by Diana Gardin
“Hey,” I whisper into the growing darkness. “I need to tell you something.”
She pauses the tiny circles she’s drawing on my chest. “Tell me anything.”
“Remember the story I said I’d tell you one day? The one I said was too damn painful to talk about?”
She nods, remaining silent. But just her presence in my arms, the feel of her against me—it’s all I need to keep going.
I take a deep breath, finally allowing those memories to come back to me. But instead of running from them, I tell her what happened. I tell her about meeting Hadara. About how she became an asset to my SEAL team, bringing us supplies and information. I tell Indy about spending time with Hadara, about falling in love with her. And then about how her entire apartment building was torched by a group of insurgents all because they knew that one of the residents was helping us.
When I’m finished with my story, Indigo’s eyes are shining with tears.
“I’m so sorry, Lawson. To go through that, and still be the man you are today…to still care about people and allow yourself to love the way you do. God.” She sniffs, dropping her forehead against mine. “You’re so amazing.”
I bring a hand up to rest against the back of her head. “I gave in to the darkness for a while. It wasn’t easy to crawl back out. Working for NES helped. And so did helping my sister with the Underground. And then I met you.”
Her forehead continues to rest against mine. “And I met you. I don’t take this lightly, Lawson. Any of it. What you’ve shared with me, the closeness we can’t seem to escape. I’ve never had this before, never even wanted to give a man a part of myself the way I want to give it to you. And as scary as it is, I want to give you more than just a part of me. And maybe my story is different than yours, but we both have something to risk here, Lawson. And for you…it’s worth it. You’re worth it.”
I sigh, my breath mingling with hers between us, and she breathes me in as my eyes delve into her soul. “We’ve got this, Indy. Me and you. Maybe we’re coming into it with scars, but every day I spend with you, you’re helping me heal.”
She brushes her lips against mine, not quite a kiss. “We’ve got this. Like I said. You’re a risk worth taking. And I’m thankful that you’re ready to take it with me.”
The following week, Eli finally informs us that the McLaren’s owner is having it shipped from California and that it’s arriving later tonight. It’s the only opportunity for us to grab it, while it’s in the storage container and before the owner picks it up.
It’s the last assignment we have to complete for Eli, and then we can put that asshole away for good.
Which will also bring an end to my time with Indigo.
I’ve never felt so confused about the end of a mission in my entire life.
19
INDIGO
“Hey, GoGo! I was hoping I’d see you today.” Frannie’s sunshine-bright smile nearly lights up the whole landing, where our front doors are side by side. She’s just unlocking her door when she catches me following Lawson out of ours.
He gives Frannie a wave and drops a kiss on top of my head. He does it so casually, this simple gesture of affection, that it makes my heartbeat thump faster and my chest constrict with feeling.
When I turn to face Frannie, leaning one shoulder against our front door, her smile is even wider and there’s a knowing look in her blue eyes. “Y’all are so cute. You know that, right?”
The slight twang in her accent makes me smile in spite of myself. But I also roll my eyes. “No, we aren’t.”
She shakes her head, causing her hair to whip around her face. “You so are. Deny it all you want, but you two are the cutest couple I’ve ever seen. Not to mention your babies are going to be just gorgeous.”
My stomach bottoms out. “We’re not having babies.”
The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, but Frannie doesn’t even blink. “We’ll see.” She waves a hand. “Anyway, I wanted to ask if you’d like to come hang out at my place tonight. A little girl time? I have wine. I haven’t met that many people in Wilmington yet, even though I’ve been here almost a year. The other nurses at work are nice, but I like to leave work at work, you know? When I met you, I just had a feeling that we should be friends. Does that sound crazy?”
All of those words tumble out of her in one long rush of a sentence, and I just stand there listening to her. When she finally finishes, I force my words to make their way out of my mouth. “Um…if I’m home before it gets too late. Law—Logan and I are doing some work this evening.”
Her expression brightens. “Oh, you two work together? What do you do?”
I’m ready for this question. I don’t skip a beat. “We’re in sales. We’ve got some calls and stuff to make tonight, but maybe I can stop by once we’re done.”
She gives me an enthusiastic nod. “That sounds great. I’ll see you later, then!”
I stand there until her petite, scrubs-clad body disappears inside her front door. Then, shaking my head, I jog down the steps.
It looks like Frannie Phillips is going to be my friend, whether I’m ready or not. The fact that I like how opposite she is from me, her bubbly demeanor sending spikes of energy through whatever room she’s in, intrigues me. I’ve never had a friend like her. But I’m willing to put in a little effort, to meet her halfway.
Even if I can’t actually tell her the truth about any aspect of my life.
After Lawson and I work out, we strategize. We work out a plan for how we’re going to steal the car Eli wants so much, and we go over it again and again until we both know the plan backward and forward.
An hour before we’ve planned to be at the shipyard, as night is rolling into the seaside city, Lawson props a hip against the kitchen island and crosses his arms across his chest. “The McLaren will be in transport when they move it from the cargo ship in the harbor to the truck that’ll take it to Michael Legume’s estate. That’s the best time for us to nab it, while it’s sitting in the shipping company’s terminal at the docks overnight. We sneak in, steal the car, and drive it straight to Hawke’s.” Lawson’s voice is somber as he relays the plan to me one more time, even though the play-by-play isn’t necessary.
