Page 27 of The Twilight Theft

“Wait.” Somehow, despite all the things Drew was carrying, he pulled his sunglasses down to glower at me over the rims. “What are you planning?”

“Planning?” I winked at him. “You obviously have me confused with someone else.”

“Jayce, I—”

Showtime.

I darted off, gaining enough momentum to launch myself at the planter. My right foot landed firmly on the edge, and I pushed off. My left hit the pillar, bent, extended, and I flew up to the awning.

“Jayce Monroe!” Drew sounded so pissed.

Good.

The gasps and hollers from the crowd barely registered.

Swing legs up, shift balance, pull up, bring my hips to the front bar of the awning. It had more give than I was expecting, but it held.Right foot up, push, leap, and grab the railing of the second-floor patio.

This was going to be child’s play.

Chapter 11

Drew

Shewasclimbingthebuilding.

Jayce was literally scaling the outside of a five-story building in the middle of Washington, DC, in broad daylight. Mosaic—the high-end, ultra-posh restaurant where the charity event would be held—was nothing more than her afternoon entertainment.

And what was I doing? Holding her fucking shoes?

She hadn’t said a word. Not a goddamn word to me about what she was doing.

No plan?

More like no fucking brain cells.

“If you fall, I’m not calling 9-1-1!” I yelled.

She was halfway to the third floor, giving no reaction to my words.

“What’s she doing?” A frantic woman grabbed my arm, almost sending Jayce’s water bottle careening to the ground. “Is this a movie set?”

“No, it’s…”A woman with a death wish.

The one next to me held up her phone and began recording. Not so frantic, after all. At least, not frantic enough to be worried. And she wasn’t the only one. Several people spoke quietly at their phones, likely all live-streaming Jayce’s antics.

Rather than become part of the spectacle, I walked casually to the restaurant’s front door, ensuring nobody thought to filmme. I dropped my coffee and her water into a garbage bin by the entrance, so my arms weren’t embarrassingly laden.

Should drop her shoes in there.

That would make a wonderful impression on Gideon and Liana. Maybe she should have left me her purse, too.

Jayce was on her way up to the fourth floor, moving slower than when she’d started.

I couldn’t watch. I wanted to watch, wanted to be sure she was all right, but I tucked that inside my mental locker and moved on. The fifth floor protruded from the side of the building. She’d get that far and realize this was a stupid idea without any safety gear or prep work—let alone actual climbing shoes—and she’d make her way back down.

Jayce was competitive to her core. There was no way she’d admit that defeat. Instead, she’d sneak in through the patio doors on the second floor and skirt around the walls. Maybe she’d confess. Maybe she’d lie about it.

No, she wouldn’t try that. She’d evade rather than admit the truth. Jayce Monroe couldn’t keep her mouth shut long enough to be a convincing liar.

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