Page 65 of Tempted By Poison
“Yes. I'll create a diversion. I can offset the cameras. I’ll get you past the entrance.”
“Good. Once inside, the focus is getting the children out before anyone sends money. He won’t get what he wants, not by a fucking long shot,” Ronan cuts in with a damaging tone.
“Right here is another escape route.” Jax points to the other side of the storage. “This is Victor's secret exit route if something likethiswere to happen.” There's a path behind where he is that goes into trees and then an open spot with a drawn helicopter.
My head tilts, fingers skimming along the lines to connect where he pointed. The crisp wind coming in sends shivers up my stomach and back. Soon the air won’t be a problem for me. The adrenaline becomes so high, the cold won’t bother me anymore.
“We’ll make sure to destroy the helicopter,” Mal sneers.
Ronan skim his fingers to where mine are, then to the front, figuring out the plan again. I think of something. “We can safely get the kids out from where we came in. The concern is the other guys at the end. And what if Victor pulls something dramatic with his heart detonator machine?” I say matter-a-fact, then I stare at Jax. “You’ll go and distract Victor.”
“Sounds good,” Ronan agrees, closing the map.
“Distract him?”
“You heard her.” Ronan folds the map, not as neat as it was when he started, and steps around me to open his back door and toss it on the seat.
He faces Jax, giving him a brutal stare. “Is that a problem?”
We all look at Jax quietly, waiting for his answer or hesitation. He flicks his concerned eyes back at us, then he shakes his head. “Not one.”
Ronan nods with a tick of his jaw, then turns to address his team. “Red, I need you and your team to go around the other side and get the guards that are posted out back. No noise. We need to be as stealthy as possible.”
“Keep shit to a minimum. Code for ‘fuck it up.’ Got it,” Red says with a toothy grin.
Maybe this is why he’s called Red.
Ronan actually smirks, but it's not a friendly one, it’s malice, the one that has a death ending twist behind it. The one that lifts the hairs in the back of your neck up. “You already know that.”
Red nods with understanding. Ronan shifts to Boone. “You'll deactivate the bombs. Hopefully, in enough time.”
“No worries,” Boone replies, twisting his head and cracking his neck.
Ronan nods. “Alright,” he says, then clears his throat, gesturing his body to face the crew so we can have his full attention. I stand beside Wicked Mal who's holding her AK-47 to her chest, she leans over to my ear. “You’re a bitch.”
Her anger toward me doesn't affect me...to some capacity. I like fighting alongside Wicked; she’s a great comrade, but the image of her bleeding behind that bar changed something in me. And I feel this pressure in my chest to protect her like a little sister.
“Hate me all you want,” I respond dryly.
She knocks her hip against. “Oh, I will always hate you. But you're right. You look out for me even when I’m being stubborn.”
I chew on my lip, pretending her words didn't just twist a knot in my throat. I straighten my back, hiding my smile. “Shut up and look at your boss.”
She chuckles under breath, looking forward. I gaze at him too, his face changing into that hard, stony demeanor as he clutches the gun in his holster. The dark sky spilling over him like he’s a part of the moon's shadow.
“Tonight is an unfortunate night for those kids, and I know we didn’t plan this mission out, but it only shows how capable we are in a severe circumstance.” His eerier honey eyes landed on each of us as he speaks. “We can do this and get those kids to safety. This is no different from our usual.” There are no hesitant murmurs, no questioning, or side eyes. We nod in unison; then they all raise their arms with fists clenched. Ronan’s fist is in the center, and they all tap their arms together like they're having a toast. I do the same.
“It is mercy that we leave,”they chant in unison, then lower their fists. We’re all focused, checking our bullets, grabbing extra, gathering gear, and picking a gun of our choosing.
We break apart, gathering the gear, getting a gun of our choosing, extra bullets. I’m ready to do it no matter how much my heart amps up like someone’s pumped me with adrenaline. I need to get those kids. Victor was my main objective, the man of the hour, the fucker I had to see stomped into the ground. But everything changed, and I can't live with myself doing something as selfish as going after Victor on my own just to carry out my vengeance. I can’t.
Once we are all ready, I close the trunk and stroll to the front of the truck. As I do, Ronan walks toward me with five other men at his flank. My breath catches, and I know it isn’t the moment to appreciate his aura, but fuck he’s sexy. He’s a sight for solemn moments like this. All black gear, his bulletproof vest fitted perfectly on him, and night vision googles resting in his wavy hair. My heart hammers into my throat, and my stomachs galloping with baby butterflies.
Stop it.
It's difficult to ignore his confidence as it radiates from his bones; it's nearly blinding. As is his swagger as he walks with that cruel glare, like he’s ready to grab the world by the core and tear it in half.
Shit.
