“You adapt, I guess. I’d take this sort of worry over feeling helpless any day of the week. We all know the risks going in, and we fight in our own way.” Tuck approached the door and placed his thumb to the square beneath the doorbell, pressing it there. A ding, ding, ding sounded inside, and a moment later the door clicked. Tuck twisted the knob and opened wide.
“Took you guys long enough,” John called as he grabbed the door and dragged it open wider. “Did you stop to wine and dine Doncaster’s crew?”
“Yeah,” Tuck responded. “They insulted my taste in merlot and tried to skip out on the bill.”
“What about Grif and the others?” Dan asked, unable to help himself. “Any word from them?”
John’s lips formed a thin line, and Leo swiveled around from the rig. He looked at home behind the computer, and he stretched his arms above his head.
“We haven’t heard anything,” Leo said. “I’ve been monitoring the video feed and Brennerman’s console. No one’s tampered with it yet, and based on the cops I just saw flooding in through the main entrance, they won’t get the chance to.”
“Good,” Tuck said. He snagged one of the folding chairs stacked against the wall and flipped it out and around, close to the console Leo sat behind. He leaned in against the seat and cast Dan’s best friend a heavy-lidded glance. “You did good work behind the rig.”
Leo tapped the side of his glasses. “Hacking for an operation was something I’ve always wanted to do. Not going to lie, I might need to change my pants.”
“You’re welcome to strip down here,” Tuck commented in the same lazy tone. “No one’s complaining.”
Dan’s feet started to carry him back and forth, but his calves fast throbbed in protest, so he found a wall to lean against and slid to the ground. He couldn’t listen to Tuck and Leo flirting, not while his heart drove ninety miles down the freeway with no brakes. The scuff-scuff-scuff of John’s shoes hitting the ground as he paced went at the same tempo as his nerves, and he sank into the sound.
On the desk near the console, Dan spotted a half-crocheted navy-and-white scarf. If Tuck’s story was to believed, that was John’s handiwork.
He watched the feed Leo had left on the screen, of the cops running through the building. They swarmed the steps, and some of them had already reached Torres Industries. Seeing his own office building, the place he’d loathed and regardless entered daily for the past year, caused his stomach to turn. This job with the Outlaws had felt natural, like peeling off his starched shirt and pressed suit after a day at the office.
The realization hit him like a sudden summer storm, warm drops trickling through him.
He didn’t have to stay at Torres Industries. If they pulled off this heist, if the cops locked up Brennerman, Dan would walk away. The company could do a complete overhaul without him. In the past month he’d been threatened, blackmailed, and shot at. All of those hurdles had hammered in the understanding that life was one wrong turn away from ending up dead in a ditch. He was done wasting away in a job he hated, and he was done hiding who he was from his parents. Either Mom and Dad would accept him, or he’d find himself a new family.
The resolution gripped him by the chest, and he grabbed at it and clutched tight. Relief still eluded him, but that wouldn’t settle into his bones until the moment Grif walked through the door.
If he did.
“Want to go play some Mortal Kombat?” Tuck offered, even though he made no move to get up from his seat near Leo. Still, he appreciated the attempt at distraction.
Dan shook his head. “I want to be here.” He let the unspoken dangle in the air. Tuck nodded, understanding flickering across his features.
“Scarlet? Dales? Locksley?” John’s voice echoed over the comms. He hadn’t stopped pacing, even though he emanated a terrifying sort of placid. No wonder he was their resident con man.
Silence echoed through the room.
Dan tugged the comm from his ear, unable to listen to the static in response. His gaze returned to the door. Watching. Waiting.
He hadn’t spotted the cops seizing Grif and the others inside the building, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t have cuffed them outside. Or they lay on the floor of the Aon Center, blood pooling on the marble tiles. The thought rocked him like a boat in the storm, and Dan tasted bile.
He leaned forward and pressed his forehead to his knees. The motion didn’t erase the carousel of shitty images, but it did cause some of the pressure in his head to ebb. He would offer his legs for a shower at this point with the way his clothes clung to his sticky skin, but he didn’t dare leave the room. Maybe he could ask Leo to look through the video feeds for them again, to try and scan to see if they were still in the building.
