Page 24

Angel. Addie’s mom always believed in me. Always said I was more than just a pretty face.

Time to put that theory to the test.

“I need a pen, marker, something.” A calmness washes over me from out of nowhere, settling my nerves, allowing me to focus on the problem.

Possible number combinations swirl through my head and I begin tapping them into the keypad.

There’s always the possibility I might get locked out after entering the first three and getting them wrong.

I pray that won’t happen. It can’t happen.

Hunter and I just found each other and I’m not losing her so soon.

The first three codes are wrong, and I quickly enter a possible fourth combination.

It’s also wrong, but nothing locks me out of the system.

Thank Christ . Addie shoves a marker into my hand that she found somewhere, and I scrawl out the first four codes I already tried.

I keep working on every possible number combination, writing them fast and furious on the tube’s glass, and then Addie quickly enters them on the keypad.

The technique I’m using is pretty damn basic, no tricks involved.

It’s brute force algorithm and solves a problem by trying every possible solution until the correct one is found.

It’s a simple, straightforward approach that guarantees a solution if one exists, and basically involves trial and error.

However, I’m dealing with a person who chose this code, and when it comes to numbers, most people want something easy to remember. I cycle through all the most commonly-used PINs: 1,2,3,4…0,0,0,0…1,1,1,1…1,2,1,2…and so forth.

I’m writing so fast, my hand starts to cramp up, but I ignore it. Addie’s fingers fly over the keypad as she enters all of my combos. Why is nothing working?

Goddammit.

My attention drops to Hunter and her eyes slip closed. Is she unconscious? No, no, no. I write faster, the glass covered with my scrawls. Maybe it’s a date. A birthday or anniversary. Shifting my focus, I start writing every possible combination starting with nineteen.

“C’mon!” I can feel time slipping away, like the final sands are falling through the hourglass. Inside the case, Hunter’s head lolls to the side.

Suddenly, there’s a slight whooshing sound and the door slides open.

“Got it!” Addie cries.

I reach in, grab Hunter and drag her out. My fingers touch her neck, but I don’t feel a pulse. If she has one, it’s barely there.

Get her breathing, Angel commands.

Tilting Hunter’s head, I open her mouth and blow into her lungs. Her chest rises, but she’s not fucking breathing. I cycle through chest compressions then check again. Nothing. Fuckingshit.

Again, Angel whispers.

“Do it again,” Addie says.

Bending down, I breathe more rescue breaths into her and follow it up with additional compressions. “Please breathe for me, Sparrow,” I whisper raggedly. “ Please. ”

Maybe I deserve this. I’ve always justified what I do. Living my life in the gray and taking from others. Sure, we only steal from the very wealthy, but does that make it okay? Maybe my soul is doomed, destined for an eternity in hell. And this is the beginning of that hell right here on Earth.

You’re destined for love, Angel whispers. God, it’s like she’s right here beside me. I can hear her so clearly. Now kiss your girl.

Out of nowhere, Hunter gasps, jerking back to beautiful, precious life. Those pretty molasses eyes flutter open and I’ve never felt such complete and utter relief.

I press my forehead to hers, my hand sliding over her chest, needing to feel its steady rise and fall. “Take a breath, beautiful. Deep breath. I’ve got you,” I whisper, hoping my voice is calm enough to reassure her, make her feel safe.

She starts to sit up, and I help her. “Easy.” My arms wrap around her, holding her against me, needing to confirm yet again she’s alive and breathing. The realization I almost lost her leaves me shredded.

“You cracked the code?” Hunter asks in amazement.

“I cracked the code,” I confirm, then press my lips against hers.

“Your boyfriend is a human calculator,” Addie says.

Your boyfriend . I like the sound of that. Even more, I love that Hunter didn’t deny it. My heart swells, and I wrap her even tighter in my arms.

“I don’t mean to break up the PDA, but we need to get the hell out of here,” Addie interrupts, then presses her earpiece. “Linc? Ryder? Where are you?”

“Right.” I stand, pulling Hunter up with me, knowing she’s likely still going to be wobbly, but also not quite willing to let her go yet.

“We managed to take out the guards up here,” Ryder reports. “You still need help down there?”

“Negative. We’re on our way up with Hunter,” Addie says, and we hurry out of that god awful room, heading back down the hall.

“Copy that.”

Once we reach the steps, we hustle up. Hunter is still leaning against me—definitely more stable on her feet, but at this point, I refuse to let her go—and we come to a halt at the top of the staircase.

In the distance, the whirring sounds of a helicopter fill the air, and I hear gunfire blasting from somewhere.

“Backup just arrived,” Deck announces through the comms.

That means Ryland and Saint are in the house. Fuck yeah.

“Let’s blow this joint,” I say, and Addie nods.

“You heard him. Everyone get to the exit point,” Addie orders.

“We’re parked on the other side of the golf course,” I tell Hunter.

Ideally, all we have to do is run across the back portion of the property, slip through the hedges and we’ll reach our ride.

Unfortunately, nothing is ever as easy as it seems.