Page 94 of Brazen Deceits

Jansen’s hands are cut free as Gramps goes back to the front of the house with his briefcase. My fake-high boyfriend drops more of his weight into my embrace than I expect. I use the momentum to stumble toward the front gate, as every foot closer to freedom matters.

The head guard shakes his head at the two of us. “Mikey will escort you out. And, just saying, if your boyfriend’s not better in the next hour, I think you’re going to need to bring him to the hospital,” he says.

I force an appropriately serious look onto my face. “Thank you. You’re probably right.”

We start our zigzag to the front. Jansen’s weight causes me to weave closer to the gorilla than I’d planned.

Gorilla guy lunges, breaking free of his guard, ramming me with his shoulder, taking both Jansen and me down.

He whispers in my ear, his rank breath overpowering. “Pretty lies, little rabbit. I look forward to catching you and having a nibble of rabbit stew.”

I slip away as fast as I can, Jansen helping, his obviously sober action covered by the guards hauling the creepy asshole off me.

The gorilla chuckles, his eyes bright, before shaking them off again. He dashes around back, fast even with his wrists zip-tied, as all three guards race after him.

Even unescorted, Jansen and I keep up our farce as I brace his wobbly steps, stopping him from chasing invisible angels while we weave through the hole in the gate, down the street, and into the back of the van.

The door slams behind us, the van immediately rolling forward, and I slide down to the floor, not sure if the next thing out of my mouth is going to be laughter or tears.

My God. We did it.

It was scary as all fucking hell.

And I abso-fucking-lutely loved it.

Chapter 41

Trips

Walker gets us moving, but I’m not worried about the route we take to get out of here. No, I’m fucking locked on Clara, slumped on the floor in the back of the van, shaking, her eyes wide, a grin stretched across her face.

“Holy fucking shit,” she says, and I totally agree.

Jansen scoops her up, spinning her, totally forgetting we’re in a small as shit van, RJ diving to keep anything from being broken. “You were amazing, beautiful! That was so incredible! You’re absolutely perfect, Clara, perfect!” He kisses her, and my stomach rolls.

Clara’s feet back on the ground, RJ pulls her to his chest, pressing his lips to hers, a sweet thing, not a mouth-fuck like Jansen, and I’m floored. “You were magic, sugar,” he whispers.

RJ too? When? How?

What is it with this girl and my whole damn team?

I’m all ready to yell, the fear that drenched me when she dashed toward men with guns overwhelming, needing a target, but then she sways on her feet. She giggles, her hands shaking, tears glistening, and I rush forward, crushing her to my chest. “You fucking crazy-ass chick,” I grumble into her hair, the scent of flowers intoxicating.

Her hands reach around my back, pulling me closer, and something settles inside me, the anger I felt watching her with the other guys dissipating. Her knees give out, and I catch her, scooping her into my lap as I sit on the built-in bench.

“What the fuck were you thinking?” I ask, keeping her as close as I can.

A few tears trickle down her cheeks, giggles shaking her in my lap. “I think you’re supposed to say thank you, Trips.”

Jansen drops to his knees next to her, plucking up one of her hands and kissing the back of it. “I can say thank you easily. Thank you, Clara. I don’t know how I would have gotten out of that without you.”

“Jansen gets a cookie!” she giggles, more tears streaming down her cheeks. “No cookies for you, Trips.”

“You’re fucking ridiculous,” I say, wishing I could stop her trembling.

RJ’s focused on his computer, the tension in his shoulders letting me know that it’s not done. Not yet. Clara’s running her hands through Jansen’s hair, and part of me wants to snatch her fingers away, but with each stroke, she’s shaking less, so I guess I’m just going to have to live with this weird setup for now.

“Turkey Mask got away,” RJ announces.

---