Page 13 of Rage

Savage Thieves

By: Poppy Jacobson

Chapter 1

Fucking Yorkfield.I left once, but couldn’t stay away. Frankly, nowhere else in the world beat the excitement of waking up on a random Monday, bringing in the weekend’s take from the club to deposit, and finding myself in the middle of a goddamn bank robbery.

The concrete reinforced walls of the vault muffled the sharp sound of gunfire.Dammit.I slammed the safe deposit box shut, locking Liam’s winnings inside. The cash, I’d thankfully already deposited, but jewelry, deeds, and other miscellany stayed in the vault until the owners paid their debts.

I didn’t bother returning the keys, just flew out of the vault as fast as my feet could carry me, past the terrified bank employee who’d signed me in, and looked for a back exit. To my dismay, when I peeked out into the main hallway, men in black tactical gear combed the building. This wasn’t a normal robbery — this was a gang invasion, and they couldn’t possibly be after just the cash.

The vault.

Shit, shit, shit.I ducked back behind a corner to regroup. I wouldn’t be able to sneak out the back, but maybe I could find a place to hide and wait this out. Anything to avoid becominga hostage or getting involved with the police. These days, I was more-or-less legitimate, but as soon as my record as a convicted felon showed up, my life got complicated.

Frantically, I scanned the hallway from the alcove where I crouched, not nearly well enough hidden for my comfort, looking for a stairwell, a closet, anything that might serve as a bolthole until the bank was clear.

Most of the doors had combination locks on them or required a key card to enter. Fucking banks and their fucking security. I spied one door that looked like a simple lock, to a closet, maybe. Even if it required a key, I might be able to quickly pick it.

I looked in both directions before sprinting out of my alcove and to the door. To my utter delight, it opened when I pulled on the handle. I slipped in, closing it with a quietsnick.

Close call.

I breathed deeply, taking stock of my surroundings while I caught my breath and willed my pounding heart to slow. The pitch black of the closet hid its details from me. Not even a thin line of light escaped the door. The room smelled of dust and old paper, but I couldn’t even discern its size.

The sound of fabric rustling behind me sent me right back into fight-or-flight mode. Before I could wrap my fingers around the handle of the door to escape, powerful hands wrapped around my arms and yanked them behind my back. I struggled silently, aware that noise could draw the attention of the attackers. The soft zip of a cable tie cuffing my hands together put an end to my freedom. A thick arm pulled me back against a solid torso, and the hard metal of a gun dug into my scalp.

I wiggled, only to find myself pulled tightly against a very masculine body, the hard lines pressing into my back.

“Shhhh,” a voice shushed me, breathing into my ear, barely a whisper. “Quiet,” he breathed.

I contained my shuddering breath, as the body behind me shifted, one arm settling around my pelvis, the other pushing the muzzle of the gun into my chin.

I raised my foot to slam into his instep, but the familiar scent of vanilla and sandalwood washed over me, slowing my assault.Impossible.

“Daniel?” I breathed. My captor stiffened, then ran his nose from my collarbone to the sensitive skin behind my ear, inhaling.

“Keri?” he responded, a puff of air barely present in my ear, his Irish lilt caressing the r’s in my name. Instead of releasing me, he took my earlobe between his lips and sucked. A sharp current of need shot through me.

No.There was a fucking bank robbery going on, a gang war about to start outside this closet, and the last thing I needed was to give into Daniel, who’d fucking betrayed me to the cops and left me to rot in prison years before.

I didn’t dare jerk my head away with a gun pressed to my chin.

Fabric rustled in front of me and I froze. We weren’t alone. Daniel’s lips curved up into a smile against the skin of my shoulder, and he let the gun fall away.

Perfect.I slammed my foot into his instep and jerked to the side, squatting on one leg and sweeping the other out to knock the person in front of me off his feet. The maneuver was challenging with my hands tied behind my back, but not impossible. Years of training in the octagon had prepared me well for this fight.

Callused fingers grabbed at my arms, knocking me off balance before I could do actual damage. A man with an American accent swore softly and yanked me to my feet by my bound wrists, sending sharp pain shooting through my shoulders.

I froze, panting.

“What’re you doing here, darling?” Daniel whispered into my ear, pressing to my front as my unknown assailant held me still from behind.

“Let me go,” I whispered, fury raising the volume of my voice more than it should have.

Daniel clapped his hand over my mouth. “Hush.”

The man behind me released my hands, tracing his fingers up my bound arms and to my shoulders, only to wrap one around my throat and squeeze just tightly enough to let me know he could kill me if he wanted to. “You must be Keri,” he whispered in my ear, the sensation of his hot breath against my skin sending unwanted desire skittering down my spine.

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