Stealing His Thunder (Masters of Adrenaline)

by Sparrow Beckett

  So she had to find a way to get the money herself. No more relying on Fox. No more getting swept up in his exciting world and his . . . fucking hot as hell body . . .

  Ugh.

  Her finger slipped off the button and she let out a loud grunt. Now she’d have to start over.

  A voice close by said, “Did you hear that?”

  She ducked down behind the front of a Subaru.

  “Hear what?” someone asked.

  “I don’t know. I thought I heard a voice.”

  Fuck. Two people in uniforms were walking to their cars, only a few rows away. How the fuck had she missed that?

  Breathing fast, she sat back on her heels but leaned a little too far and started to fall. She thunked into the car behind her and a shrill alarm pierced the air.

  Motherfucker. Her luck was shit tonight. Good thing she wasn’t a gambler.

  The voices moved closer, sounding worried. Addison jumped to her feet, stayed crouched, grabbed her bag then snuck around to the other side of the car, avoiding their line of vision.

  As soon as she thought she was in the clear, she stood up and ran like hell and didn’t look back.

  By the time she reached her car, parked down the road, she was winded and ready to pass out. She leaned over, bracing herself with hands on her knees, trying to steady her racing heart. This was not going well. Did she really suck at this? Was she hopeless at stealing cars without Fox?

  God that sounded pathetic.

  But it was true. She couldn’t do this without him. She’d been almost gifted at it once, but even if she got that back, just stealing them wasn’t enough.

  She should be focusing on school, though. A straight and narrow life. Internships and job prospects were right there on the horizon. Lately, she’d sworn that wasn’t for her, but the possibility of flunking school was a wake-up call. And now she was forced to figure out what was more important in life. Passion or stability?

  In her car, she let her head flop back against the headrest, feeling further and further away from finding the answers she needed.

  Her phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out.

  Fox. Of course.

  With tears prickling her eyes, she declined the call and drove home.

  ***

  As soon as Addison finished her exam for her Wireless Communications course, she headed into the university lobby to log into her school account to check on her grades. She’d turned in an overdue assignment a few days ago and hoped it would bring her grade up to passing. Dr. Penn said he’d post the grades this afternoon.

  After the log-in screen, she scrolled through her profile, looking for the results. She needed at least a C to stay in the program. Not that she was sure she wanted to stay in the program but if she was leaving, she wanted it to be her idea and her timing. Nobody else’s.

  Finally, she found what she was looking for and exhaled a breath. C+.

  Thank god.

  She leaned back against the recliner and shut her eyes for a moment. Exhaustion swept over her, and now that the exam was over, she finally felt it.

  “Wanna get some lunch?” Mariella asked.

  Addison popped open her eyes to see her roommate standing over her.

  “What are you doing here?” Culinary school was the next building over so they didn’t often run into each other.

  “Came here to take you out. You’ve been stressed about this all week.” She smiled. “Come on. I’m buying.”

  “Awesome.” Addison shut her laptop and shoved it in her bag then followed her friend toward the exit.

  “How do you think you did on the exam?” Mariella asked.

  “If I get anything above a C, I’m crediting your midnight brownie batch. They helped keep me awake to study.”

  Mariella laughed then winked. “I added a secret ingredient just for you.”

  Addison felt her eyes widen. “Pot?”

  “Noooo.” She scowled at her. “5-hour Energy.”

  “Huh. No wonder my heart’s been racing all morning.”

  “And we’re going to a real restaurant, too, not the cafeteria. You pick.” Mariella tugged her toward the parking lot. “I don’t think I’ve seen you eat an actual meal in weeks. Consider this an intervention.”

  “Can I drink while we’re there?” Addison asked grumpily. A drink sounded really good right then. She was tired of being on edge about everything. She was tired of being sad and missing Fox while trying not to go crawling back to him.

  Mariella nodded emphatically pressing the key fob to unlock her Honda Civic. “Absolutely. I’m driving anyway, and I’m also hoping you’re going to spill all the crazy shit you seem to be hiding lately.”

  There was no way in hell she could spill the beans to anyone, let alone Mariella. Damn. She wouldn’t be getting that drink after all.

  Chapter 16

  It never ceased to amaze him how easy technology made it to steal cars. Far from the risky methods his uncle had been trained in back in the day, now it was about timing and technology. High-tech, expensive cars made customers feel safer but in reality, their security systems had some pretty big flaws.

  Fox was going to take advantage of those tonight. He stuffed the rest of his equipment in what looked like an ordinary toolbox then headed outside. Luke and Atlas were loading up the car parked in the driveway.

  Six cars in one night. It was crazy. They were crazy for taking the job. It wasn’t as if they couldn’t say no, or didn’t ever say no—on the contrary, they’d become more and more selective as time went on—but the payout for this job was huge, and proving themselves capable of a big job like this gave them the choice to opt out of pretty much anything in the future without losing face.

  He’d looked over the target sheet. Relatively easy marks. Delivery was local and the orders weren’t hard to find between the city and the wealthy housing developments close by. Their buyer was leaving the country in two days and wanted the cars at the warehouse tomorrow so he could look them over before he left.

