Page 73 of The Hate We Breathe
“Who else would it be?” Viks asks.
“You!” she says. “No one knows who you are or why you’d be involved. He has cameras and?—”
Viks is already shaking his head before she can finish her reasoning and I wince as her ass moves against my dick, rubbing back and forth as she crosses her arms over her chest and glares at the other man.
“You know the inside of his house better than anyone else here would,” Viks states. “And if you do get caught—which we’re hoping to ensure you don’t—but just in case, you might have more of a reason to be there. Regardless, we aren’t sending you alone.” His gaze moves from her to me.
I nod. “Which is why I’ll go with you.”
Juliet’s muscles tense under my hold. She’s quiet for a long moment and then, in a low voice, she asks, “What about his staff?”
“Most of the staff is no longer a concern,” Abel pipes up. “There’s no point in having so many people working for a dead man.”
Back straight, chin tilted down, Juliet remains quiet for a long, tense moment. “When are we doing this?” she finally asks.
I exchange a look with Viks and Abel, but it’s Rylie that gives her the answer. “Today, Juliet.”
“Right.” Jules bobs her head. “I guess that explains why Lex and Gio are covering for us now.”
“The only one left working at the house is Calloway’s previous executive secretary,” Abel says.
Juliet lifts up, straightening before she grips both of the chair’s arms. “Stuart?”
Rylie clicks something on her computer, scanning the screen. “Yes, that’s his name. Stuart Rodgers.”
“Ugh.” Juliet sinks back into me. “I don’t know if this is going to work—he hates my guts. I’m pretty sure he was in love with Morpheus or something.”
My hands move down, smoothing over her thighs and adjusting her more comfortably against me. “It doesn’t matter now,” I state. “You have every right to go in and get your things.” At least, that’s the story we’re going with.
Juliet hums but doesn’t respond. I graze my lips along the back of her neck. Though she shivers and gooseflesh rises along her skin, her lips remain pinched shut without any resistance. I haven’t said as much, but another reason why I wanted it to be me going in with her is because I want to see exactly where she was when she left us. I want to know just what she had to put up with, what she had to face, when she thought she was protecting us.
“It’ll be a simple in-and-out mission,” Viks says. “Rylie will provide you with a small flash drive. All you need to do is get into his home office, find his computer, and plug it in.”
Rylie nods at his words, though her eyes remain glued to the screen as she types out something. “The flash drive is loaded with a virus that’ll infiltrate his system and open up a back window in the locked files I haven’t been able to get ahold of. Anything not uploaded to a cloud or used offline will be accessible to me and we might finally get the information we need that’ll incriminate Darrio.”
“What do we do when we have that information?” I ask.
Abel leans forward around his wife. “We send it to the SPD anonymously,” he says.
Juliet snorts derisively. “Do you really think they’re just going to accept some anonymous information like that?” She shakes her head. “They’ll still blame me.” Her shoulders slump and she rubs a hand over her face. “Fuck, I’m so damn tired of this fucking town.”
“They won’t be able to deny the information,” Abel assures her. “I have a meeting with Detective Lann next week in person and Rylie is here to make sure it’s sent at the right time where I’ll be able to conveniently see it and ensure that neither he nor anyone else in the department can bury the information. They’ll be required to bring it to light and it’ll clear you of being the only suspect.”
Juliet’s expression is still tense and doubtful, but she doesn’t argue anymore. I cup her thigh, squeezing lightly as I direct my attention to Viks.
“All right,” I say. “Get us set up and let’s do this.”
Hours later,as twilight bleeds into night outside the SUV’s windows, Juliet and I roll up the long drive toward Morpheus Calloway’s estate. The three-story mansion cuts into the skyline like a monstrous beacon. I glance her way, noting that her eyes are locked on the building, her expression haunted.
She hasn’t said a word in miles, not since Viks, Abel, and Rylie explained the plan. In lieu of actually breaking in like thieves, we’re going to walk right up to the front door. What better way to hide what we’re doing than to act as if we have every right to do it. Like disguising ourselves in plain sight.
Juliet’s profile is rigid, jaw tight, hands clenched in her lap. The flash drive in my pocket feels like it’s burning through the fabric of my jeans, a mission-shaped brand that only matters if we accomplish what we came here for—and we will. I will accept no other outcome.
I keep glancing at her. My girl. My ruin. My salvation. She’s steel now, but I know the cracks that run beneath her surface. Finally, the silence claws too loud at my ears and I can’t fucking take it anymore.
My hand drifts over, cupping her thigh, squeezing hard enough to anchor her. “It’s okay,” I tell her. “I’m here.”
Her eyes close for a breath, her chest rising. “I know,” she whispers. “I just…”
