Seb takes it, looking down and then holding it out to me. I pull it from his grip, staring down at the picture that is on there. I can’t help but whistle because the painting—âme perdue—he wants is worth at least one hundred million dollars, but I already knew that.
“This?” I ask, stepping forward. “This is going to need some serious planning and equipment that I don’t have—”
“You have two hours to get a plan together and leave. You’ll find all of the equipment you need in there.” He points to a building behind him. “Reconvene here in four hours.” He pauses. “With my painting.”
He doesn’t say another word as he spins around and gets back into his SUV, the woman following him before they spin out of the lot.
We watch him go, aware of the eyes and ears that are around us before walking into the building and finding the place packed to the brim with everything we’ll need. Surveillance tapes, blueprints of the building, information on shifts and where the painting is being kept.
We put together a plan, all the while the four men watch us, never leaving us alone to talk. I desperately want to tell them that this doesn’t feel right, that we should get out while we can. My gut is churning, telling me that something is going to go down—I always listen to my gut. But the fact that the four men have weapons at their waists that they seem to be showing off tells me that they’re not afraid to use them.
I try to push back my unease, try to stem the overwhelming feeling that is consuming me as we leave the building and are put back into the van.
We’re all silent on the way to the gallery, and I have a feeling that they can feel something is off as well. The van is coming to a stop all too soon and I hand both Seb and West an earpiece, pushing my own in and grabbing the laptop that was in the building before pushing out and looking left and right.
We keep our wits about us as the back door opens—another thing that doesn’t feel right. If he has four men taking us and then a way to get in, why does he need us to do it?
The four guys stay behind in the van, and once we’re inside, we’re handed uniforms.
“You know the way?” the sweaty security guard asks, his eyes flitting all about the place but not connecting with any of ours.
“Yeah,” Seb answers.
We all get changed into the blue uniforms before Seb tilts his head at us and pushes through the door that leads to the overhead system that we’ll be climbing through to get to the room the painting is being held in.
Seb climbs up first, West second, and then me last, my laptop still clutched under my arm. The small enclosed space has my pulse racing, memories of being in the hole flashing in my mind. I take a second, trying to compose myself before crawling behind Seb and West. My breaths turn into pants, a bead of sweat forming on my forehead and dripping down my cheek.
“It’s too freaking hot,” I moan, stopping for a second when we get to the trap door that will let us into the room. I sit up, crossing my legs and opening my laptop before pulling the blueprint out. I fold it back and forth, making a makeshift fan and waving it in front of my face, cooling myself down as I breach the security system and turn the lock off in the room. Once it’s done, Seb and West drop through the trapdoor, their boots smacking off the floor as they land inside.
I keep track of all of the cameras, making sure no one is going to come inside as they take the painting out of the frame and place it in the case that West is wearing on his back.
“Shit!” Seb curses. “There ain’t no way we’re getting it up there.”
I stiffen. Fuck. Why the hell didn’t any of us think about how to get it out? We were so hung up on getting in and not being caught that we didn’t even think about the size of the thing.
My fingers fly over the keys, trying to work out another way out as I unfold my makeshift fan and find another route. Once I’ve found one I think we can work with, I shut my laptop, jumping down through the trapdoor.
I unfold the blueprint, placing it on the top of a cabinet. “We can go out this way,” I tell them, pointing to the way I’ve found.
“That’s the service entrance,” Seb says, shaking his head. “There’s no way we will get out without being seen, we’ll have to pass through part of the main gallery.”
I worry my lip, hearing footsteps outside of the door and panicking. “We need to get out of here now, there’s no other option, I’ve run them all. We’ll be seen but no one will think about it because we’re wearing these things.” I screw up my face, pulling the scratchy material away from my chest.
“He’s right,” West says, grabbing the back of his neck and rubbing it. “We have no choice, the longer we’re here the more likely we are to get caught.”
“But—”
“If we get caught then we’ll blow our cover, we have no choice.”
Seb huffs long and slow, his head turning toward the main door and then back to West and me. “Can you unlock it?” he asks.
I scoff, opening my laptop and then working my magic before the click of the door sounds. West puts his arms through the strap of the bag as I lead the way down the back hallway before stopping to make sure that no one is at the end. I shuffle back, holding a closed fist up to silently tell them to wait a minute.
Once the lady has passed us, I wave my arm to tell them it’s all clear before stepping forward and sticking my chest out so that I don’t look suspicious.
We pass several paintings and sculptures, people staring at them as well as a school field trip. My stomach drops when I see them, and I send a silent prayer that we can get out without causing any commotion.
We’re nearly in the clear having made it to the other side of the gallery, the door to the exit in sight before several sets of footsteps are coming toward us and then we’re being surrounded by what looks like a SWAT team, rifles pointed at us.
I hold my hands up on the air, the laptop clutched in them as they start to shout orders at us.
“Put the painting down!” the one in front shouts.
West reaches back, only hesitating briefly before he hands it to the man who is holding a rifle on him.
