Make Her Mine

It takes a lot of effort but I shut off the camera and stare at the blank screen of my laptop. Back to business. Ian Banner had texted me an hour ago. Let’s finish this. Monday night. Tell me where to meet.

That gives me five days. Five days to scout out the perfect drop spot and secure the area to make sure the handoff of $500K goes as smoothly as possible. Rich’s already chomping at the bit, asking me if we can’t talk him into meeting sooner. I told him to cool his heels for five more days. This will be my last job for him, the last risk I’ll ever have to take, so we’re going to do it right. Because damned if I’m going to get nabbed on our last gig ever.

I snap my laptop shut and grab my phone instead. One quick call later, I’ve got permission to head to the site I’m thinking about, the roof of a dirty businessman’s offices downtown. It’s remote and inaccessible, save for the few people who already work in the building—a short list that will be easy for us to vet. Plus, since we know the owner and his predilections, we can be reasonably sure no cops are going to bust in in the middle of our deal.

“Set it up,” Rich tells me when I call him to make the suggestion. “But remember. No mistakes this time. We need to be absolutely sure this Banner kid is going to follow through. Do whatever it takes to make sure because I want my fucking money.”

Whatever it takes. The threat rings in my ears long after I disconnect the phone. All I can think about is Skye, and the threat Man Bun had texted me just a little while ago. He’d offered to personally tail her if I can’t follow through and get Ian to deliver Rich’s money.

As I climb into my truck, checking the closest route from my place to the building, I realize I’ll pass right by Skye’s street. A fist clenches around my chest because I’m already desperate to see her again.

Resist, Stone.

But her brother is right. I’ve put her in danger by association. While Ian has agreed to play ball with us for now, I wouldn’t put it past Rich to try and secure his investment by threatening the target’s sister. Once again, his words ring in my ears. Whatever it takes, indeed.

I really will do whatever it takes to make sure Skye is protected. Even if it means breaking the unofficial restraining order I’ve given myself with regards to coming near her. I hope it doesn’t come to that—for her sake—but I’m also a greedy motherfucker who can’t get her face or touch out of my head.

It doesn’t take me long to reach her block. I roll down the street at the slowest possible speed I can without raising suspicion. No light in her windows. No one in the parking lot outside. Only a few stragglers day-drinking in the bar beneath her. There are three cars in her lot, all of them empty, all of them plates I remember seeing there before.

Nine cars parked on her side of the street. Four look familiar, the others could be people at the bar or visitors to the area.

Except…

My eyes catch on one of the cars. Black tinted windows. Expensive SUV. Exactly the type of obvious car Rich’s thugs are fond of. I drive past it and slow just beyond it, studying the rearview mirror. The windshield, by necessity, is not tinted as deeply as the side windows.

Sure enough, lounging in the passenger side seat, a cigarette in hand and earbuds in, sits Man Bun, bobbing his head to the music. My stomach churns and cold fury shoots through my veins. Wh

at the hell is he doing here?

But the answer to that is obvious. Staking out Skye. Guarding Rich’s investment. Making sure Ian pays the money back.

“Fuck,” I swear under my breath. I can’t go near her place, not right now. For all I know, Rich has had Man Bun tailing her for days already. He’d already know that we had a falling-out. It would look suspicious if I ran to her the minute Rich told me the end-date for this little game.

If she’d even let me inside the building, that is. I can’t blame her if she wouldn’t.

But there is one person who can get in. One person who can still protect her. I open my cell and tap on recent contacts. Stare Man Bun’s car down as I wait for the line to connect.

The moment it does, I don’t even wait for him to say hello. “Banner, this is Stone. We need to meet.” I shut my eyes and force myself to take a deep breath. Then continue driving past, not stopping at Skye’s, even though every instinct in my body screams at me to drag Man Bun out of that SUV and break him for even thinking about intimidating her.

“I told you,” Ian starts, the whine in his voice instantly grating my nerves, “I can’t meet you until—”

“We need to talk about your sister,” I interrupt. Because I could give a fuck less about drop dates right now. My only concern is Skye.

Less than ten minutes later, I’m parking beside Ian Banner’s car outside the site I plan to use for our drop. If Rich asks questions, I’ll just say it’s better to show Banner the joint now. Make sure it’ll work for both parties. This is, after all, an amicable exchange of money.

Ian slams his door hard and leans against it, studying me as I squint up at the rooftop far above us. Six stories of offices, and a scenic roof above that. I pull open the door to the lobby and hold it for Ian, who shoots me a suspicious glare as he crosses inside.

Neither of us speak until we’re through security, who take one glance at me and wave us on inside, clearly having been prepped by the owner already. In the elevator, he finally turns to me, his jaw clenched tight.

“What about my sister?” he spits. “Are you here to threaten her?”

“I could fucking kill you with my bare hands.” I turn the full force of my anger on him. On this punk ass who put his own flesh-and-blood in danger. He flinches and shrinks into the corner of the elevator. “You’re the one who got her into this mess. Now there’s people gunning for her.”

He tenses, his face visibly paling, eyes going wide. At least he still appears to give some small shit for what he’s done. “Why? It’s me they want.”

“They want you but they need insurance. What better way than by threatening your little sister?”

“Says the guy they hired to fool her.” Ian actually has the audacity to roll his eyes. Before I can stop myself, I slam my fist into the side wall of the elevator, hard enough to make the lights on the console blink. Ian’s lower lip trembles.