Page 134 of Stealing Blinds

“I just discovered it.” His tone conveys a blasé indictment. “And you said you had a plan to thwart the guards.”

“I do, but …” My lungs empty themselves. “Do the guards work for the resort, the convention, or the organization I’m stealing from?”

“The organization, so they will not hesitate.”

And neither will he. Maybe he’s planning to kill me as I exit the room and take the drive. He could make it seem like the guards did it. But why end me if I don’t even have a stake in this? I have so many pieces, but I can’t seem to flip things the way I need to for them to fit into a complete picture.

I keep trekking toward the coal chute. “I spoke to one of the marks, and it left me unsettled. I know this is important to you, but I want to understand what I’m doing.”

He scoffs. “I’ve paid you enough for this job and past ones that those questions don’t apply.”

That’s not the first time he’s uttered that, but this is different.

“They do though. Because from what I gleaned, I’m taking something from a formidable organization, one that’s instructed to shoot to kill if someone attempts to obtain their information. So, what happens if they suspect I was involved? One of them knows my history. Do I survive past this, E?”

“Everything is in working order,” Jax chimes through the comm. “Time for a tasting.”

“Of course you survive,” E coos with the placid demeanor of a predator trapping his prey. “Because you are the best. If anyone can pull this off, it’s you.” He waits a solitary beat before he drops the final statement as a warning and an order. “Finish the job.”

The line goes dead, and acid sloshes in my stomach. There’s no turning back though. I’ve got so many people roped into this with me, and I’m afraid to say too much over the comm.

Tessa meets me at the coal chute with my backpack of supplies. I had some things in my purse, but this is a prepared-for-anything bag. Even the material is fire-resistant and waterproof.

Tessa brings a unique skill set to the team. She’s smart and quick on her feet, and the guests aren’t keeping tabs on her. She’s the one who can melt into the background because she’s Maddox’s wife, but there aren’t expectations placed on her, like the Noire brothers. Even Zara has more eyes on her since she’s married to Axel and he was the one invited. Tessa flies under the radar.

“Everything is set.” She takes my purse, drops a pair of barefoot running shoes on the ground, and hands me a rubber band.

I gesture for her to turn off her mic, and when she does, I pull my hair back into a ponytail and slip on the shoes. “I think the keyholders are part of Kratos. Not E.”

She digests that, but it’s evident a million questions that we don’t have time to address plague her, so she keeps it simple. “Why?”

I shake my head. “It was something Peter said about what he was a part of. I can’t make sense of it. I guess it could still be a similar group, but what are the chances that there’s a third group out there with a power he believes trumps the Noires?”

She blocks the glare of the sun. “Anything is possible at this point.”

“Maybe it was just a gut feeling, but he spoke about confidence in a quiet power and my father. And E wants something from them. I just thought …”

“Does it change anything about the immediate plan?” She’s asking if I’m unwilling to steal from Kratos.

Maybe I should be, but it’s not like I can walk away empty-handed. E claims he’s leaving, but I know he’s here, ensuring I’m following through. The only way to survive him is to finish this job my way.

“No, but I wanted you to know. In case …”

That has her flinching and ready to fight someone. I wrap her in a hug, breathing in her beachy coconut fragrance that seems too carefree for the woman who steers Maddox’s menacing energy with a glower of stern and playful annoyance. She’s fire and frustration in the most loyal package.

“In case what?” she grits out while wholeheartedly embracing me. “If you’re nervous, we should tell the guys.”

As if they were piping up to share their opinions, incessant laughter filters through the comm before Cash’s deep tenor declares, “Gotta go with the 1986 Bordeaux.”

“Eyes on all four tangos,” Gage announces, alerting me that the keyholders and E are being watched. “Proceed when ready.”

“We’re in too deep now,” I tell Tessa as I pull away and study her doll-like face, stuck on how she told me last night that she and Maddox were trying to get pregnant. “They need to stay where they are, and you should go back to the boat.”

“What?” Her turquoise eyes practically pop out of her head. “No.”

“Yes,” I insist, tossing my sunglasses into the backpack. “It’s more dangerous than I realized.”

“I’m more dangerous than you realize,” she counters, and her fierceness is something to behold. “Are you finishing this?”