“I know, but the girls are here. Heaven is here. Jaxon and Quinn are here, and they might need you if Quinn goes into labor. I’ll be fine. Please, stay here.”
&nb
sp; “Dude…” Heaven punches the rail of the hospital bed. “Just…”
Is he … getting emotional?
“Don’t die,” he says, wiping his eyes.
“You’re crying.”
“Fuck you, I’m high on drugs and want my muffins. Get out.” He chuckles, then pulls me into a hug. “Be careful.”
I lean away and give a slight chin tilt, and then give the other guys one last look before turning around and walking out the door.
I have a feeling I’m going to have to fight for my life more than I have rescuing her compared to any other heist job.
I can’t look at this like any other job. Jolie is an asset who is being held hostage by another criminal. We steal from criminals.
And I’m going to steal her away from him and bring her back where she belongs.
“Are we going?” Howard asks.
“Yeah, we’re going. We aren’t taking your patrol car. It will be too obvious if he sees us. We will take my truck.”
“He will know your truck too.”
“I know, but I’m going to park the truck at home. It’s better than him getting any sight of the cop car and then we are going to retrace the steps Jolie and I took when I found her all those weeks ago. I don’t care how long it takes, Howard. We are going to find her. These woods are big, and we have a lot of ground to cover.”
“Well, wait a minute.” We run down the hospital steps instead of taking the elevator, and I burst through the door, the fresh redwood forest air invading my lungs. On any other day, I’d be standing still, letting the smell of sea and salt find their way into my lungs. “Why would we park the truck at the Cliff House? We know he doesn’t live on your property but close to it. We should park on the road closest to where your property line ends and track that way.”
I pause for a second, wondering why I didn’t think of that. Doing things his way will save us so much time, time we need. “I knew you were good for something, Howard.”
“I’m not just another pretty face,” he jokes, opening the passenger side door and sliding in.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, princess,” I say, throwing the truck in drive and skidding out of the parking lot. “I’m going to be breaking the speed limit.”
“Whatever, just don’t kill me.” He grabs the plastic handle above his head that my dad liked to call the ‘oh-shit’ bar.
“Believe me, Howard. The only man I want to kill is the one who has my Jolie.”
And when I get my hands on him, I’m going to break every bone in his pathetic, useless, body.
And I’m going to relish in it.
Twenty-Three
Jolie
“Hey.”
The voice in the distance of my dream tries to get my attention.
“Hey, please wake up. Please, don’t be dead.”
Dead? Why would I be dead?
“Please wake up! Before he comes back!”