Page 14 of Pack of Crooks

“We should ask you the same thing,” Killian says, voice rich like his chocolatey scent. He steps toward me. I grab a book, ready to launch it, and his hands fly into the air. “Easy, baby. What did the book ever do to you? Wait, is that my—” He tips his head and takes in the fabric piled on my shoulder. “Are thoseourshirts?”

I bristle. “No.” There’s no fucking way I’m giving them back. They’re mine!

He grins like a maniac and shifts forward. “You’re a terrible liar.”

“Don’t come near me,” I warn, raising the book higher. I will absolutely throw this at his head.

He gasps. “Put the book down and we can all talk about this like adults.”

Yeah, sure, pal. Wait until you find out that I also stole a watch and jewelry.

“We’re not going to hurt you,” Hawk says quickly.

I frown. “You’re not? Why?” What does it matter, Hazel? Now’s your chance to run.

I don’t know anything about these guys, but I know there’s no way I’m making it out of here unscathed. They post jobs on the dark web. People who frequent the dark web are not good people.

Don’t look at me like that, I’m good. . . ish.

“Because.” Bear steps toward me. He’s so big and his proximity sends my instincts all over the place.

Run, drop to the floor and beg for mercy. Fawn. Hide.Claim.

My heart trembles, and I press against the bookshelves. To get away from the danger or the scent that’s set to make me lose my sanity? It’s anyone’s guess at this point. All I know is I broke into their home, and if I were rich with questionable morals, I’d probably find a way to get rid of me.

He takes another step, his giant form closing in, and I’m instantly catapulted back in time—watching Mom dash out of the room while the dealer she’d made me steal from started to corner me. I remember the way hurt and fear gutted me, but then something happened. Everything around me became crystal clear. The escape paths are seemingly illuminated by glowing lights.

I have two options.

Through the pack or out of the window.

New buildings like this typically don’t have fire-escapes, but historical ones? It’s part of theircharm. Right now, it might be the only reason I make it back to Lottie before she wakes up. I have to get back to her. I’m all she has left.

I inch along the bookshelf, grab another paperback, watching as Killian narrows his eyes.

“Don’t do it,” he warns.

Have I mentioned I don’t like people telling me what to do?

Moving past the chair, the full force of the breeze hits me. Each man stiffens, inhaling almost as one and groaning. Breath catching, I have a moment where I wonder if perhaps we can strike a deal, but Bear takes another step, pupils blown wide.

Nope. I’ve seen this movie before. Time for me to go.

My gaze finds Killian’s. My intentions must be crystal clear, because he’s moving before I even launch the paperback. The pages flutter in the air, as if trying to catch flight in a dramatic flapping, before the book begins to arch toward the floor.

As if in slow motion, Killian yells, “Nooooooooooooooooooo,” and dives to catch it, landing on the floor with a thud. I toss the other at Hawk, whose eyes widen comically as he tries to catch it. I turn, slipping out of the window and onto the fire-escape.

Bear surges toward me.

Oh, fuck me. Not the big guy. My heart jack hammers as I find my footing. Un-be-lievable. Even the fire escape is nice. It doesn’t rattle, doesn’t make me question if I’ll die when it inevitably collapses.

With one hand clutching their T-shirts and the other rushing along the railing, I race down the first flight, glancing over my shoulder to see Bear standing on the platform. I swear the alpha smirks. My heart skips at the sight.

Is he getting off on this?

Then he rushes down the stairs and I gasp, quickening my pace.

Please don’t trip and die. Please don’t trip and die.