Everyone in the gallery stops and stares, gasps and murmurs surrounding us as another one of the men puts us under arrest, reading our rights and taking the laptop out of my hands. I tilt my head to the side as they cuff me with subpar handcuffs—handcuffs that I can get out of in two seconds flat.
I frown as I watch all four of them, taking everything in. How did they know that we had a painting? How were they warned? We didn’t trip anything, I know we didn’t. So, how do they know what we were doing?
Two officers walk away with the painting while two of them stay behind and I study all of their movements, hyper aware of the way that they move around with the weapons and the way they hold themselves.
“Listen, officer, let me explain—”
“No,” I cut Seb off.
His eyes meet mine, flashing in warning but I don’t adhere to it. “Don’t say a word.”
“What? Don’t be stupid.” He turns back to them. “I’m special agent—”
Fuck!
“We know who you are,” the one in front says, pulling his mask off his face and revealing his face, the same dickface who pushed me into the van. “Darrell knew who you were all along.”
Seb frowns, his gaze cutting to mine as he finally figures out that this man isn’t a policeman: he’s one of the four guys that brought us here.
“He knows who you all are.” He throws a folder at us before laughing and spinning around, walking out of there and reassuring the people in the gallery that all is well.
West picks the folder up the best way that he can with the cuffs on, opens it and spits out a string of curses. “Motherfucker! We’ve been played!”
Seb and I move closer, looking over his shoulder as he flips through it, seeing all of our information but more importantly, photos of us—not only from recently but from years ago. He’s been watching us and knowing exactly who we
are and what we do all along. It’s all been one long game.
“Fuck!” I shout when he stops on a photo of me and Lexi at the fun day yesterday. How the hell did he get that? “He’s coming after us.”
My stomach rolls, my teeth gritting as I clench my jaw. I need to get the fuck out of here.
My hands make quick work of the subpar cuffs before I undo Seb’s and West’s, our heads snapping up and seeing all eyes still on us. We don’t bother to be discreet this time as we run out of the front of the gallery and hail a cab to take us back to the warehouse where my car is.
I won’t let this fucker hurt me or my family; I’ll hunt him down like the prey that he is.
I do exactly what Evan says: I head back to his cabin, jump in the shower and then clean. I had nothing else to do while I waited for Kay, so I scrubbed all of the surfaces and organized his t-shirts so that he can see the slogans at a glance.
My eyes wander to the part of the floor that I know takes you down to his safe room, and I’ll admit, I’d love to go down there and explore some more, to see Evan in his environment and watch him work.
Sitting on the pullout sofa that I’ve pushed back together, a feeling of peace washes over me. This place feels like home: Evan feels like home. A home that I never thought I’d find. My eyes flutter shut as I think back to last night. I’ve been waiting for months to feel him against me—inside me. I’ve never felt so enthralled by anyone before. He’s my person. The one who I can be unapologetically me with.
My eyes open when there’s a soft knock at the door and I stand up, walking over and pulling it open, being greeted by two smiling faces.
“Ready?” Kay asks.
“Yep.” I close the door behind me, following them to an SUV outside of the warehouse and sliding into the back. I note that there are several cars missing and my stomach flips at knowing that Evan is out there. I knew a little about what he did, but knowing that he is out there right now has my nerves shot.
Kay and Kitty start talking in only the way that a pair of people can that have known each other for years. They try to include me in several conversations but I feel stilted, a feeling rolling through me that makes me uneasy. I can’t put my finger on what it is, but it’s not good. I’ve only had this feeling once before and that’s before my uncle came to tell me that my gran had died.
My breath catches in my throat at the memory and I squeeze my eyes closed, trying to push it aside as Kay pulls the car to a stop.
I open my eyes, seeing the row of shops and looking at Kay and Kitty as they spin around to face me.
“You okay?” Kay asks, her brow furrowed in confusion.
I open my mouth, about to tell her about the feeling that is flowing through me, but I decide against it. “Yeah.”
She worries her lip, her eyes flitting between mine before she nods, turning toward Kitty.
“Come on, let’s go shopping and get some food.”
They both push out of the car and I open my door, following them before saying, “Shopping?” Kitty raises her brow at me. “What are we shopping for?”
She scoffs. “Clothes… shoes… bags…” She leaves it hanging in the air while I stare at her confused.
“Come on,” Kay says, hooking her arm through mine and pulling me into the shop that Kitty walks into. “Let’s go and have some fun and try not to worry about all of the guys.”
“Worried?” I snap my head toward her, my eyes wide. “Should we be worried?”
“Nah,” Kitty says, hip-checking me. “They’re all good, they’ve got this.”
I swallow, trying to paste a smile on my face as they both start to look at the clothes hanging on the rails. I’m not close with them because we haven’t spent that much time together, but they’re the only two girls that I know; not only that but they’re also Evan’s family.
I watch them out of the corner of my eye, trying to work out how they interact. Apart from that first time with Livvy, I’ve never been shopping with women. I can’t help but wonder if I’m acting the right way.
My hands land on a pale-yellow dress, the material soft like silk. I pull it off the rack, almost in slow motion and hold it up. It’s the kind of dress that I used to dream about wearing. The thin straps are delicate and my fingers run over them, imagining what they would feel like against my skin. The split from the bottom all the way up to the thigh leaves little to the imagination and my feet automatically move toward the dressing room doors, determined to try it on.
