Code Name Heist (Jameson Force Security 3)

“I’m not moping,” I growl.

“—I know there’s a good story behind all of this.” She finishes by taking a deep breath, letting it out, then watching me expectantly for answers.

I’ve never had close friendships before, and there’s a part of me that wants me to tell her to mind her own business.

But being here at Jameson over the last several months has taught me that these people are more than coworkers. They’re my new family, and Bebe’s like the nosy sister who needs to know about my dating life.

So I give it to her.

I start with how I first met Sin—to which Bebe sighed with a romantic look in her eyes—to how we fell in love to how she betrayed me. Bebe gasped and got outraged over that, then I told her how I saw Sin in Paris, shocked as hell she was involved in this, and, ultimately, her real story behind sending me to jail.

“And so you forgave her?” Bebe asks a hushed whisper, her hand covering her heart as if it hurts.

“Forgave her and fell in love with her again,” I admit softly.

“You fucked up,” she drawls, her eyes widening as she now reconsiders what she knows about me taking Sin out of the equation by force. “Oh, you fucked up so bad.”

“She did the same thing to me,” I snap. “And I forgave her, so I expect her to do the same for me.”

Bebe shakes her head. “You should have talked to her, Saint. You should have told her your worries. Convinced her to back away.”

“I did try that.”

She cocks her head, her tone admonishing. “But did you really?”

“I tried to get her to leave,” I say sullenly. “Offered to help her and her dad disappear until I could finish out the plan, but she wouldn’t.”

“Oh, I see.” Bebe rolls her eyes, sitting up and planting her feet on the ground. “She wouldn’t do as you asked, so you took it upon yourself to make her do it. Except, the way I see it, you kept her around for the actual heist, but not the delivery to Mercier. You used her to steal the diamonds, but then took away her satisfaction in completing the full job. You used her, Saint. If you were worried about her safety, you would have had Cruce kidnap her before the heist.”

My jaw drops as Bebe’s words slam into me. I had not considered those ramifications when I was figuring out how to protect Sin, but now that Bebe has uttered them out loud, I realize what a supreme asshole I’d been.

I had used her.

I’d let her take the risk for the heist, knowing she could be caught, arrested, and sent to prison for years.

“At least she would have stayed alive, even if caught,” I feel the need to defend myself, but even I know how weak that sounds.

“Really? You think that’s a way to live? In prison?”

“Christ,” I mutter, knowing Bebe is right because she was in prison for years, too, just as I had been. And I’m in the wrong here. Still, I hold out hope. “She’ll forgive me. Eventually.”

“Like you forgave her.” It’s not a question, but a statement… like Bebe believes it.

This gives me hope.

“Exactly,” I say with a firm nod. “If she’d just show up like I’ve invited her to…”

Bebe huffs. “Seriously? You can’t be that dumb. You have to grovel, which means you have to go after her.”

“I do?” I ask, not sure about anything anymore, including if Bebe’s advice is any good.

“Don’t you want her?” she counters.

“More than anything,” I affirm.

“Then why the hell are you even still here?” she asks, a slight tinge of disgust in her voice over having to woman-splain that to me. She picks up her laptop and starts working on it again, effectively ignoring me.

I don’t wait around. I have a little bit of time before my meeting with the insurance consortium to book a flight to London. No clue if Sin is there as George won’t tell me shit, but it’s a good place to start the search.CHAPTER 29Sin“… so, then me mate says to me, ‘Robbie… you got to put yourself out there,’ and so I decided… he’s right. I have to take a risk.”

I smile at Robbie across the metal table, my hand curled around a pint glass, and nod with a forced interest. “Mmhmm.”

“It’s all about risk,” Robbie continues. “No risk, no reward. Right?”

“Truer words were never spoken,” I agree, again with another smile I hope comes off as being genuinely interested in what he’s saying.

But I’m not.

It was stupid to accept a date with this guy I’d met at a supermarket in London yesterday.

Sure… he’s gorgeous. Has that Daniel Craig vibe going on with a wounded look in his eyes. It was appealing to have someone to talk to who might be as lonely as I am without Saint.