Stealing His Thunder (Masters of Adrenaline)

by Sparrow Beckett

  She gave her head a shake. Of course it was. They were stealing and chopping cars illegally. The place was bound to seem shady.

  Slowly, she crept up to the front gate. Fuck. They hadn’t told her what to do from here. Was there a password or something? Should she knock three times at one of the warehouse doors?

  Uncertain, she stopped the car just outside the gate and started to type a text to Luke. Something banged outside her window. Startled, she dropped her phone and turned to see a man standing outside her door.

  Shit.

  Before she could hit the lock button, he opened the door then yanked her out of the car, his hand wrapped in her shirt.

  “Hey!” she shouted, trying to steady herself. “What the fuck?”

  “Who are you?” he demanded.

  Fuck fuck fuck.

  “I’m . . .” She flipped through an array of potential answers and ways they could end badly. “I’m delivering the Mustang.”

  He shook her then reached under his shirt and pulled out a handgun.

  Fear slammed into her. She wrenched free from his grip. Heart pounding, she put her hands up in surrender. “I work with Fox. I’m just delivering the car.”

  The man narrowed his eyes at her. “He didn’t mention a girl.”

  Figured.

  She wondered if she should appear more like a stone-cold criminal and less like a weak-willed imposter. Mustering all of her courage and bravado, she bit back, “Interesting. Well, he didn’t mention a man would threaten me with a gun either.”

  He snorted as he looked her up and down.

  Annoyed, she straightened her shoulders. “Do you want the car or not?”

  When he didn’t answer, she added, “’Cause I have other buyers . . .”

  He took a step toward her, cutting her off. The cold look on his face made her knees weaken. She was an adrenaline junkie but she’d never had her life threatened before. She flirted with danger, not with death. Now look where it’d landed her.

  A car pulled up, screeching to a halt beside them. She exhaled a sigh of relief at the familiar face inside. Luke jumped out.

  “Whoa, whoa, whoa!” He ran toward them, his hand out as if he could stop him from shooting from there. “She’s with us!”

  The man lowered his arm and she relaxed. “You can’t bring people in without some warning.”

  Luke nodded. “Yeah. I got that.”

  Atlas pulled up soon after and the man analyzed the cars then called someone from the warehouse who drove each car into the gated lot. Addison waited, her nerves twisting in her belly. This was the real deal. Nothing like having a gun pointed at your head for it to really sink in.

  After the man shook hands pleasantly with Luke and Atlas, he arranged for one of his guys to drive them home. She spent the ride trying to decide what to tell Fox about tonight. Would he know by looking at her that she’d helped? She had a decent poker face but could she lie to him? If he asked her outright, she’d have to tell him the truth. Lying to strangers was one thing but to Fox? She loved him too much for that.

  But there was an important part she just had to omit.

  “Don’t tell Fox about the whole gun thing,” she said when they’d arrived at the house and exited the car.

  Atlas arched a brow. “Do you think I want to be murdered by my own brother?”

  Chapter 18

  A hissed intake of breath caught his attention, and he forced his eyelids open past the painkiller’s haze. It was bright in the room and airy, but he itched and longed for a shower. From the corner of his vision, he could see Addison sitting on the edge of the bedside chair, her expression pinched.

  “Oh!” She popped up onto her feet. “I didn’t mean to wake you. Should I go?”

  Addison? He felt like shit. What was she doing here? Not that he was about to complain. He’d driven by her place a couple of times in the days before the job like some sort of pathetic stalker.

  Maybe she’d finally decided her law-abiding life was the better path. She’d have been right, if that was the case.

  Even so, he wanted to jump out of bed and block her path to the door, but multiple attempts to get out of bed in his weakened state had taught him to be more cautious.

  “Wait,” he called, hating how frail he sounded. He groaned inwardly. A display of weakness was hardly going to appeal to a woman like Addison. Dr. Lewis had told him he’d lost a lot of blood, but he hated feeling like this, especially in front of her.

