Page 3 of The Company We Keep

“Herron, how are you and Leta holding up?”

Herron let loose a wicked laugh into the comms unit, gunfire crackling in the background.

So. LAPDhaddecided to show up.

“Tell that maniac to stop taking pot shots at police and get ready to go,” Carrow said over his shoulder.

“Boss says you two should prepare to pull out,” Dust said, not expecting an answer from Herron anymore, knowing their friend would be too swept up in the fun of the moment. “You with me Leta?”

“Yeah, we’ll hit the road on your signal,” Leta responded.

When he turned back to the van, Carrow was examiningthe wheels. The body of the vehicle looked like it was about to scrape the tops of the rubber.

“What’s this thing even rated for?” Dust asked. Carrow and Wayles gave him a dumb look.

“It’s not rated for several tons of bullion,” Wayles said. “I know that much at least.”

They’d only managed to grab, wheel out, and load about half of the bouillon. Still, it was clear they were testing the limits of what the van could safely carry.

“It won’t take any more if we’re meant to go up the coast,” Wayles pointed out.

“Screw the safehouse,” Carrow said. “Just get it to the penthouse.”

“Seriously boss?” Dust asked, raising an eyebrow. Taking a score straight home was reckless — asking for trouble right where they all slept.

“You think LAPD knows Lefebvre is sitting on more money than the State of California ingold bars?This cash is off the goddamn radar. Nobody is going to come looking for it but the elder Lefebvre, and there aren’t any hired goons on the coast better than the goons Antoine Lefebvre hired in the first place.”

He was right. The jewelers couldn’t go to the cops about money they weren’t supposed to have in the first place — and when it came to street justice, people went to The Company or they didn’t go anywhere at all. It was the perfect score.

Once they loaded the gold into the cargo elevator and got it into Carrow’s penthouse, there would be no safer place for it. It made more sense to take it straight home.

They were all about to besignificantlyricher.

“We’ve left plenty behind, don’t worry, Dust,” Carrow said, smiling and slapping him on the back. “Enough to leave LAPD asking Lefebvre where all the goddamn gold came from.”

Wayles hopped out of the van and shut the doors behind himself.

“Well lads, we’re off, then?”

“We’re off,” Carrow said. “I think we’re going to take a detour on the way back. Go ahead and get the team unloading, will you?”

Wayles nodded, tossed the keys up, caught them, and spun on his heel.

“Where arewegoing?” Dust asked.

Carrow fixed him with a perfect mugshot grin.

“For a ride.”

Dust heldCarrow tight around the waist as they leaned into the turn. He whipped them around corners in the dark like the two of them were invincible —and maybe we are, Dust thought.

Carrow sped them faster than Dust thought the bike was capable of, but he never felt anything other than thrilled. It didn’t occur to him to be scared or to fear an accident. They were riding twin highs and it seemed that nothing could bring them down from it — not yet.

He buried his face in the other man’s neck, appreciating the proximity, not bothering to hide his hardness pressing into Carrow’s back. Dust was helpless against it. Not every heist was a turn-on, of course. Sometimes things went wrong, innocent people got hurt, or the job got far more complicated than any of them had planned.

But every piece of the diamond-turned-gold job had been a pure aphrodisiac, and Dust seemed to be caught in a feedback loop of sensations: adrenaline coursing through him, the smell of Carrow’s skin, the air roaring past them on the highway, the knowledge that they’d gotten away with somethingeven better than what they’d had their sights set on. He was mentally thrilled and physically throbbing.

He kissed the back of Carrow’s neck and felt a pleasant shiver roll through the other man in response.

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