Page 102
Story: Salvaged Hearts
“Jiggs up, baby.” Eyeing the windows, I debated between fleeing or laying her out on the floor and going with ‘We got drunk and carried away.’
Certainly wouldn’t help the scandal side of things, would it? An inebriated fall from glory. However, neither would getting caught breaking the Gilbert’s office window.
Without prompting, Alice raised her phone to her ear, and I swore as the door clicked closed behind us. “You have theirsecurity cameras?” A bated breath. Meanwhile, I was making a beeline for the windows. “Anything in the south corridor, the windows outside, or the office?” Another pause. “Well, the alternative is starring in a live-action porno with an improvised script and praying they don’t question us. I think those odds are firmly stacked against us, so yeah, I need to know.Yes. Good. Thanks.” She shot me an animated grimace before jerking her chin at the window I was fighting open.
Damn archaic swollen frames.
Her expression would’ve been hilarious if I wasn’t so livid I could spit. Rushing to help, Alice threw her entire body into it, both of us straining to get the wood to budge as someone banged on the door, demanding we open it.
Joke’s on you, fucker.
But there was just enough room, and I had to bite back my need to slap her fucking perfect ass as she bent down to squeeze between the frame. There would be time for that later.
Unceremoniously, Alice crashed into the bush outside, popping up scraped, with leaves and twigs in her hair. Sucking my lips between my teeth, I nodded as she righted herself, both of us torn between laughter and running for our fucking lives. Hurriedly, I wiped down the window frame with my jacket, praying I fucked up any fingerprints we left behind.
The best thing about criminals? They’re highly unlikely to call the police. In a fucked up way, I hoped what Alice found was as bad as she thought it was.
That was our only prayer in this fucking mess.
Careful to keep my palms off the bottom of the frame, I wedged myself through as she held it open with her forearms. She let gravity do the rest the moment I was on my feet, and the thingthunkedback into place.
“Keep your face down,” I demanded, snatching her hand as we bolted toward the front corner of the estate.
“Max’ll scrub them!” she panted as she followed my lead. But a flash of neon caught my attention, and I looked down to see where her nails wereglowingin the dark.
“What. The fuck. Isthat?” I growled, raising her hand in front of us as we made a beeline through the grass.
“Oh,” she giggled breathlessly. “They glow.”
“I see that. Do you have pockets?”
“In couture?! No, Grey, I don’t have pockets.”
“Well—fuck.” I laughed, shaking my head. “Tuck them into fists or something.”
“We just broke out of a castle, and you’re worried aboutmy nails.”
“Little glowing ghosts on the security feed?”
“I told you, Max is on it.”
“Fucking ridiculous. Goes on an unapproved stealth op with glowing nails.”
“It wasn’t exactlyplanned,” she protested, but humor slanted those pillowy lips a beat before she dragged her teeth over the bottom one. “My nail lady said guys love them.”
“Your nail lady isridiculous.”
“I don’t exactly think she had breaking and entering in mind when she made the suggestion.”
Nothing about this should’ve been funny. Or entertaining.
And yet, I found myself electrified with the rush of adrenaline and morbid humor. Maybe it was truly too close a call, but it was also the closest thing I’d had to fun in a long damn time.
We stopped behind the cover of a couple of maple trees so I could look her over. I plucked the twigs and leaves from her hair, running my thumb over the scrape across her cheek and grimacing when I saw the accompanying cuts over her bare arms. Quickly, I slipped out of my jacket and draped it over her shoulders before she snaked her arm around my waist.We casually strolled out of the goddamn hedges and onto the driveway, making eyes at each other like nothing out of the ordinary was happening.
“What do I do about Miranda?” she asked as I helped her into the back of the SUV while Jax watched with open concern.
I swore, closing my eyes. “Leave it to me.” It took approximately three minutes for me to wander back in the front entrance—trusting Max to scrub the footage after us—and find Royce, who was still on the phone, pacing the hallway.
Certainly wouldn’t help the scandal side of things, would it? An inebriated fall from glory. However, neither would getting caught breaking the Gilbert’s office window.
Without prompting, Alice raised her phone to her ear, and I swore as the door clicked closed behind us. “You have theirsecurity cameras?” A bated breath. Meanwhile, I was making a beeline for the windows. “Anything in the south corridor, the windows outside, or the office?” Another pause. “Well, the alternative is starring in a live-action porno with an improvised script and praying they don’t question us. I think those odds are firmly stacked against us, so yeah, I need to know.Yes. Good. Thanks.” She shot me an animated grimace before jerking her chin at the window I was fighting open.
Damn archaic swollen frames.
Her expression would’ve been hilarious if I wasn’t so livid I could spit. Rushing to help, Alice threw her entire body into it, both of us straining to get the wood to budge as someone banged on the door, demanding we open it.
Joke’s on you, fucker.
But there was just enough room, and I had to bite back my need to slap her fucking perfect ass as she bent down to squeeze between the frame. There would be time for that later.
Unceremoniously, Alice crashed into the bush outside, popping up scraped, with leaves and twigs in her hair. Sucking my lips between my teeth, I nodded as she righted herself, both of us torn between laughter and running for our fucking lives. Hurriedly, I wiped down the window frame with my jacket, praying I fucked up any fingerprints we left behind.
The best thing about criminals? They’re highly unlikely to call the police. In a fucked up way, I hoped what Alice found was as bad as she thought it was.
That was our only prayer in this fucking mess.
Careful to keep my palms off the bottom of the frame, I wedged myself through as she held it open with her forearms. She let gravity do the rest the moment I was on my feet, and the thingthunkedback into place.
“Keep your face down,” I demanded, snatching her hand as we bolted toward the front corner of the estate.
“Max’ll scrub them!” she panted as she followed my lead. But a flash of neon caught my attention, and I looked down to see where her nails wereglowingin the dark.
“What. The fuck. Isthat?” I growled, raising her hand in front of us as we made a beeline through the grass.
“Oh,” she giggled breathlessly. “They glow.”
“I see that. Do you have pockets?”
“In couture?! No, Grey, I don’t have pockets.”
“Well—fuck.” I laughed, shaking my head. “Tuck them into fists or something.”
“We just broke out of a castle, and you’re worried aboutmy nails.”
“Little glowing ghosts on the security feed?”
“I told you, Max is on it.”
“Fucking ridiculous. Goes on an unapproved stealth op with glowing nails.”
“It wasn’t exactlyplanned,” she protested, but humor slanted those pillowy lips a beat before she dragged her teeth over the bottom one. “My nail lady said guys love them.”
“Your nail lady isridiculous.”
“I don’t exactly think she had breaking and entering in mind when she made the suggestion.”
Nothing about this should’ve been funny. Or entertaining.
And yet, I found myself electrified with the rush of adrenaline and morbid humor. Maybe it was truly too close a call, but it was also the closest thing I’d had to fun in a long damn time.
We stopped behind the cover of a couple of maple trees so I could look her over. I plucked the twigs and leaves from her hair, running my thumb over the scrape across her cheek and grimacing when I saw the accompanying cuts over her bare arms. Quickly, I slipped out of my jacket and draped it over her shoulders before she snaked her arm around my waist.We casually strolled out of the goddamn hedges and onto the driveway, making eyes at each other like nothing out of the ordinary was happening.
“What do I do about Miranda?” she asked as I helped her into the back of the SUV while Jax watched with open concern.
I swore, closing my eyes. “Leave it to me.” It took approximately three minutes for me to wander back in the front entrance—trusting Max to scrub the footage after us—and find Royce, who was still on the phone, pacing the hallway.
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