Page 35 of Lethal Deceit (Hightower Security #2)
Samantha
As I fumble with the seatbelt, a quiet thought creeps in—maybe he actually means it. Not just the rescue, not just the plan.
He wants to help me. Not because he’s being paid, or because someone told him to. Because he wants to.
Mick slides into place beside me, glaring at the front seat.
“Slow down,”
he growls at the driver.
Jake doesn’t answer. He just cranks the air-con and glances at me through the rearview mirror.
“Nice dress.”
I ignore him and turn to Mick.
“So now what?”
He frowns.
“We negotiate for Brooke’s release.”
Uncertainty curls in my chest, tightening like wire. But Mick’s voice stays calm, measured.
“This would be the time to give me anything we can use to find them.”
I glance at Jake, then take a slow breath and make the biggest gamble of my life.
“I can give you a bank account. If you find the owner, you’ll have a starting point.”
Mick threads his fingers through mine, not caring if Jake sees.
“Thank you.”
My lips twitch.
“You have a pen?”
He shakes his head and pulls out his phone.
“Write it in the notes.”
I take the phone from him, tap out the company name I memorized, and move to hand it back to him. Jake swerves into another lane, and I accidentally slide my finger so all the open apps show.
One of them is the messaging app. In the seconds it takes Jake to straighten up, I get a glimpse of what I was trying not to think about.
Mick’s sister. In a typical hostage pose, holding up a newspaper. Her lip is swollen, her eyes show their whites, and there’s bruising on her cheek.
Animals.
I hand the phone back. to Mick, unable to meet his eye.
“I’m sorry,” I mumble.
“Me too. I brought this on her head.”
His voice is far too tender given I’m responsible for the condition his sister is in.
I frown at him, ready to tell him he’s ridiculous, when Jake curses.
“We’re being followed.”
I twist in my seat as Mick does the same. “Where?”
“Blue sedan. Second lane behind the red convertible. Get down. Both of you. I’m going to try to lose them.”
I slide down in my seat, keeping as low as I can.
“How’d they find her?”
Mick asks.
“The same way we did. By keeping an ear to radio chatter,” he says.
I glance at Mick and find him grim-faced and with his hand close to his sidearm. He catches me looking and winks at me.
“It’ll be fine.”
The words are hardly out of his mouth when Jake swerves, cursing loudly as we nearly collide with another car.
Mick rights himself and grasps the seat.
“What’re you doing up there?”
“Not me. We blew a tire,” he yells.
I grab onto the handhold and twist around to peep through the glass. Horror surges through me as I see a man aiming a gun directly at me.
“It’s not a flat! They’re shooting at us!”
I yell. I shrink as far down in my seat as I can and hang on as we bump along the road, the rim of the wheel making a grinding noise.
“Don’t even think about slowing down. We’re sitting ducks!”
Mick yells at Jake.
Jake barely acknowledges him, too busy trying to control the car and stop it veering into the next lane.
Alongside us, drivers are honking their horns and making obscene hand gestures.
“Call Caleb or Luke!”
Jake shouts over his shoulder.
I grit my teeth as Mick hauls out his phone and dials before ramming the phone to his ear. Whoever he called must have been anticipating the call, because there’s no preamble whatsoever. They already seem to know what’s happening.
“Take the next left. Luke is going to cut them off,”
Mick says.
The words have barely left his mouth when a Miami City Works truck comes up behind us at speed, blasting its siren and causing drivers to yield. Jake tears down a side street then floors it as he reaches a parking garage. While I try to catch my breath, he limps the car into a space and turns off the ignition.
He turns to look at us and grins.
“I need to get a new ride. Lady’s choice.”
I turn to Mick, who releases a sigh.
“Do we really need to steal a car?”
Jake’s eyebrows hike to the roof.
“We aren’t stealing a car. I am, and I’m good with it.”
I’ll bet he is. He might be part of this crazy Hightower crew, but he’s buzzing. I’ve been conning people long enough to understand why we do what we do. And while a law-abiding citizen like Mick is struggling with the morality of the situation, Jake is getting an unrivaled dopamine hit.
To lessen Mick’s guilt, I glance out the window and point to a white sedan.
“There. Modified Pontiac G8.”
Mick’s eyes pop.
“You want him to steal a street racer’s car?”
Jake grins then grabs something from the glove box.
“Challenge accepted.”
When the door slams and he stalks off, hands in his pockets, it’s apparent he’s broken into cars before.
As I watch him work, Mick asks the obvious question.
“You know about cars?”
I shrug his question off.
“I know what kind of people drive certain cars.”
“How?”
“Mona and I used to play match the driver. It was a game. I got good at it.”
When his brow furrows and his mouth presses down in displeasure, I gaze out the window at the closest car. The one car in the lot I would never have chosen. A twenty-year-old silver minivan with scratches down the side, a taillight held on by duct tape, and three car seats inside.
“She used to take me to bar parking lots on weekends, and we’d study the cars parked outside. At first, it was boring, and I’d have trouble staying awake. That’s when she started giving me caffeine pills.”
I’d press my forehead to the glass, watching shadows move under yellow lights, too scared to blink in case I missed something.
She’d be still beside me, writing, judging. I wanted so badly to get it right. To guess the car. The man. The make. The match. Be useful. Be wanted.
My stomach twisted every time she sighed or shook her head. The pills made my hands tremble, but at least I stayed awake. Sleep was weakness. Mistakes meant we stayed out longer and I’d risk falling asleep at school.
“How old were you?”
I think back and shake my head.
“I’m not sure. Nine? Ten?”
“Then what?”
“Then we’d go inside, and I’d have to see if I could match the driver to the car.”
I don’t need to see his face to catch the disgust in his voice.
“She was teaching you to be a criminal.”
I close my eyes as I try to see it his way.
“She was teaching me not to be a victim.”
He’s silent, but I can hear his thoughts churning.
“Did you ever think what you were doing was wrong?”
I turn and look at him, defensive and protective of the one person I shouldn’t be.
“To begin with, I thought Mona wanted to be my mother and that we could be a family. That’s what she told everyone. For a while, she fooled me too.”
He works his jaw.
“But she abandoned you, didn’t she? She disconnected her number just when you needed her help.”
I throw my head back, laughing to cover the pain.
“So that’s how you found me? You were tracking my phone. I should have guessed.”
He slides closer, forcing me to look at him.
“You deserved a home and a family.”
Even though his words cause tears to burn in my eyes, I lift a shoulder, brushing him off.
“I survived. Can we change the subject?”
He sits back, glancing at Jake as he turns his back to us, fiddling with the door.
“Why not box them in and run them off the road? You had the manpower—and I’m assuming the vehicles—to do it.”
Mick shakes his head.
“Aside from the risk that would have posed to civilians, Caleb and Adena need to follow them.”
My eyebrows rise.
“To see if they lead him to where they have your sister?”
He blows out a breath then runs his hand over his face.
“Caleb told me they could hustle. I wasn’t sure if he was blowing smoke.”
I unbuckle my seat belt and glance out the window as Jake opens the driver’s door of the Pontiac and gestures for us to join him.
When Mick moves to get out, I grab his arm.
“Wait. I wanted to tell you…”
What was I even trying to say? That I’m sorry? That I wish I were better? That I wish this could be something—when it can’t?
He tilts his head, brow furrowed.
“What is it?”
I bite my lip, half convinced I’ve lost my mind for trusting him, then reach into my bra and pull out the memory card.
“If you’re serious about helping me, start with this.”