Page 74 of Lust
He met Parker’s fierce gaze and said, “You’ll let me go because you want an end to this hiding and fighting in the shadows. You want the law on your side. The only way to get that is to let me gather evidence in an official capacity.”
“If you’re caught working with us, it will be the end of your career,” Parker warned.
“I won’t get caught. I want to come with you. You do your thing, and then I’ll call it in. I’ll say I received an anonymous tip.” He shifted his focus to Griffin who, without his spectacles, looked oddly different. “I think between Lilo and myself, we can expose the Syndicate. She can handle the press, and I’ll handle government intelligence. If we go for this double-pronged way of getting the information out, then having it discredited, or swept under the carpet will be difficult.”
“No,” Parker said. “You can stay here with Daisy.”
Daisy shifted uncomfortably.
“Screw you, Parker,” Liza snapped. “You don’t get to decide for all of us. This is a democracy, not a dictatorship. Let’s vote. Hands up for Joe’s plan.”
Everyone raised their hand, except for Parker. He fumed.
“It’s your funeral.”
24
Liza wasthe last of her family to leave. One after another, they roared out of the garage on black, unlicensed motorcycles. It was late afternoon; the sun was still up. Usually they avoided daytime missions, but they wanted to catch the Faithful in the act. Daisy had said they congregated at the hideout to socialize. If they left it too late, no one would be home.
It was one thing to raid and find a replicate tank, but another to find suspects that tied the tank to the white-robed terrorists Joe needed to build a case.
While Liza preferred to go by road, some of the Seven had jumped from the roof, preferring to use the wingsuit capacity of their uniform to weave between Cardinal City buildings. Combined with grappling guns, the wingsuits almost gave them the capacity to fly and, even though they were probably seen by a few bystanders, they were too fast to be caught.
The same went for the motorcycles. They could weave in and out of traffic, cover their heads with helmets, and abandon the bikes if need be. Being caught by the cops was a risk they had to take.
Joe stood by the open door of his car, about to get in. But the gentleman waited until she was ready to leave.
She gave a trembling exhale, stomach squirming with nerves, and climbed onto a motorcycle. But as she took hold of the throttle, she couldn’t rev. Her gloved hands froze on the handlebars.
Joe shut the door and walked over.
“You look like you’re about to be sick,” he said, eyes full of concern. “Are you okay?”
She flattened her lips. “Yep. Just give me a second.”
“Is it nerves?”
She had thought so, but the unsettled feeling in her stomach had started the moment she’d put her suit on. It should be gone by now.
“I’ll be fine,” she said. “You go. You need to be ready for when it’s safe to enter.”
A divot appeared between his brow. He went to leave, hesitated, and came back to take her jaw in his hand. His thumb grazed over her cheek. A responding ache of longing echoed in her chest. She wanted to stay with him. She wasn’t afraid to go, far from it, but some far away intuition urged her to stay. She feared after this night, everything would change, and she couldn’t quite put her finger on why.
The raid was simple enough. Daisy had given them an address. She was also left under the watchful eye of Flint and Mary. Wyatt and Misha were locked safely in their apartment. The team would be gone for only an hour or two, tops. So why weren’t the nerves quelling?
“Be careful,” he murmured.
She forced a smile on her face, for his sake. “I’ll see you there.”
A curt nod, and then Joe got in his car and drove out. She watched him leave and had the sense it could be the last time she saw him.
What a stupid thing to think. It was only because of her self-sabotaging tendencies. She’d found happiness, and a part of her didn’t believe it.
She shook out her arms to dispel the tension. Hardening herself, she covered her nose and mouth with her fuchsia mask, and then lifted her hood to hide the rest of her identity. She’d decided against the helmet. People would see her weapons, anyway. At least this way, she’d be unimpeded if she had to launch quickly into action. Two revs on the throttle, the engine roared in the hollow chamber, and then she surged out of the garage. She drove down the side alley and then stalled at the main street intersection. A look to the left showed patrons entering Heaven for their evening meal. She looked right and saw a patrol car coming down the street.
Shit.
She used her boots to back peddle and hugged the shadows next to a dumpster. If the officers looked down the alley, they’d see her. She had no helmet. Her bright face mask would be a red flag. Heart thumping in her chest, she kept her head down and waited. This was why she hated daytime missions. It was much easier to act as a cop.Goddamn suspension.
