Page 39 of Fired at the Heart

“We’ve hit places with better security.” He leans in closer, his fingers skimming the back of my neck. “Remember the job in Singapore?”

It’s a deliberate reference to history we’ve shared, a reminder of what Raphael missed by walking away. It’s petty and frustrating, as is him using the Rockfords to push all these extra touches on me, but I refuse to appear divided in front of outsiders.

“Vince said this is where they keep the Omegas who fight, so there’s a high chance Jade will be inside,” Raphael directs the words to me as if Cassian hadn’t spoken. “Our primary objective is to ensure the Omegas’ survival. Taking the guards and staff alive is secondary to our objective.”

Lena strokes the stock of her rifle. “Always easier when we can just kill them.”

The planning continues, with times and positions being finalized. Throughout, the tension between Cassian and Raphael runs beneath the surface of professional discussion. When Cassian leans across me to point at something on the screen, his chest presses against my shoulder, his pheromones enveloping me in a familiar cloud. Raphael watches this with thinly veiled irritation, his posture rigid.

As we finalize the details, Cassian’s hand comes to rest on my thigh, a gesture hidden from most of the group by the tablet on my lap. The touch is warm through my tactical pants, fingers splayed in a way that speaks of intimacy and claim, and it takes everything in me to not break his fingers. He’s pushing it too far, knowing I won’t reject him in front of the outsiders.

Raphael looks at where Cassian’s hand rests, and rage flashes across his face. For a moment, I’m caught between them, the air thickening with Alpha pheromones.

“We move in thirty,” I announce, breaking the moment. “Check your gear and comms.”

I grab a weapons case from under the bench and slide away from both men, moving toward the rear door to give myself some room to breathe.

Before I hop out, I turn back to Cassian and Raphael, who are glaring at each other. “And leave your personal shit at the door. Once we’re in there, I need everyone’s head in the game.”

The rest of the group pretends they don’t see anything as they turn to open the lockers, dispersing equipment.

Cassian moves to join me at the tailgate. “I don’t trust him.”

“You don’t have to.” I double-check the magazines before slipping them into my pockets. “This isn’t about trust. It’s about doing what we’re being paid to do.”

Cassian’s fingers brush my wrist, a touch so light it could be accidental. “Is that what happened back in the SUV?”

I pull my hand away. “What does that mean?”

He leans in closer to inhale over my pulse point. “I just want to know if you’re reconsidering the plan.”

“Nothing’s changed.” I turn my head just far enough to catch his eye. “Now, move away before I remind you why I’m still the boss.”

He sucks on his bottom lip for a moment before he turns to gather his equipment. Across the van, I catch Raphael watching us, his expression unreadable.

I arch a brow at him, and his expression shutters, locking his emotions down tight.

I check my weapon, the familiar weight of it grounding me. Tonight isn’t about Alpha bullshit.

It’s about getting to kill some monsters while getting paid for the fun.

13

The mood in our vehicles is electric as we approach the target – that particular tension that always precedes violence.

I ride with Cassian, Jace, and Lena, while the Rockfords follow in the second SUV. Cassian drives, his profile sharp in the dim light, hands steady on the wheel. The weight of my weapons is reassuring, familiar territory on a night that has been anything but.

We park three blocks from the warehouse, killing the lights before we roll to a stop. The night wraps around us, the distant industrial area quiet except for the occasional rumble of trains. Lena slips out first, rifle case in hand, moving like a shadow toward her vantage point. The rest of us gather behind the vehicles, a final check of equipment and comms.

“Channel secure,” Ezra’s hushed confirmation sounds in our earpieces. “Jamming signal ready on my mark.”

“Lena, status?” I ask into my comm.

“Moving into position. Two guards at the east entrance, one patrolling the fence line. Standard patrol pattern, just like intelligence suggested.”

Jace and Rico exchange a look, in sync with each other after so many years of working side-by-side. Caleb checks his weapon with practiced efficiency, while Raphael scans the darkness, alert for any movement. Cassian stays close to my side, his presence a constant reminder of where his priorities lie.

“In and out in twenty minutes,” I remind everyone, checking the clock on my phone. “Any longer, and their off-site security will respond.”

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