“I’ve got it,” I snap, anxiety morphing into irritation as I turn away from him.
Before I can make a full one-eighty, Lawson’s big hand grips my wrist. Swinging me back around and pulling me to his chest, he looks down at me with that intense, serious expression in his eyes.
“I’m reiterating the plan,” he states, his tone firm. “Not because I don’t trust you to execute it. But because I need to know that you’ll be safe in this scenario. What’s happening between us is only the beginning, Indy. Your safety is my top priority right now. And if that irritates you? Fine, I’ll fucking irritate you. I don’t give a shit, as long as you’re okay.”
Something inside me goes all squishy and soft, because when was the last time someone cared about me that way? God. This man…he keeps saying things and doing things that make me fall a little farther in a direction I keep telling myself I can’t go.
But instead of pulling away, I sink a little deeper into his arms and allow him a little deeper into my heart.
20
LAWSON
It’s a short ride from our apartment to the Wilmington harbor, but the tension lies thick and heavy over us as I start my car and pull out of our lot. Indigo’s pulling away, or trying to, and I have no idea why.
If she’s afraid, she can join my club. Fear is my middle name, especially when it comes to the people I care about. I’ve failed at protecting someone deeply important to me before…and there’s no way in hell I’d allow it to happen again. I know my reasons, but what are hers?
I glance at her as I pull onto the road, and find the delicate lines of her profile staring back at me. She’s completely still, and I’d think she was at peace—if her fingers weren’t drumming a furious beat against the center console.
>
“Game time. One question.”
She turns at the sound of my voice, and her plump bottom lip pulls between her teeth as she evaluates my profile. “Now?”
I shrug. “Why not?”
She accepts, the way I knew she would. I’ve never seen Indigo Stone back away from a challenge. “Shoot.”
“What scares you?”
Silence.
And into that silence, she screams a thousand words I wish I could hear.
Then: “I’m scared of people.”
I glance at her, and the expression on her face is full of so much anguish and sadness I almost jerk the steering wheel and yank the car off the road.
I take her hand in mine, but I stay silent. I want her to tell me more, to open up to me.
I want her to trust me. Maybe there was a time when I didn’t want to get close to a woman, but Indigo has changed that. She’s nothing like any woman I’ve ever met, and she’s definitely different from Hadara. She’s someone who can take care of herself; between her tough exterior and kickass skills, she’s proven over and over that she doesn’t need my protection.
She blows out a breath. “Everything I know about relationships is tainted. It’s why I don’t have them…why I keep everyone at a distance. I don’t know how to trust anyone…especially when all I ever saw was people using each other or hurting each other over and over again.”
My chest is heavy, dead weight sitting right inside of me. “Who’d you see hurting each other?”
She swallows, the sound eating a hole through my insides. “ I told you hat I grew up with a mother who didn’t give two shits about anything but her next man and her next fix. Those two loves were always interchangeable for her. And I was nothing but a noose hanging around her neck. I watched men hurt her time and time again. What I didn’t say was that I was also hurt by the men in her life, and she allowed it to happen.”
My hand tightens on hers as rage courses through me. It threatens to choke me as the emotion clogs my throat and spreads through my veins like poison. “Fuck. I didn’t know, Indy.”
She shrugs, staring down at our hands. “Not many people do. Russ is the one who got me out, mentored me and took care of me until I graduated from high school and was able to enter the academy. He found me at the scene of a crime when I was sixteen; he was the arresting officer. I was guilty, but he gave me a chance. Stuck by me. If it weren’t for him…I’d be behind bars by now. Or worse.”
Swallowing the bile threatening to rise in my throat at the thought of Indigo as a teenage girl with no one she could count on, trying to protect herself from men three times her size and twice her age…I want to break something so bad my limbs start to shake.
But her warm fingers wrapped around mine squeeze my hand. “So people scare me more than anything in this world, Lawson. But you?” Her voice drops to a whisper. “I can’t figure out why you don’t.”
I glance at her and find her big, deep eyes locked on me.
“Thank you,” I murmur, bringing her hand to my lips. “For telling me that. For trusting me with your past.”
She offers me a small smile.
And I mean it. I’m honored that Indy keeps opening up to me.
I squeeze her hand and then release it as I pull up to the dock. “You ready?”
She nods, her expression shuttering. “You know I am.”
I nod. “Let’s do this fast and get out.”
We bail out of the car and walk quickly to the warehouses across from the docks. My car is parked on the street for a quick exit once Indigo is in the McLaren. I scan our surroundings as we move, and I can’t shake the uneasy feeling that prickles the hair on the back of my neck. I’ve never done a blind mission before. I’m used to having a team of people who have my back, but right now it’s just me and Indigo. And the responsibility of making sure she gets to the other side of this without a scratch weighs heavy on my shoulders.