I walk past Kay and Kitty, both who are looking at clothes themselves.
As soon as I get into the dressing room, I pull off Evan’s t-shirt, the cut-off denim shorts and pull the dress off the hanger.
Slipping it over my head, I relish how it glides over my skin, flowing over my curves but dipping into my waist and elongating my whole body. The cowl neck accentuates my décolleté, highlighting the bones and making me feel so beautiful it brings tears to my eyes.
“Lexi?” I jump at the voice, banging my elbow off the wall and cursing as the pins and needles sensation rolls down my arm and through my hand.
“Fuck.” I wince before pulling the curtain back, my eyes connecting with hers. “Yeah.”
“Wow.” Her gaze tracks down me from head to toe, eyes widening before she shouts, “Kitty!”
I wrap my arms around my waist, feeling self-conscious as footsteps near.
“Holy guacamole.” Kitty puts her hands on her hips, a smirk on her face. “You have to get that, Evan will blow his load.”
I make a choking sound in the back of my throat, not quite believing that those words just came out of her mouth.
“I… I dunno.” I shrug.
“I’ll go find shoes,” Kitty announces, spinning around and walking away.
Kay steps forward, placing her hands on my shoulders and giving them a gentle squeeze. “You look stunning, you really should get it.” She gives me a soft smile before walking away much like Kitty did.
I let the curtain drop closed, slowly turning around and staring at myself in the mirror. They’re right, I do look beautiful in this dress, and I can’t deny how I feel when I move and the fabric flows with me.
I look at my face, staring into my eyes and making the snap decision to get the dress. Even if I never wear it outside of my bedroom, I don’t care.
I pull the dress off and pull my own clothes on before heading out to Kay and Kitty who are standing near the register, Kitty with a box in her hands that she lifts the lid off. “The perfect match.” She winks.
My hand strokes the stiletto heel encrusted with gold gems and sparkles. She’s right, they are the perfect match.
I take the box from her, paying and walking out with them both before we head to an Italian restaurant and eat our fill of pasta and tiramisu. By the time we leave I’m so stuffed and bloated that I have to undo the button on my shorts.
I lift the cell out of my pocket that Evan gave me when I slide into the back of the car, seeing that it’s nearly two in the afternoon. I check and double check my messages but there’s nothing from Evan. I’ll probably be the last person to know once he’s finished whatever it is he’s doing.
I move my head up and down to the beat of the music that plays over the radio before lifting my head and looking out of the windshield.
Kay turns into my road and my brow furrows when I see all of the cars; then I spot the police cars parked outside Livvy’s.
“What’s going on?” I ask, knowing that they know as much as I do but not able to stop myself as I start to panic.
Has something happened with Livvy? Is she okay?
I can’t get out of the car fast enough when Kay pulls up behind one of the four squad cars. I run for the house, leaving my bag with the dress behind and head up the path before I’m stopped with a hand to my shoulder.
I spin around, coming face to face with Geena. “What—”
“Don’t move,” she warns, keeping her one hand on my shoulder as the other goes to her
waist and hovers over her gun. “Sarge?” she says into the radio clipped to her shoulder.
My eyes flit between hers before my gaze catches Kay and Kitty’s as they run up to us.
“What the hell, Geena?” If looks could kill, I’m pretty sure Geena would be dead with the fire that is coming out of Kitty’s eyes right now.
Footsteps sound behind me and Kitty pushes past Geena, making her connection to me sever before she grabs my hand and pulls me into the house, looking up at someone. My gaze tracks him from the combat boots he wears and over his jeans, to the belt clipped around his waist along with a badge and up to his face.
“Charlie? What the hell?”
“You need to stay out of this, Kitty Kat.”
She raises a brow, letting go of me and slamming her hands onto her hips as she squares off to him. “I’ll do no such thing.”
“I’m serious,” he says, his voice deepening as he steps forward. At first I think he’s going to continue talking to her but then his chocolate-brown eyes meet mine and I know that this isn’t good for me before he even opens his mouth.
“Alexis Deacon?”
“Yes.” My voice is a mere whisper.
He watches me for a beat before sighing and stepping around Kitty. “You’re under arrest on suspicion with the intent to supply. You don’t…” His voice fades away as my eyes capture Livvy’s where she’s standing at the kitchen door, watching us with tears in her eyes and her mouth drawn down. Does she believe this? Does she really think I’ve been using drugs? Furthermore, dealing them?
I can’t see what she’s thinking; she’s locked down, not letting me see past the walls she’s slammed into place.
The click of the cuffs on my wrists brings me out of my stare with her and I feel everything fade away. Everything that I’ve worked toward, everything I’ve tried to become, it was all for nothing. Because as Charlie leads me out of the house and down the path, past Geena who has a giant grin on her face, I know… I know that I’ll never be able to come back here.
I feel like a butterfly who reverted back into a caterpillar.
ReBoot (MAC Security Series Book 4) Page 29