Page 62 of Captive of Outlaws

I set down my coffee mug and put my hands in the air. “I don’t want any trouble,” I say. “No complications, no nothing. Yesterday was plenty.”

“No one’s asking you to get in trouble, Maren,” Rob says. He sighs, runs his hands through his hair. “You’re right, though, Scarlet. She can’t just stay here alone, unguarded. Your security setup’s good, but it’s not magic.”

Tuck laughs. Will doesn’t.

“You see the problem, then,” Will says. “This can’t work.”

“Yes, it can.”

The voice comes from the hallway, where a broad shape darkens the door.

It’s LJ.

“We take her with us.” He strides into the room, serious as anything, but relaxed, and settles at the table, folding his hands. “She wears a masquerade mask just like everyone else. We don’t let her out of our sight. Between the four of us, she’ll be safe.”

I swallow hard. I want to speak up, to protest or agree on my own behalf, but I don’t even know what I think. I want to wait and see what happens.

“Scarlet,” LJ growls. “You’re right to be apprehensive, but quit biting your nails over this shit. We know what we’re doing, and we’re not going to get another opportunity like this. Everyone’s like sitting ducks. You can’t just pass it up.”

He turns his stare to Rob. “And Rob, you’re an idiot if you think you could do this safely by yourself. You need all of us, and you know it.”

Rob and Will look at each other, look at Tuck, look at me.

“I’ll do it if Maren says okay,” Will says at last. “But only if she agrees.”

Rob nods. “Same here.”

Four pairs of eyes settle expectantly on me. I pick up my mug again and clutch it like a shield. The thought of setting foot in the Fox Hunt Club, with its smoke-scented drapery and stuffy ballrooms, makes my chest constrict.

Especially knowing that Uncle John will undoubtedly be there. And the sheriff, too.

But I don’t want to stand in their way. Not if they’re going to do what they say they’re going to. Not if they’re going to help people.

And...I can’t help it. I’m not timid little Maren anymore. I’m a girl who’s run from the cops, who’s fired a crossbow.

I want the adventure.

“I guess I’ll go with it,” I say. I glance down at my outfit. “But I don’t have anything to wear.”

Rob laughs. “Don’t worry. We’ll take care of that.”

Chapter Sixteen

“I CAN’T BELIEVE I’Mwearing this.”

LJ grouses and tugs at the collar of his tuxedo. It’s midnight blue, with dark lapels, and he fills it out pretty damn nicely, if I do say so myself. But I’d have to agree that it’s...a bit incongruous on him.

“C’mon, LJ, can’t you tap into your inner James Bond?” Will says, clapping him on the shoulder. Will, for his part, looks entirely at ease in a tuxedo, right down to the deep red cummerbund and matching cufflinks. LJ grunts.

“Not my style. Literally.”

“Let me guess,” Rob says, striding in from the front hallway. “You’d prefer stirred, not shaken?” We’re sitting around in the sitting room—or is it the drawing room? The one with the sleek leather furniture right by the front door—as dusk gathers outside. Will checks his hair in the mirror—not a single silver strand out of place—and Rob straightens his cuffs in his sleeves. His tux is a deep, darkforest green, so dark italmostlooks black, but not quite.

“Or just straight up,” LJ says. He smooths his own hair with his massive palms. Surprisingly, he’s cleaned up well, too, with his usual untamed mane freshly buzzed on the sides and styled sleekly on top, his beard thick as ever, but tidy. With the tattoos covered, he almost looks like someone who’d blend in at the Fox Hunt Club.

Almost. “Can you make that a round there, Scarlet?” he adds to Will, who’s now pouring two fingers of whiskey from the polished wood bar cart by the picture window.

“Say pretty please,” Will says, but obliges, handing LJ a glass. “Prost.”

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