My senses work overtime, registering every sound, every movement around us on the darkened street as we make our way to the terminals beside the docks.
“My contact at the Port Authority gave me the information on the terminal the shipping company uses.” She scans the numbers painted in white block numbering on the cement. We duck around huge shipping containers donning the matching numbers, looking for the one containing our car.
When we find the orange container holding the McLaren, I let Indigo step in front of me. She opens the panel that covers the keypad beside the rolling garage door. Putting in the code her contact gave her from memory, I breathe a sigh of relief when two beeps accompanied by a green light tell us that we’re in. I shove the garage door upward and we stride inside.
The container holds a dozen cars, but it only takes us a second to spot the McLaren.
The car is a thing of beauty.
It hugs the cement ground, its large, black-rimmed wheels giving the roadster a fiercely intimidating look. Pearly white with orange streaks running down the curved sides and between the black spokes of the rims, the car looks more futuristic space mobile than a car you’d drive out on the open road.
“Fuck me, it’s gorgeous,” I breathe.
Indigo rolls her eyes and gives me a shove toward the car. “Stop drooling, Snyder. I’ll watch our backs while you get her started. Then we can get the hell out of here.”
Nodding, I take my pack from my shoulder and extract the tools I need to break into the car and get it started. I’ve just knelt beside the driver’s door when the sound of air being forcibly expelled from someone’s lungs jerks my head up again.
Indigo’s feet are a foot off the ground as she’s yanked against the chest of a man standing behind her. His arm wraps around her throat, cutting off her air supply, and the gleam of a wicked-looking knife glints in the fluorescent light.
The blood inside my veins turns to ice, and I drop my tools and take a step in their direction. My vision is clouded with the color red, and there’s no way the man wearing a black mask currently holding Indigo is going to live to see tomorrow.
But before I can make it more than halfway to where they stand, Indigo sends her head back against the man’s nose. A sickening crack rents the air as bones break, and he drops her back to the floor as he grabs for his bleeding nose.
Indigo’s eyes flash as she screams at me. “Get the damn car started!”
Then she turns to the man, lightning fast, and sends a hard kick straight to his groin. When I see him go down, I turn and double my speed, unlocking the McLaren’s door and sinking onto the buttery leather of the driver’s seat. With one eye on Indigo and the masked man, who’s slow to get up, I pull the wires I need to start the ignition.
When the man does stand, he comes at Indigo with a fury that stops the breath from reaching my lungs. The engine roars to life, and I’m out of the car again and pulling my gun from the holster at my side.
Without bothering to call out to the man or tell him to freeze, I squeeze off a shot before he can get his hands on Indigo. He goes down, skittering backward as one hand flies to his shoulder where blood pools against the black fabric of his shirt.
His masked eyes glance down at his wound before flashing back to me. They bounce over Indigo as a snarl leaves him, but then he turns and disappears around the corner of the shipping container’s door.
Indigo flies toward me, flinging herself into the passenger seat as I climb back into the car. We both slam our doors shut and I turn to look her over. My heart beats against my ribs with alarming violence, but I can’t find an injury on her.
Thank fuck. “Are you okay?”
She nods, her voice breathless as she answers. “Drive.”
I do. Glancing in the rearview mirror every few seconds to make sure we’re not being followed, my heartbeat pumps in my throat as I careen across the city, sliding through yellow lights just before they turn. I’m taking a risk, knowing a police officer could pull me over at any second, blowing my cover, but right now I don’t give a fuck. I have on
e destination in mind: Hawke’s garage.
21
INDIGO
“What the fuck was that?”
As soon as we enter the garage and find Hawke, Eli, and some of Eli’s flanking security team, Lawson explodes. Rage runs off of him in currents, and before I can blink he’s across the garage floor with the barrel of his pistol pressing against Eli’s neck.
Eli’s eyes don’t widen, and he holds up a hand to the three huge gorillas who move in on Lawson.
Hawke’s hands rise into the air. “Hey, easy. Easy.”
Lawson speaks through gritted teeth. I don’t try to pull him off of Eli, because I want an answer to his question just as badly as Lawson does. During the fifteen-minute drive from the docks to the garage, I figured out the same thing Lawson must have: We weren’t the only thieves Eli hired to steal the McLaren.
Eli’s expression is almost amused, even with the cold barrel of a gun poking him in the temple, and it’s the first clue I have that the man might just be insane. Really, truly crazy.
“Answer me, Eli. The clock is ticking, and when I’m in a mood like this, there’s no telling what I might do.” Lawson’s voice is nothing but a growl, feral and full of iron grit.
“What, exactly”—Eli’s voice is eerily calm—“are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the fact that you sent us to steal that car for you.” Lawson inclines his head toward the garage where we parked the McLaren. “But you also sent someone else to do the same job. And that someone almost killed my girlfriend.”
Eli’s gaze flicks toward me, not with concern but with boredom. “She looks fine to me.”
Lawson sucks in a deep breath, and a vein at his temple throbs. I step forward and place a hand on his back.
“I am,” I inform Eli. “No thanks to you. What, you didn’t trust us to complete the job?”