  She paused at the door and turned back, concern in her gaze. As soon as he tried to rise she was back at his side.

  “Lie down!” She put her hand on his shoulder and pushed him carefully back. His arm hurt like a bitch even through the drugs. The graze on his ribs was nothing compared to his arm.

  “Sure, you disappear on me for a week then come back all bossy. I think you’re forgetting that’s supposed to be me, not you.”

  She didn’t respond with the attitude he’d expected her to. Her lips were pressed in a solemn line, her spark gone.

  “No sassy comeback?” he questioned.

  “I don’t think this is funny.”

  He felt like he was being scolded by a worried parent.

  She gazed down at him, her expression intent. “You scared me.”

  Scared? So she still cared about him? Her eyes welled with tears that filled him with hope.

  But she needed to steer clear of this life. What if she’d been the one shot instead of him? The thought made him nauseous.

  For a moment they just stared at each other in silence, but the thoughts in his head were conflicted and deafening. He wanted to tell her to leave but he also wanted her to refuse. Selfish idiot. She had to go while she still could. Before she died or ended up in prison.

  “This isn’t the life I want for you, Addison,” he said finally. “Maybe this is the first time we’ve gotten shot at in the past ten years, but it doesn’t mean it won’t happen again. If it was you? If you got hurt, or worse? What the hell would I do?”

  “You don’t think I have those same thoughts about you?” she bit back angrily. Some of her spark was returning. “Our work comes with risks, but so does crossing the street. You’re the one who got shot. Maybe I should be telling you to stop stealing cars!”

  He glared at her, but she glared back. Hellion. Just the way he liked her—aside from crushed beneath him and begging to come.

  “But I’m not telling you to do that because it wouldn’t be right. Stealing cars is part of who you are. It’s who I am, too, and I’ll do it with or without you.” Her voice got louder with each word. “You don’t get to make my life decisions, and you especially don’t get to choose who I love!”

  Love?

  Her eyes suddenly went round and her cheeks reddened. Clearly, she hadn’t meant to blurt that out.

  As for him, he was ridiculously in love with this girl, and for her sake he couldn’t fight to keep her. Of course he’d realized he was in love with her after he’d already decided they should stay apart. But when the bullet hit, and he’d thought he’d crash or bleed out, the only regrets he had about dying young were that Atlas and Luke would suffer for it, and that he’d never get to say good-bye to Addison. They hadn’t been together that long, but what was time compared to how he felt about her?

  “You love me?” he asked her, feeling stupid, but needing to hear it again. It was better than any of the painkillers the good doctor had been feeding him.

  She swallowed hard and nodded then stared at the ground, looking like she was trying to regain her composure. “When I found out you were hurt I was so scared. Then they told me you were okay, and I planned this big speech.” Tears spilled over and she brought her gaze to his. “Of course, my speech was much more eloquent and I certainly hadn’t meant to yell it at you.” She chuckled nervously.

  He caught
the edge of her T-shirt and tugged her closer.

  “You’re hurt!” she protested, trying to squirm away, but he was determined not to let her go.

  “Yes, and you’re going to make it worse if you fight me.”

  With a sigh, she gave in and settled carefully next to him on the bed.

  “Is this okay?” she asked, holding her head up awkwardly. “Am I hurting you?”

  “Shhh.” He pushed her head onto his chest. “You’re perfect.” Emotions overwhelmed him, and he stroked her hair, trying to get himself under control.

  But the truth was, she made him feel the opposite of in control. Wild and passionate and half-insane. And she didn’t even know it. Or maybe she did.

  When she finally relaxed against him, he said, “You know I love you, too, don’t you?”

  She sniffled once. “You do?” Her voice sounded so small and unsure.

  “Yes.” He kissed her hair several times, enjoying the smell and the memories it brought him.

