a dark, caramel tone. He sounded sarcastic, but kind of playful all at the same time. And dangerous.

  That must have been about half an hour ago. This time, an engine roared up, tires squealed as it parked alongside then the engine shut off. Even before the car door clicked open, I knew this was him.

  The door opened. Boots hit the floor and the door slammed shut. The boots jingled like his.

  A few heavy steps stopped by the side door of the van. Then he waited a moment. I imagined him looking around, checking to make sure there was nobody watching. I wondered if he’d made sure the van was somewhere out of sight of the cameras. Maybe this parking lot didn’t have cameras. That could be why he chose it.

  The door slid noisily open and the light was a shock to my eyes. He clambered in and the glare made a halo around him as his big body filled the space. He pulled the door shut again behind him. I covered my eyes and slid back, tighter against the wall of the van. More into the corner as he came near.

  He crouched over me as I hunched in the corner, apprehensive. The scent of him filled the space. As my eyes got used to the darkness again I saw how he was looking at me.

  He was smoking-hot—there was no doubt about that. Rough and raw, and bulging in all the right places. A big, sexy guy with a big, sexy slouch. Black hair, just ruffled enough. Nice clothes, and he wore them with perfect carelessness.

  Yeah, I was sure this car thief was a big hit with the ladies. And yes, I did notice how his black jeans hugged his tight ass. And how the denim at the front was worn and strained from trying to hold back his hard ridge.

  The black shirt-tail dress that I wore was loose. I was aware of it being quite open at the front as he leaned over me.

  When I looked up in the half-light, his eyes were fixed on mine. That was pretty charming, I had to admit—when you could see in a guy’s face that what he really wanted was to look down at the rhythm of the tops of your breasts as they rose and fell, but he had enough class to keep eye contact.

  In spite of everything, I had to give him that.

  He sniffed and his eyes flashed. I gulped. To break the tension, I said, “I’m on the news.”

  I showed him the little tablet. His eyebrow went up. The rolling newsfeed was about all I’d been able to get it to show. I wouldn’t have given it much attention, if it hadn’t had my picture on it. It had cycled through about a dozen articles, mostly local news stories, and came back to show my picture again and the headline, Girl Missing From Braxton Mall Taken in Stolen Car.

  “They could have got a better picture of you,” he said. Cute.

  My cheeks prickled as I told him, “That one’s really old.”

  “You’re a lot better-looking than that.”

 
Well, the photo was one that my mom took, and she’d insisted that I use it for my high school yearbook during senior year. So yeah, it wasn’t a big stretch to think I might be a bit better-looking than that picture. Still, I liked that he was trying to be nice.

  “Haley,” he said and looked at me. “Nice name.”

  As he said it I felt a glow inside. And then I caught myself.

  A car thief who had kidnapped me by accident, then kept me locked in a van while he went off to who knew where for who knew what. And here I was, glad that he tried to be nice. Stay focused, Haley, I told myself.

  While I held the tablet up, the look on his face changed as the screen flipped to the next story. I looked back at the tablet. Massive Bank Raid Downtown. I’d seen it a couple of times.

  Something registered on his face. Dimples appeared as his jaw tightened as I looked back up at him.

  Right then, I realized. It was obvious. “They’re the people you stole Aileen’s car for.”

  “Look,” his eyes hardened and he said, “I’ve come back for you, and I’m going to get you out of this.”

  “I’m only in it because you kidnapped me.” He was raising his palm towards me in a “whoa” gesture. I knew he was going to tell me again that he didn’t kidnap me or that he didn’t mean it, or some other such BS.

  “I can’t believe,” I said, “you can be so relaxed about having committed a serious crime without even intending to do it. What kind of a life do you live?”

  Tension was getting the better of me. I had to find a way to hold that back. Stay in control, Haley.

  His eyebrows arched in an expression of discomfort. He spread his hands and said, “I haven’t hurt you. All I’ve done is taken up a little bit of your time.”

  That much was true. His eyes held mine for a moment, and all I wanted was to be lost in his gaze. For time to stand still, for the world to go away, and to be held there in those deep pools.

  His voice was a low rasp. “And I’m still glad to have met you.”

  “Well,” my voice jumped, and I said without thinking, “let me say the pleasure’s been all yours. I’ve been held captive in the back of a cold van for the better part of an hour.”

