The goon and two of his buddies roll out a fucking rug, the fourth out front with their motorcycles, and the three dive through as RJ sends Jansen back to the employee section of the floor.
God-fucking-damn it. Months of work. Months.
All for fucking nothing.
The alarm screeches, and I need to throw a punch. I need to maim. I need to do something before I explode and hurt the people I care about most.
A small hand grasps my arm, and it’s all I can do to keep myself still, the fear of hurting Clara so monumental it feels like there’s no air left in the van.
“Trips. I have a plan. Will you run with me?”
I look at Jansen, once again locked inside a secure building. And of course, once the alarm is triggered, all the doors lock down. Security calls 911, then clears the building floor by floor.
We’re fucked.
“It’s too late,” I say.
Walker steps up behind her. “Trips. Jansen’s going to jail if we leave him in there.”
“And if this half-assed idea of Clara’s goes sideways, some of us could end up dead. Better in jail than a coffin.”
“Please, Trips. We’re out of time.”
I look down at Clara, those dark eyes determined. She’s so fucking smart. Maybe smarter than me. Could she see something I don’t? Is there a way out of this mess?
I swallow my whole fucking heart into my stomach. “Okay.”
She grabs two of RJ’s bottles of Mountain Dew off his desk and we both leap out the back of the van, her new snow boots keeping her from slipping as she dashes toward the museum. “Jansen, get safe, but stay in the building,” she says, not even winded as we sprint down the sidewalk.
“Got it, beautiful.”
“Walker, I need you to make a Gem Black reproduction. RJ, get him some spare blue cord from under the bench.”
“Seriously, princess? You expect me to forge artwork on the fly in the back of a van using, what exactly?” Walker sounds incredulous, and I’m right there with him. We stillhave time to pull back. And who the fuck is Gem Black? Goddamn. Maybe Jansen can sneak out while the guards are clearing the building or something?
Clara’s still pushing forward, the museum growing larger in front of us. “There’s a twenty-four-hour Walgreens on the corner. There’s usually some kind of paint there across from the greeting cards. It doesn’t have to be perfect. In fact, it’s better if it isn’t. I need a shitty forgery, Walker.”
His sigh is already exhausted. “I can get you shitty. Can I send RJ shopping?”
“Yup. I’ll need him in about five minutes, though.”
“I’ll be here, sugar,” RJ answers.
The sound of the two of them making a fucking shopping list fills the earbuds. I’m keeping stride with her, but I’m panting. Boxing is a good workout, but I’ve let my cardio slip with all the stress this semester. And now that shitty choice is leaving me half a step behind Clara’s perfect ass and crazy brain.
“What about us?” I ask.
“Want to beat somebody up?” she asks.
I stutter my step. I have no idea how this is going to get Jansen out of that museum, but shit. “Goddamn, that sounds gorgeous, Crash.”
She tosses me a grin over her shoulder, the sound of idling motorcycles loud as we race toward the other team.
She’s crazy. Fucking crazy.
But right now, crazy is the only choice we have left.
Chapter 53