Ding. Ding. Ding.
The doorbell rang, and the lock unclicked.
Dan’s head shot up from the slump, and his adrenaline spiked like he still raced through the streets.
Alanna stomped inside, her shoulders heaving, and Scarlet entered after, her movements carefully composed.
“How you got here the same time as me is a mystery,” Scarlet commented, shutting the door behind her. As fast as his hope had soared, it now plummeted. Grif wasn’t with them. “You’re the one who got the car, while I had to wait around for an Uber.”
Alanna tossed a middle finger in the air. “Excuuuse me for wanting to make sure I didn’t have a tail. I’ll be sloppy next time and lead them right to the penthouse.”
“Where’s Grif?” John asked the question before he could.
A frown creased Scarlet’s brow. “He’s not here yet? We left about the same time.”
“Locksley, you fucker, report in,” Alanna said into the comms. “Oh, crap, the jump must’ve messed with our comms.” Dan was grateful he didn’t have his earpiece in anymore, because the discomfort at what he assumed was more silence grew so loud it was almost audible.
A cold sweat broke out over Dan’s skin, but he sewed himself together even as he threatened to unravel at the seams.
“How did you guys escape?” Leo asked. “I saw the elevator got compromised.”
Scarlet strode over to the console, scanning over Leo’s handiwork. She pushed her glasses up on her elegant nose and let out a low whistle. “Not bad, newbie. We rappelled down the side of the building. Managed to sneak through an alley right as the cops peeled up to the entrance.”
“All thanks to Torres,” Alanna commented, her glance flicking to the door again. “We should’ve stopped to bind up his wound.”
“He was bleeding?” Dan asked, the fear punching past the shame.
“All thanks to Torres, my handiwork is still in order,” Scarlet said as she scanned over the console. “Grif got shot when we were trying to board the elevator. Stubborn fucker wouldn’t have stopped for treatment if we tried.”
“Can you trace him?” Dan asked. The urgency pulsed in his veins like the hummingbird thrum of his heartbeat. If his legs hadn’t been dead to the world right now, he’d surge up and start patrolling the outside of the building.
“I can make an attempt, but if he isn’t responding on the comms, it probably broke or is glitching too much to get a signal,” Scarlet murmured, nudging Leo out of the way. He scooted his chair closer to Tuck as Scarlet crouched in front of the console, the blue light painting her pale skin and illuminating the exhaustion on her features.
The thought of Grif staggering out there alone was too much to bear. Dan swallowed his regrets of all the words left unsaid between them. Of all the potential, like stars extinguished, if Grif didn’t make it back.
“You pulled off the Ezekiel Protocol?” John said, changing the subject. Dan wanted to snap at him, but at the same time he appreciated the distraction. Alanna leaned against the wall next to him in a temporary truce, her arms crossed in front of her.
Scarlet nodded. “We’ve got the backup files here for safekeeping too. By tomorrow morning, Phil Brennerman is fucked harder than an escort working overtime.”
<
br /> Dan gripped his knees harder. He should feel relief at that. The man who’d plagued him for the past year would be behind bars, where he deserved to be. However, his heart pole-vaulted into his throat every time he glanced to the door.
Ding. Ding. Ding.
This time, Dan did stand. He was striding over to the door the moment the lock clicked.
“I’ve got to say, the state of the L these days is positively criminal.” Grif’s sarcastic voice came from the doorway as he entered. Dan devoured the single glimpse of him, his windswept blond hair, the Arctic blue of his intense gaze, and the way he leaned to his side, his palm pressed over his right thigh.
John let out a sharp laugh behind him. “That’s your own fault for taking the L back home.”
“Use your comm next time, asshole,” Alanna called.
Dan’s legs carried him across the room until he stood in front of Grif. He was here, he was real, and he was safe. The relief that had been hanging over him like an errant thundercloud opened up, and the downpour threatened to wash him away.