  “You don’t look too bad for it.”

  Was he flirting? Was he hitting on me? I wanted to slap him. That thought coursed through my veins like a hot current.

  “Anyway,” he said, “you didn’t try very hard to escape.”

  That was it. I slapped his face. I didn’t even know I was going to do it.

  The red print of my fingers glowed on his cheek for a second. The sting of his stubble on my hand burned a lot longer. Inside I was tense and ready to rage.

  “How do you know what I did or didn’t do?” And then, as I said it, as I formed the words, the answer was sinking into my stomach. It fell slowly like a sheet while that grin stretched a little wider.

  I sensed it. I knew what was coming.

  “The door wasn’t locked.”

  I said, “You’re lying.” I looked in his face and I wanted to slap him again. The backs of my eyes prickled. I knew he was telling the truth.

  “I meant to lock it,” he said with his grin tugging at the corner of his lips. His head tilted a little to one side and the light in his eyes changed, “I was sure I had locked it. Until I got back.”

  I shook. It couldn’t be true. But I knew that it was. All that time, it hadn’t once crossed my mind to try the door.

  He said, “I guess it must have been a subconscious thing.” He cocked his head to the other side now. He was near enough that I could taste his breath. “I don’t want to keep you prisoner. I just want to keep you safe.”

  I beat my fists on his shoulders. My arms weren’t even under my control. He grinned and waited while I pounded on him. I hated how good it felt.

  He just watched me, grinning, until I stopped, breathless.

  The chuckle in his voice made me squirm. “You don’t need to be pissy about it.”

  “So.” I tried my best to sound firm. I was just getting used to the scent of him. “Are you going to take me back?”

  My body tensed. I knew there were parts of me that wanted him to say no. With a little shock, I realized that as I’d been saying it, my head was shaking. I’d heard a cop once on a TV show say that when witnesses lied, they often nodded or shook their heads to contradict what they were saying.

  “Sure.” He shrugged like it couldn’t matter to him less. “Wherever you want to go.”

  As we climbed out of the side of the van, I saw the small, dark gray SUV he must have driven back in.

  “You’ve got a lot of cars,” I said. “Are any of them actually yours?” We climbed into the front of the van from opposite sides and shut the doors. As he started the engine, his hand made a sweeping gesture across all of the cars scattered around the floor of the garage.

  “I’m a carjacker.” His eyes gleamed. “They’re all mine.”

  “You think you’re so cute.” He smirked as he started the engine. “How can you be so careless around other people’s property?”

  “Are you talking about the BMW,” he said as he put the van into gear, “or did you mean you?” My heart fluttered as his eyes held mine.

  Then he sped down the three floors of ramps and blasted us out into the sunshine.

  “The owners get the insurance. All the ones that I take.” He looked over at me with a mischievous grin, “I only take really nice vehicles.” He slung the van out across the traffic. “They’re always insured. They all belong to rich people.” My chest was tight as he looked over at me and said, “People like that slave driver you follow around.”

  I wanted to say something to defend Aileen. But I couldn’t think of anything.

  “I saw you,” he said. “She was waving her hands around, jabbing her fingers in the air. You having to follow her around with your arms full of bags and you with your pretty head down. I kind of wanted to come and rescue you then.”

  “Oh.” I felt like I was going to explode. “So you’re really my knight in shining armor. You didn’t steal her car and carelessly, absentmindedly, accidentally kidnap me.” My pulse rushed in my ears. “You did it to rescue me.” I glowered at him for a moment. The way his eyes creased at their corners stirred something hot and urgent inside me. I folded my arms and looked away, out the window.

  The van leaned as he accelerated onto the highway. His driving scared me. Not screaming, white-knuckled scared—more snatched-my-breath-away hard staring shock. Not even so much because it was fast, but because it was so skillful. So purposeful. In his hands the vehicle was like a weapon.

  Every time he turned the wheel, it was a hard, precise movement. Exact. He drove the van almost as fast as he had driven Aileen’s BMW, and that was pretty fast driving.

  I glanced down at the little tablet. It showed the same dozen developing news stories. My picture still came up every minute or two. The networks would talk about nothing else until the next fire or scandal or skateboarding pet, and then my picture would be lost with all the other forgotten stories. News was always urgent, until it wasn’t.