  He paused, knowing he shouldn’t even ask, but her rejection of him still stung like a bitch. “I know you’re pissed at me, but will you just tell me what I did to make you bolt? I know I’m pushy in bed, but I thought . . . Did I push you too hard?”

  Guilt twisted a sick knife in his belly. He’d been going over their last night together again and again—had been for days—and he didn’t recall any point where she’d seemed truly upset. Had he missed something?

  “It wasn’t your fault, and I’m so, so sorry about that. I just . . . freaked out. I got a letter from the school saying I was failing, and I needed to decide what my priorities were. You’re too strong of a lure, so I had to avoid you until I knew what I really wanted.” She laughed shakily. “I’d follow you into hell, but I wanted to make sure hell was a good career choice.”

  She’d follow him into hell? He knew the feeling.

  “When your life flashes before your eyes, some things come into sharp focus,” he told her, rubbing his hand down her arm. “I thought I was going to die, and all I could think about was how the guys would feel like shit, and how I’d never see you again. Those were my two regrets.”

  “When Luke texted me, I drove over here like a maniac,” she said tightly. “If you’d died on me without giving me the chance to tell you how I felt about you . . .”

  “What?” He smiled. “You would have killed me?” It would be nice if there was some way to figure out whether this was real or just a hallucination from the drugs. If it was the drugs, he hoped they never wore off.

  “Yup.”

  He laughed then winced at the fresh pain.

  “But I’m serious, Fox,” she said, her tone stern. “Either you accept me as I am, or you don’t. I don’t expect you to change who you are for me, so don’t expect me to change for you. You can’t wrap me in Bubble Wrap and lock me away. That’s not the kind of life I want and definitely not my kink.”

  Could he live with that—with her being at risk? It felt like they’d rehashed this argument a million times already, and he had to piss or get off the pot. He liked to consider himself a modern man, but knowing it wasn’t fair to expect her to give up what she wanted to suit him didn’t make him any more comfortable with her being in danger. He’d tried to talk her out of this life so many times, but if she was going to be stealing anyway, didn’t it make sense to keep her close so he could try to be there for her if there was trouble? She was probably in more danger on her own, without backup, than she would be with them.

  “What are you going to do about school?” he pressed, in a last ditch effort to make her see reason.

  She sighed. “I’m putting it on hold for a year. I need to get my life in order before I go back. I think I’m going to quit my part-time job, too, although I’m pretty sure I got my ass fired when I ran out of the store midshift to get over here after you got shot. I haven’t shown up for two of my shifts since then either.”

  His mind flipped through several other reasons she shouldn’t follow him down this path but he was getting tired again. And she felt too cozy here on his chest, he didn’t want to start a fight.

  “There’s one more thing . . .”

  “What?” he asked as mildly as he could, even though his adrenaline was buzzing to the surface. His mind immediately and inexplicably went to his Norwegian tattoo artist buddies. Maybe he was too tired to be jealous right now, but he could feel it trying to make an appearance. If she’d done something crazy like let them have her, he’d probably forgive her anyway. They hadn’t formally broken up, but they’d both known they weren’t together either.

  “It’s just that . . .” She winced. “There’s no job to finish.”

  He frowned. “What do you mean? Did we lose the contract? They didn’t give us a couple of days because of Marcel?”

  “It’s finished. While Dr. Lewis was working on you, we went out and finished the job.” She looked up at him, her expression tentative. Then she smiled apologetically. “But hey, that means you have all the time you need to relax and heal.”

  He wanted to be pissed, but he was so damned relieved that her confession wasn’t about Loke, Rune, and Geir that he couldn’t even be mad. The job was done, she was safe. Maybe he’d be talking to the guys later about putting her in harm’s way like that, but if he was going to let her work with them, their good name was her good name too. That they’d finished the job even though he’d been shot was only going to improve their reputation.