Grif closed the door behind him with a click, but his gaze never left Dan’s. The intensity there was like standing at the edge of Lake Michigan as the sun set, unable to look away from the glittering expanse that held him spellbound. He’d never felt this around anyone before, but Grif inspired it, every damn time.
Dan didn’t hesitate. His hands slipped around Grif’s nape, and he brought the man in close. His lips crushed to his in a fierce, breathless kiss. Grif’s hands wound around his waist, bringing him in flush against him as he deepened the kiss. Heat stung Dan’s eyes at the relief that ached his bones, that soothed his nerves. Each press of their lips together offered a reassurance they needed right now. Dan drank in the salt and sweat, the musk of his cologne, and he savored the taste, those scents. The thrumming in his chest stilled, and Dan sank into the quiet.
No matter how many twists and turns his life had taken of late, Dan now understood they opened up to a path he could’ve never imagined, one of hope, one of thrills, and one of freedom. As he sank into Grif’s embrace, he knew the man who was to blame, and he couldn’t be happier.
Twenty-Nine
Grif grew aware of three things upon waking: his right thigh ached like a bitch, he could sleep the next century and still not feel rested, and someone lay curled next to him. That got him bolting upright fast. He’d been sleeping alone in this bed from the day he bought this place.
“Grif, it’s just me.” Dan’s voice cut through the haze, the low, sweet tone that got his blood pumping. “Given the current state of my company, I told them I got the call from the cops and I’ll be heading in to talk with them first, which gives me a little time now. My phone’s been blowing up nonstop since five.”
He blinked the sleep out of his vision and glanced to his right. Memories of last night came crashing in on him. They’d swapped a bit of empty chatter before everyone rushed for the bathrooms to try and shower off the scum and patch up wounds. He and Dan had shared some scorching kisses under the spray of hot water before they passed the hell out. Dan sat next to him in the bed, the sheets loosely draped over his legs. With the sunlight through the blinds causing his skin to gleam like polished bronze and threading brown notes through his thick black hair, the man looked fucking delicious.
He ran a hand through his hair, not looking away from Dan Torres, who lay in his bed. He could get used to this far too fast. Yet, they hadn’t even bothered to talk last night, both too exhausted to do much more than fall into bed.
“You’re looking at me with scary eyes,” Dan said, lifting an eyebrow. “Like you’re planning how to dispose of my body in Lake Michigan.”
Grif snorted. The comment eased the tension mounting inside him, somehow making what he was going to say easier. Dan had been doing that since he met him: smoothing the sharp edges before he’d even realized. The man had a calming effect on him and came at problems from a different approach, something Grif admired. He couldn’t let go of him.
“So, the job’s over,” Grif started, and Dan flinched. He reached over to trace his finger along Dan’s cheek, hating to see the pain flicker-flash across those gentle eyes. “But I’ll be honest with you, I’m not ready to let go of whatever this is between us.”
Dan’s mouth dropped open for a moment, and he rocked closer, the bedsheet slipping and revealing more of his smooth, biteable skin. When he’d arrived through the door last night and Dan had slammed his mouth to his, any doubts and fears cleared away. The relief had filled his hollowed heart to the point he’d almost forgotten it shattered years ago. Grif had never been into relationships, but with Dan, he wanted to give the whole commitment thing a fair shake.
“Though,” he continued, needing to cut through the quiet at the prickle of vulnerability that swept over him. “Things might be difficult for a while since my fake Neo-National company happened to drop a major bomb onto yours.”
“Whose company?” Dan asked, a gleam in his gaze that looked brand new. “I’m going to be walking away from Torres Industries. It’s about time I followed what I want rather than what my father dictates.”
Grif leaned forward and stole a kiss, those silken lips melting against his. Dan let out a moan of frustration and pulled away.
“I’ll never manage this conversation if we start down that road,” Dan murmured against his mouth. “You’re too damn tempting.” He pulled back and sprawled on his bed like an invitation. The scent of his lime and ginger cologne already had Grif hard.