  Atlas nudged him. “Why do we have to do the manual labor while you direct things?”

  “Because I’m the mastermind.”

  Luke snorted as he shut the door of the Cadillac behind him.

  “I thought I was the mastermind,” Atlas objected.

  “You’re the computer mastermind. I’m the . . .”

  “Evil genius?” Luke interrupted.

  Fox grinned. “Having lax principals regarding the laws of personal property isn’t the same as evil. Besides, unlike me, the evil genius always gets the girl.”

  It was a running joke between them. There was a big difference between what they did and true evil. They had no hang-ups about the profession. Not only did they pay their taxes, but they donated to charity and took care of their family and friends. They didn’t hurt anyone and they didn’t steal from the poor. Really, they moved property around. If anyone suffered from what they did, it was the big insurance companies.

  “Finish loading up,” he said. “I’m gonna try calling Addison.”

  “You got it, boss,” Atlas answered sarcastically.

  Luke followed him into the house.

  “The point of me coming in here was for a little privacy, fuckstick.”

  His cousin leaned against the door frame and gave him a smile that flashed his dimples. “Don’t do it.”

  “Don’t do what?” Fox snapped, irritation sharpening his words. Fucking Luke always acted like everything was a joke. Knowing him the way Fox did, he could read the true concern behind the typical glib facade, but he wasn’t in the mood to laugh at himself right now. Maybe the guys thought he was being ridiculous, but having things end—or not end—like this was eating at him.

  “Don’t call her again. Give her some space to figure things out,” Luke said, his dark eyes amused. “I
know the pussy is good, but using your hand for a few more weeks won’t kill you.”

  “You’re a dick, you know that? You seriously think that’s all she is to me at this point?”

  Luke sighed and scrubbed a hand over his face. “No, I know better. Addison is awesome. If you weren’t into her I’d finally have proof you’re a complete idiot.”

  “Oh, like you needed more proof,” Fox said sourly.

  “Nah. Licking that pole and getting stuck when we were in Toronto pretty much sealed the deal on that one.”

  “That happens to a lot of people!” Fox growled.

  “Not when they’re twenty-two.”

  “I was drunk and you were the one who dared me to do it.” The three of them had gone there for Atlas’s nineteenth birthday, since it was the legal drinking age there, and had what was now a very blurry weekend.

  Luke’s white teeth flashed and he started the rolling laugh that made Fox smile even though he really didn’t want to. Bastard.

  “I still say you should have let Atlas piss on your tongue.”

  Fox snorted, but inwardly thanked God for his cousin and brother. When his life went to shit, they were the only ones who kept him grounded. “Oh, will you fuck off so I can make an ass of myself in peace?”

  Luke shook his head in exasperation. “Do what you want. You always do.” He walked back into the garage, and Fox stared at his phone.

  He had been hoping to hear from Addison tonight of all nights, before he had to put all of his attention into the job. At least she’d been texting him excuses about why she couldn’t see him for the last few days. It was, sadly, better than nothing.

  Something had happened the day they’d moved her grandmother. Several times now he’d replayed the whole day in his mind, going over conversations, body language, nonverbals. Had he laid it on too thick with her dad? He’d been trying to sound committed to her, but no one had mentioned anything crazy like weddings or babies. It had been a nice, normal meeting. They’d gotten her grandmother’s belongings moved. She’d sneaked a kiss from him a few times when no one was looking, but he’d behaved, hard as that had been.

  Nothing. He couldn’t come up with a single reason why she was suddenly blowing him off unless it had been the money. He really hadn’t wanted to think that about her.

  He dialed her number and the phone rang several times before her voice mail picked up.

  Frustrated, he hung up without leaving a message then stuffed his phone in his pocket.

  If it really had just been the money, why tell him she wanted to work off the debt rather than just accepting his initial offer to give her the money, no strings attached? To save face?

  She didn’t seem to be the kind of girl that liked stringing guys along, but he was starting to feel like the biggest fucking idiot on the planet. The thought of never seeing her again twisted like a knife in his gut. It was totally possible he’d misread things with her, or had wanted too much, too fast. But she was so fucking perfect it had been hard to hold himself back.

  After all the time they’d spent together working on things and hanging out and talking, why had she agreed to be exclusive? Why had she introduced him to her family and called him her boyfriend?

  It had been stupid, but when the word “boyfriend” had left her mouth he’d felt like a high school kid again—like the short guy that people made fun of—but this time the girl he’d fallen in love with loved him too. That whole day had been surreal. He’d let himself think that maybe they had a future together. Even if she decided to focus on her engineering rather than steal cars, they could have made a go of it. But too much time had passed now, and her excuses just kept getting more ridiculous.

  When she’d finally texted him back, she’d said she’d had the flu. She’d refused to have him bring her anything. Then she’d had homework to catch up on, then she’d had bad cramps from her period and didn’t want company. Then her cousin was visiting from out of town. Last night she’d promised to help her mother reorganize her scrapbooking supplies.

