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Okay. All set.
I draw a deep breath.
Let it out.
“You sure this will do the job?” I straighten my shirt.
“Yeah, so stop fidgeting. One might think you’re chicken-shit.”
“Fuck you, Rook.”
“Not in the mood today, baby.”
“Just get my girl back safe.”
“You got my word.”
And that finally relaxes me enough so I can buckle in and we can take off. Storm is climbing into a car with Raylin, setting off on their own mission.
It’s on.
Rook settles back in his seat as the pilot takes us off the ground, and we fly toward the city. Somewhere out there is Layla. She’s probably scared to death.
Hold on, babe. I’m on my way.
Won’t let anything happen to you.
Scrubbing a hand over my face, adrenaline pumping through my body like a wash of cold fire, I gaze below, at the landscape streaking by—the streets and the houses and the buildings and the parks.
Soon enough we’ll find out if those details Rook hammered out will make the difference between a success and failure, life and death.
Between a damn bad and a damn happy ending.
***
“Just breathe, buddy,” Rook mutters as he parks the SUV at the given address to wait for the phone call.
“I’m supposed to look tense,” I inform him. “If I look too fucking relaxed, they’ll suspect something.”
Though there’s no chance of me relaxing.
“Whatever happens…” Rook rakes his hand through his longish hair. “It wasn’t your fault. You can’t save the whole world, man. No matter what your grandfather told you. You can’t—”
“Oh shut up, Rook.” Heat climbs my neck, and I guess there’s no avoiding punching him in the face by the end of the day. “This is my family, and I’m the one who fucked up, not you.”
“Trust me,” Rook mutters. “I’ve fucked up pretty bad plenty of times.”
“I’m not talking about your fucked up childhood, bro.”
“Neither am I.”
Huh. Filing this tidbit to investigate later when my head is in the game, I stare at my phone, willing it to ring already.
“You all set?” Rook reaches over to check my hearing aid, and I slap his hand away.
“Yes.”
“Remember everything I told you?”
