The Kingdom (Preacher Brothers 1)

The Preacher Boys.

That’s what they called us.

Four brothers born and raised in the criminal lifestyle… in stealing.

Professional thieves. That’s what we were. And we were damn good at it. Take what we wanted with no regrets, no repercussions. We didn’t have attachments, no worries, and sure as hell no women to screw up the plan. And that’s what made our lives work.

The job was set—should have been an in-and-out situation. Easy.

But then I saw her, Amelia, and she wasn’t part of the plan. I instantly wanted her, had to have her. She was like this drug, and I was desperately addicted.

I’d do anything, whatever it took to make her mine.

When her life was in danger, when it was Cullen, my own brother, about to hurt her, there was only one thing I could do.

Take her, keep her with me, and make her see she was meant to be mine.

But to Cullen, she was a liability. He wouldn’t stop, not when all he could see was making sure the family was safe, that the Preacher Boys were in the clear.

What he didn’t know was, family or not, Amelia was the one thing I’d always wanted, and I wouldn’t let anyone take her away from me.

Chapter One

Dom

It was almost as good as sex. Hell, in some instances, it was better than having a tight little piece of ass in my bed.

I was a professional fucking thief. This was what I did for a living. This was what got me hard.

My blood raced, my heart pounded, and adrenaline pumped through my veins.

Despite what we were about to do—lift from this motherfucking jewelry store—my mind was crystal clear. It always was. It had to be. Any error, any small discrepancy in the plan, would mean we’d get pinched. No way were any of us going back to fucking jail.

I focused on the jewelry store across the street and brought the walkie-talkie up to my mouth. “Frankie?” I prompted into the piece of plastic, hearing static before the click of him answering.

“We’re all set,” he said, and I shoved the walkie into the glovebox.

I turned my attention toward Wilder, who sat in the driver seat. Cullen was with Frankie at the back of the store, making sure things went smoothly on their end. I had my skull mask looped around my neck but reached down and pulled it up, covering the lower half of my face.

I looked at Wilder and watched as he did the same thing. He looked over at me, the white grinning skull jaw on the black material looking a little ominous.

“You ready?” I asked.

He nodded once in response. I focused forward once more, then looked down at my watch. The sun had already set, the lights in the store were off, and foot traffic was nonexistent.

“Owner was the only one left. Should be easy enough to get this done.” Wilder’s voice was muffled behind the fabric.

We’d been casing the jewelry store over the last week. We knew when they took their lunches, when shift change was. We knew what time the mailman dropped off their fucking letters and when the shipments arrived. And on this Thursday—today—they were due to get a box full of gems and diamonds.

It sure as fuck helped that the truck driver was an old cellmate of Frankie’s and had given us the tip. We’d kick him back a few for his troubles, and that would be that.

And then the front lights went off in the store, the owner pulling down the security bars over the window, and that was our cue. Wilder and I got out of the van, one that said Harrison Brothers Dry Cleaning and Services on the side. We wore matching uniforms, the name John stitched on the upper right-hand corner of Wilder’s shirt, and Clark stitched on mine.

Once across the street, we pressed our bodies up against the side of the building and looked around, making sure shit was legit and quiet. I looked over at Wilder and he nodded once.

And then we moved to the back, where we could see Cullen and Frankie sitting in the old-as-fuck sedan Cullen stole earlier today. The car was parked between the two buildings, the alley dark, no light penetrating.

Frankie and Cullen sat in the front seat, their skull masks covering the lower half of their faces, same as us.

The gem and diamond shipment had just been received an hour before. And although the vault the store had was pretty heavy duty, it wasn’t anything Wilder—our master locksmith and hacker—couldn’t crack.

“Four cameras on the exterior, two in the front, one on the side, and two in the back,” I spat as I double-checked my gear.

“Ready, Clark?” Wilder teased as he looked down at my name badge.

I lifted my hand and flipped him off.

Although we didn’t specifically need these fake-as-fuck uniforms, portraying something we weren’t was half the way to not getting caught. The other half was knowing how to get shit done and get it done right.