  Why didn’t she just get it over with and tell him to go away? His emotions swung back and forth between angry and hurt, and he didn’t know what to do with either one. He didn’t have the patience to work in the garage, so he’d been driving around in complete silence for days. Every fucking song was somehow about her.

  Whatever. He was done chasing after her. The problem was he couldn’t hang out with the guys because they inevitably brought her up, and he couldn’t sit in his room, because he’d taken her on every available surface.

  Lying alone in bed was the worst. As he tried to fall asleep, intrusive, tormenting thoughts would find him. The conversations they’d had about their worldviews and their work would echo like she was in the room with him. He’d catch flashes of their moments together, even when he was trying to focus on anything else. The flirty, sassy looks she threw him, the scent of her hair, the look on her face when she knelt before him, all bravado forgotten when she put herself at his mercy. But the worst—the very worst—was the memory of the way she felt tucked into the curve of his body as she slept. Inadvertently, she’d made him feel so protective of her, and not knowing what was wrong or if she was okay was making him crazy.

  God, he was so stupidly in love with this girl. That she’d finally come to her senses about him made him regret warning her.

  Last night he’d washed his sheets twice to get rid of her scent, and after he’d remade the bed he’d lain awake, seriously pissed at himself for erasing her scent from his world.

  Instead, he’d wandered the house like a ghost, wishing he had an appetite or felt like drinking beer or watching television—anything to distract himself from reading and rereading their texts.

  Enough feeling sorry for himself. It was time to work.

  He tossed his toolbox into the Cadillac where Luke and Atlas waited. It was fast and would get him out of a tough predicament if he needed to. Not to mention he’d have to jet across the city several times over the course of the next five hours or so. He wished he could say the roads would be empty this time of night, but this was Vegas.

  “Ready?” he asked his cousin and brother.

  Atlas nodded.

  “I have to pee!” Luke said, snickering.

  “Are we there yet?” Atlas added.

  “Shut up and get in the car, asshats.” Fox slid into the driver’s seat and they took off toward their first mark in a fancy housing development not far north. He was playing chauffeur tonight, dropping each of them when they found their target then picking them back up after delivery. Atlas had hacked into the DMV to find every car in the city on the list. There were at least three or four of each model. Luckily, the details—like color—didn’t matter. If they couldn’t find the first on the list, they’d just move to the next until they did.

  They fell into silence as Fox pulled onto the highway. Before a big job, they often retreated into their minds—like a quiet meditation. They’d done this too many times to let nerves get the best of them, but they still needed to stay focused.

  As for Fox, he tried not to think of Addison but everything reminded him of her. The desert road brought back memories of when he’d first kissed her. Even the smell of the car reminded him of her. Fuck. If he didn’t get his head in the game soon, he was going to land all of their asses in jail.

  As he turned onto the residential street, he pushed her from his mind and set his focus entirely on his task. He drove by the house with a Lincoln Navigator, according to DMV records. Atlas, sitting in the passenger seat, searched for the car while Fox kept his eyes on the road. He didn’t slow down in case anyone was watching. Neighborhoods like this were suspicious of any car they didn’t recognize and quick to report anything odd. But it was late enough that most people were probably in bed.

  “It’s there,” Atlas said, his voice a rumble in the gloom.

 
Fox turned the corner then stopped and let his brother out. Luke handed him what looked like a briefcase. Idiot thieves dressed in black sweatpants and ski masks. They weren’t fucking ninjas and looking like that would get you killed in the places they stole from.

  Atlas was wearing black, yes, but in the form of a sharp business suit. That way, if anyone happened to peek outside their window, they’d see a man coming home late from work. Not a thug on the wrong side of town.

  As his brother strode confidently around the corner, back toward the target, Fox didn’t linger. He drove away, trusting he’d see Atlas shortly at the drop-off.

  Luke’s target was next. His cousin fiddled with one of the keyless entry duplicators Addison had built. They were headed into the city to scout the casino garages. A Porsche was flashy and men often took them into the city to impress people at the expensive nightclubs. It shouldn’t be hard to find one.

  Instead of a business suit, Luke was dressed in designer jeans and a trendy button-down shirt. With his hair slicked back and his charming smile, he looked like he was headed to the casino.

  Fox drove downtown, cursing the traffic. He kept his eye on the clock, which seemed to move faster than the traffic.

  “Pull down there,” Luke said, pointing to an alley between buildings.

  “It’s a dead end.”

  “No, it comes out at the valet pull-up for Crimson.”

  Fox arched a brow. “Crimson?”

  “It’s a new place. Supposedly run by vampires. I can’t tell if it’s supposed to be a joke or not but ever since one of the Denver Broncos was spotted there, it’s been packed with wannabe social climbers.”

  He sighed but pulled down the side street Luke had indicated.

  The dark alley looked like it led to the seedier parts of the city, but just when he was about to question his cousin, they emerged on the other side and right across the street from a short, dark-bricked building, with CRIMSON spelled out in a subdued gothic font next to the door.