Dan blew out a breath. “I was terrified you were going to tell me we were quits. Sorry I didn’t give an immediate response, but I was bracing myself for the worst.” He reached out and threaded his fingers through Grif’s, the motion so tender it speared right through his heart. “I want this, and I know you’re not the picket fence sort, but hey, I’ll settle for a penthouse.”
The grin tugged across his lips before he even realized how wide he smiled, like a complete idiot. He squeezed Dan’s hand tight and then tugged him in to wrap his arm around his shoulders. Dan leaned against his chest. Grif wanted to memorize the soft puffs of his breath against his skin, the addictive scent, and the way strands of his hair stuck straight up, tousled from sleep.
“You’re something spectacular, you know that?” he murmured into his hair. “If your father can’t deal with you following your own path, then fuck him.”
Dan traced his fingers along his thigh, the tease traveling perilously close to his cock. “That’d be awkward,” Dan joked, and then he squeezed Grif’s thigh before looking up at him. “Especially since I hope you’ll be meeting them sometime in the near future. At the very least, you’ll meet my sister. Hope you like Filipino food.”
Grif swallowed, hard. While he’d formed his own family after his parents passed away, this was the first time he’d be meeting any significant other’s. “Are you sure they won’t take one look at me and run screaming the other way?” Dan’s earlier words clicked in his head. “I thought you said your dad isn’t a fan of your ‘lifestyle.’”
Dan bit his lip, the vulnerable look in his eyes causing Grif’s heart to tumble headfirst. “It’s about time I told him. Like I said, I’m done hiding who I am. I want you to be a part of my life, and I’m willing to take the risk.”
He had been in every facet. Grif couldn’t have imagined when he first met the sharp-dressed CEO of Torres Industries that this sweet, clever man could’ve maneuvered past all his defenses to witness his truth—and still want him. The thought hit harder than any punch he’d received in the ring.
“Damn, Torres, keep sweet-talking me like that and I might find myself falling.” Before he could let those words settle inside, he slid to the edge of the bed and rested his feet on the ground. “We’d better get out there for breakfast before the other Outlaws skin us alive. Or Leo—with the way Scarlet and Tuck were eyeing him up, I’m worried for your friend.”
“The slut would probably eat it up,” Dan muttered, run
ning a hand over his face. “Let’s break up the orgy before it starts.” Dan climbed out of bed, his muscles sore, and began tugging on his pair of sweats from the night before.
“Let me get you a clean pair,” Grif said, striding over to his dresser. He grabbed two and handed the navy ones over to Dan.
“I’ll be swimming in these,” Dan grumbled, even as he tugged them on and pulled the drawstring tighter. Grif grabbed one of his undershirts and tossed Dan one too.
Dan lifted his eyebrow. “You’re massive. I look like a toddler wearing adult clothing in these.”
“Not like you were complaining about my size the other night,” Grif teased, the sight warming his chest. Dan wasn’t wrong, but he looked fucking adorable, and if he were being honest, he liked the look of his boyfriend with sleep-mussed hair and wearing his clothes.
Fuck, that word would take some getting used to.
“Yes, you’ve got a massive cock I’ve been fixated on from the day we met,” Dan said with a yawn, waving his hand in front of his face. “But you mentioned breakfast, and I have a severe need for coffee.”
Grif laughed and clapped a hand on Dan’s shoulder, leading him out from the room. The moment they stepped into the corridor, the sounds of the rest of the crew echoed his way. Today was starting out to be a damned good day. When they stepped into the kitchen, five pairs of eyes honed in on them.
“What’s this sleeping in nonsense?” John called over to him. “Don’t tell me a measly bullet wound has you lagging in your old age.”
Scarlet pushed his glasses up on his nose and slapped the table. “It’s about time, pay attention.”
Scarlet had brought the flat-screen into the kitchen this morning and set it on the opposite end of the table. Tuck slumped into his plate, half-awake, while Leo fingered a piece of bacon on his plate before breaking the slice into smaller pieces. Alanna clanged the dishes at the stovetop and tossed the spatula as she raced over to join them.
Midnight Heist (Outlaws Book 1) Page 23
