Page 231 of Gathered Sparkle

“Sy, try to get us to the front of the Heights so we can grab those two idiots and get the fuck out of here, please,” Koen shouts to the front.

From the comms, Novalee’s voice fires back immediately. “Who are you calling idiots?”

“Oh, it’s fucking you, Little Thief.” Koen’s laugh is humorless. “And believe me, I’m going to whoop your ass for this. Hard.”

“Don’t threaten me with a good time,” Novalee quips, and despite everything, I can’t help but smirk.

Koen mutters under his breath but doesn’t push it. My gaze drifts to the windshield and toward the skyline, and I catch myself wondering how soon I can kiss those sassy, reckless lips again.

“The drive is connected to the transmitter,” Alaric informs us. “Get us fucking out of here, Sy.”

Sylus growls in frustration, halting the painstakingly slow drive. “Hold on.” He grabs his laptop from the passenger seat, his fingers flying over the keyboard, all of us watching silently until he lets out a relieved sigh. “I’m in the system. Doors are open. Elevator is called.”

“Oh my God, do you know what I just realized?” Novalee’s laughter bubbles up, louder than usual, like the adrenaline is still riding her hard. “Not only did you crash a Mustang but now a Lambo too. And you tell me I’m a bad driver.”

“Well, I don’t have a license either,” Alaric fires back, and Novalee’s answering laughter actually clips the mic, cutting off sound from the earpieces until Alaric adds, “Thanks, Sy. We’re in the elevator.”

Sylus grins as he finishes typing with one last flourish. “And I just broadcasted our little show over all of Veronica’s establishments.”

Levi whoops, throwing his hands in the air. “Hell yeah!”

Even Koen grins at that, and in the next moment, Sylus slides his laptop back into place and moves to get the van going again.

“The crowd’s thinning out,” he observes as he carefully moves toward the Heights’ entrance. “The panic seems to be over.”

Levi peers out the front with a scowl. “Still way too many people around for my taste. Fuck, they’re all shoulder to shoulder. How do we get through that?”

Koen’s gaze darkens, and I know he’s already strategizing.

“Almost out,” Alaric’s voice growls through the comms.

“Almost there,” Sylus says in response from the front, his focus locked on the road as the van inches closer to the Heights’ entry.

I glance out the back window to scan the thinning crowd and freeze when I see her.

Veronica.

She’s slipping out of a side door of the Heights, flanked by two of her security guards.

She’s getting away.

Because of me.

“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath as I reach for the sliding door of the van.

“What the fuck are you doing, Snickers?” Koen snaps.

“Fixing my fuckup,” I yell back as I yank open the door and jump out, sliding it shut before the people outside get a glimpse at the Lane twins.

“Get back here,” Ezra yells. “Let her be. The police will get her.”

“And what if they don’t?” I reply through the comms as I bolt toward where I saw her disappear, my pulse pounding as I scan my surroundings, desperate for a way through.

I turn my gaze toward the sky, begging them for an answer.

Surprisingly, it comes to me.

The balconies on the first floor of the Heights.

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