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“What the fuck am I doing?” Knox asks in a singsong voice.
“Sorry, I’m just thinking of potential outcomes and how to avoid the bad ones,” Linc replies.
“Christ,” Knox murmurs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Yes, please let’s avoid the bad ones.”
“Okay, slide the tip of the blade beneath the emerald and feel around for a pressure switch. It’ll feel like a little button. Just don’t lift the emerald off it,” he warns. “If you feel it, you’re going to slide your blade over it and sideways, wedging it in the crevice, making sure to keep the switch down. Don’t let it lift up at any point or it’ll trigger an alarm.”
Knox pulls in a breath, and I’m amazed at how steady his hands are as he does what Linc says. Once again, I’m holding my breath, my hands balled into tight fists, and anxiety fills me. I watch as he holds the emerald in place with one hand and carefully maneuvers the knife beneath it with his other.
“I don’t feel anything,” he says, carefully probing with his knife.
“No button? A small switch? Some kind of nub?” Linc asks.
“Pretend it’s a woman and you’re looking for her—”
“I have no problem finding that, you idiot.” Knox rolls his eyes at Ryder’s comment. Then he gingerly moves the knife’s tip, carefully prodding again.
“Anything?” Linc asks.
“No. I don’t think so.”
“You need to be sure.”
Knox looks over at me. “I don’t feel anything.”
I give him a reassuring nod. “He said there might not be one.”
He swears under his breath, and I’m not sure if it’s a bead of sweat that rolls down his temple or a drop of water.
“There’s nothing,” Knox states firmly.
“Then pick up that emerald and get the hell out of there,” Linc says.
“Addie?” Knox asks, deferring to their leader.
“You heard him,” she says. “We’ll see you outside the gates.”
“Copy that.”
Knox sends me one more look, and I nod. With my heart in my throat, I watch as he pulls the switchblade back and lifts the emerald off its velvet bed.
And the shrill sound of an alarm fills the air.
Chapter Eleven: Knox
“Fuck!” I hiss, spinning around and pushing Hunter toward the pool as I shove the emerald down the front of my swim shorts. “Go!”
I palm my switchblade as we both hurry down the steps into the water, then pull in a deep breath and dive for the tunnel. Beneath the water, the sound of the alarm dulls and I wonder what the hell happened. Ryder said he disconnected the alarm, but Torres must’ve had a backup installed. Maybe something that ran on a battery.
It’s fucking Colombia all over again. And I’m really starting to hate this guy.
By the time we reach the other pool, the alarm has been turned off, but I can see concerned guests through the glass bottom. People are wondering what the hell is going on, and if this turns out anything like South America, Torres is going to lock the mansion down.
We need an exit plan. Fast.
Climbing out of the pool, we grab our robes and slip them on. No one is up here yet and I look around, trying to determine the best course of action.
“What now?” Hunter asks.