  “Okay.” He sighed and leaned his head back against the pillows. “But until I feel you’re up to speed on the skill set the rest of us have, you’re going to be answering to me.”

  “What? That’s it?” She frowned. “You’re not mad? No threats of locking me in your dungeon?”

  “No. I’d imagined something so much worse that the truth was a relief.” He chuckled. “But we’ll be talking about the dungeon part as soon as I’m stronger.” He winked at her.

  “What could be worse than me replacing you on the job?” she asked incredulously.

  “Honestly? Maybe it’s just because I’m still out of it, but I thought you were going to tell me you went to get another tattoo.” He let the implication hang in the air, but she didn’t catch on to what he meant right away.

  Her brow furrowed, then her eyes widened. “You didn’t really think I’d do three guys at once? Seriously, Fox? Not even if it was three of you.”

  “No?”

  She scooted up and kissed him carefully, like he might fall apart from the pressure of her lips. Maybe he would.

  When she pulled back, she smirked. “You let me fuck you with a strap-on and I’ll consider a three way with you and your clones.”

  “Hmm. I’ll consider that very carefully.”

  “Oh, I’m sure.”

  “Is it bad that I don’t want my clones touching you even if I’m there?”

  She rolled her eyes. “Oh my god, you’re ridiculous.”

  For a few minutes they lay on his bed in contented silence, their hands interlaced. He could feel himself drifting off again. “You don’t even want to know if I slept with someone else after you left me?”

  “No. I know you didn’t.”

  “So cocky, my girl.” He smiled. They suited each other so damn well. Knowing she loved him back, and relieved he was giving up the stupid idea of splitting up made him feel like it was safe to sleep for another week.

  His eyelids wouldn’t open wider than slits, but he could focus enough to rub his thumb over her bottom lip. She nipped it, and even in his condition, it sent a flash of heat through him. Today would be pretty damn close to perfect if only he had the energy to roll her beneath him and reclaim her. Exhaustion was making it hard to breathe, and his eyes were shutting.

  “Sleep,” she coaxed.

  “Stay.”

  “Okay, Fox.” Her lips brushed his forehead. “
When you wake up I’ll be waiting.”

  Sleep overtook him, but when it did he was smiling like an idiot.

  Chapter 19

  Miles of desert road disappeared under their tires as scenery sped past either side of them. With their high beams the only source of light so far away from the city, it felt like traveling through space. Maybe another girl would have liked loud music on this kind of drive, but for Addison, the roar of the motor was more exhilarating than any guitar solo. With the Spyder’s top down, and Fox driving like they were trying to qualify for Nascar, there was no chatting.

  Where was he taking her? It seemed like the long, straight stretch had gone on for eternity by the time he pulled off in the middle of nowhere. They followed a smaller, dirt road that curved behind a low rise. When he parked alongside the road, he turned off the ignition but left the lights blazing. Open desert yawned before them. Behind, the hill concealed them from the main road.

  Fox stalked around to her side of the car and yanked the door open. He looked . . . evil. The dark heat in his gaze, paired with a single-minded intensity and the powerful way he moved made her quiver in her seat.

  “What are we doing here?” she asked, smirking up at him. “Some sort of romantic midnight picnic? You should have told me. I would have sent you some Pinterest links.”

  “So we could eat watercress sandwiches from mason jars?” He arched a brow. “Get out of the car, Addison.”

  “But I’m not dressed for a romantic walk,” she protested coyly. “I’m wearing flip-flops, and I don’t even see a beach.” She surveyed the desert pointedly.

  He leaned over her and picked her up out of the car, then threw her over his shoulder.

  “Hey!” she protested. “Put me down, Tarzan. Your arm is barely healed.”

  Without a word, he walked around her open car door and put her down again on the other side. He turned her roughly and shoved her facedown on the hood.

  He was in that kind of mood, was he? Mmm . . . she approved. The car would be worth less if they scratched it before they sold it off, but hey, if he didn’t care, why should she?