She huffed and picked up her champagne glass, striding toward the window. The sun would be setting soon, and the fading sunlight painted a soft glow around her as she stopped at the wide pane of glass. “Well, I think I’m done here,” she said quietly.
“What?” He gulped down the champagne, slamming the glass down before he strode over to her.
She lifted a shoulder as if she didn’t have a care in the world and turned to face him. “Your brothers will never accept me. And I’m bored. I didn’t join you guys to be put on the sidelines. And I have an offer of something better. Something real. You’ve made it pretty clear that your brothers will always come first—”
“I didn’t say that.” He reached for her, clutched onto her hip. Desperation punched through him as he felt her slipping through his fingers. She couldn’t leave him. He couldn’t live without her.
“You don’t have to say it. And I get it. They’re your family. But I want something new. I want something fun. And I don’t want to come in last all the time anymore. When we first got together, you were so much fun.” Her tone was wistful.
He gritted his teeth as he tightened his hold. They’d managed to offload those pieces he’d taken without telling his brothers. It had been…exhilarating. She was right, he was putting her last, but he could change that. He would.
She just watched him.
He had to think. To act. Releasing his grip, he scrubbed a hand over his face. “What if you can be more active on the next job?”
She paused, eyeing him, the glass in her hand still, the little bubbles fizzing up. “What job?”
“They don’t have anything lined up yet. But…”
“But?”
“I heard them talking last night. They might have something in the works. Normally we don’t do jobs back-to-back like this. Especially after one that brought this much heat. But they got a tip on something.” He wasn’t going to give her any of the details. Not yet anyway.
“I’ll get a real role in this?”
“Yes.”
“And a full cut?”
He paused. “I don’t know. This will be sort of like training.”
She handed him her drink then, making a soft humming sound. “Here, finish mine. I’m not really thirsty anymore.”
She hadn’t even drunk any of it and he wasn’t letting this go to waste. Sighing, he took it and sat on the chair facing the window, staring out at the city expanding before him. As he watched the sun fading, the cityscape of Miami lighting up, everything blurred together in a haze of white and blue. God, he was so damn tired.
His glass fell from his fingertips, too heavy to hold anymore. He would close his eyes, just for a minute, as he tried to think of a way to make her stay. His brothers wouldn’t be up for a couple hours anyway. And he was so tired.
Why was he so tired?
Chapter 20
Ivy crossed her legs as she shifted toward Nash, her back to the two older Green brothers. She and Nash had taken Jones’s tip, and half a day later they were now across from the brothers in the hotel bar, waiting to see what they did next. The auction was still live—Genesis had sent her a link to it, though the actual painting hadn’t been listed. No, it was for a stupid print of dogs playing poker and she couldn’t bid without having a specific code. But she could still see the damn link, see the countdown as it taunted her.
Ticking down, second by second.
Unfortunately, she’d just got an alert on her phone that the Green brothers were officially wanted. So whatever evidence Interpol or the Feds had needed, they were no longer simply persons of interest. The Greens were officially wanted for murder. No one had doubted it from the beginning anyway, but the authorities must have gotten some kind of concrete evidence or something. Which changed things for her since she had their location.
“What’s that look?” Nash asked, taking a sip of his sparkling water. Neither of them were drinking, just blending in at the hotel bar.
“Grappling with my conscience.”
“Well, it’s always a good time to do the right thing.”
“You’re such a Boy Scout.” She sighed. “And you are one hundred percent right.”
“What is it?”
“Just got a notice that the Green brothers are officially wanted.” Sliding her cell phone over to him so he could read it, she kept her voice low enough for only him to hear. “There’s a domestic and international warrant out for their arrest.”
His eyes widened slightly. “What does this mean?”
“I could wait to tell law enforcement I know where they are and try to steal the painting back from them. They’ve got to have it somewhere at the hotel, especially with the auction so close. Or…” She pressed a finger to her temple. “I can call in law enforcement.”
“You’ll still get a portion of the fee, right?”
She nodded.
“It won’t be as much though, right?”
“Right.” Not nearly enough to cover the mortgage and back fees. No, she had to be the one to find the damn painting to get the fee. “But…I need to call the authorities anyway. They’re in a public place now. Fairly public anyway. Which increases the risk of innocent people getting hurt if things go sideways.” She pulled out her cell phone and started texting. It was time to call in the professionals. She had various options, but she had some Fed friends she trusted to handle this the right way. With no loss of life.
“Who are you contacting?”
“A Fed friend of mine.”
He stilled her hand and little tingles played up her arm at that brief touch. “I can talk to one of my bosses at Red Stone. His brother used to work with the Miami PD and he’s got a lot of contacts there. He could get SWAT down here faster than the Feds. Not to mention local law enforcement will likely be very grateful for you calling this tip in. Maybe you can use that with the insurance company. Get the piece out of evidence faster and maybe increase your fee?”
She tapped her finger against the shiny wood bar. “Okay, make the call.” Even if she didn’t get the full fee, these guys were killers and needed to be in jail.
Disappointment lanced through her but she squashed it. Four guilty assholes would be arrested soon, which was a good thing—even if it would cut her fee in half. It was still a lot and she could maybe make the shelter mortgage work with the bank. She shelved all those thoughts, however, as she watched Nash start texting. Then he motioned that he was going to make the call outside—so no one in here would overhear.
Ivy knew this was the right thing to do but it still sucked.
* * *
Nash hung back with Ivy, keeping his hand against the small of her back as they watched from the SWAT team’s command center—a hotel room on a different floor from the Green brothers. They’d pulled the hotel owner in for questioning so he couldn’t alert the Green brothers to their presence and now they were about to make their move.
Nash knew that under ninety-nine percent of circumstances, there was no way in hell that he and Ivy would have been allowed in here, but since he’d been the one to call Red Stone Security and they’d gotten SWAT into gear so quickly, they were giving him this favor.