Page 60 of Point Blank

Milo turned the handle toward her. “In case we get split up, you need to be able to protect yourself.”

His words rang through her consciousness. He’d said the same thing the night he’d given her the switchblade—and years later it had saved her life. She fit the handle into her palm and caught the length of the handgun in her other hand, weighing it.

“Do you remember how to shoot?”

The gritty texture of sand erupted on her tongue, leeching the moisture from her mouth. She turned the gun over and brought her finger to the safety button. Of course, it was on. She hadn’t fired a gun since they were kids. Milo’s dad was a hunter and had taught Tasha and him to shoot. Milo had taught her when she was fifteen.

“I remember.”

“Good. Keep it on you.” He circled his finger in the air. “Let’s go.”

She climbed out of the truck and tucked the gun at the small of her back. Milo met her on her side of the vehicle and they all made their way down the trail. The hard, bulky metal dug into her tailbone, and her skin prickled with unease. As much as she’d wanted to refuse the weapon, Milo was right. She might need it.

“You’ll get used to it,” Peyton said with a wink.

Serena frowned.

“The gun at your back.” She lifted her jacket to reveal the Beretta at her spine. “I feel naked without mine.”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to it. I’m afraid it’s going to go off and shatter my spine.”

Peyton bumped her shoulder with hers and snickered. “Don’t be silly. You have the safety on, right?”

“Yes.”

“We’re almost through this,” Peyton said somberly, with a sympathetic smile. Despite the fact Serena had kept her distance from Peyton over the last few years, Peyton hadn’t held a grudge. “I’ve got an idea. Remember how we used to bet before a heist? I say we place one. It’ll help reduce the stress.” A sly smile smeared across her lips, and Serena narrowed her eyes at her.

“Seriously?” Brock fidgeted with the bud at his ear. “I don’t think this is the time, Priss.”

“Oh, come on. It’ll be fun.”

“What do you have in mind?” Brock asked.

“Well, no point in betting on who gets out first. Not when just Milo and Serena are going in.”

“And we need to focus, not rush,” Milo said, his tone terse.

“Right. I’d like to bet a hundred bucks Brock and Dani get back together after this.”

Milo groaned and Serena winced and looked at Brock. Dark clouds brewed across his forehead. “You know that’s not going to happen. Dani would be pissed at you for saying something so ridiculous.”

“Did I touch a nerve?”

“All right,” Serena said, as they traipsed over the terrain. The property loomed ahead. “Let’s keep our voices down, shall we?”

“Hold up a minute.” Brock held out his hand. “I say?—”

Peyton’s laugh bubbled in the tight space. “Easy, killer. I’m just ribbing you for calling me Priss.” She propped her hands on her hips. “Are you retirees ready?”

“I’m as in this game as you are,” Brock said. He took the lead down the trail, and they followed a pace behind. The heaviness in his voice told her Peyton had indeed struck a nerve. She felt a little stab of sympathy for the big guy with a big heart who’d made a stupid-ass decision that had cost him the woman he’d loved.

Then she pushed all thoughts of Brock’s feelings from her mind and glanced down at the mud-covered trail. Dani’s once clean gym shoes had taken a beating. Each step sunk the rubber and canvas into the moist ground. The gentle suck, suck, suck, on all eight of their feet was the only sound beyond the distant roar from the interstate.

Serena dragged her thumb through her fist, over and over. The constant friction on her skin kept the adrenaline bottled and prevented her from sprinting ahead.

Milo’s warm grip caught her hand, silencing the rub of her skin. She tilted her head back to take in the full view of him. The soft moonlight shone over the planes of his face, calming her. She let her hand relax in his hold, enjoying the brush of his thumb over her knuckles.

“Are you anxious about the heist or about Dani?”