SHE COULDN’T RESIST ME. OUR KISS WAS EPIC.
Lila bit her lip and tried not to laugh. “If you’d bother to check your messages, Tristan, you might know. I’ve been trying to call you for the last few hours.”
Dixon flashed his notepad. He did.
“So he’s been ignoring my calls?”
Dixon nodded, almost laughing.
“Go put some clothes on,” Tristan grumbled. “You’re making the chief uncomfortable.”
Dixon raised a brow and fell back into the couch. He kicked his feet on an ottoman and took another lazy bite of his sandwich.
Lila tried not to peek again. And failed. “Look, I don’t care why you ignored my calls tonight. You asked for my help, and I have new information. If you’ve changed your—”
“What new information?”
“Stuff.”
“Well, that’s really specific, Lila. Next time don’t bother explaining yourself so thoroughly.” When she didn’t answer him, he rolled his eyes. “I’ve already updated Dixon on our progress. You can speak freely. I tell him everything anyway.”
Lila pushed her shoulders back and gave a curt nod. “Fine. I need lookouts. I’m hacking Liberté tonight.”
Tristan cocked his head to the side. “Wait a minute, you want to break into the same bank that you said you’d be a fool to hack into this morning? What information could possibly have made you change your mind?”
“Does it matter?”
“I suppose not.”
Dixon whistled and held up his notebook. What’s the plan?
“I obviously can’t do it from my family’s estate. It might be traced back to me or my family. We’ll park outside the Wilson compound and use her network. Your people can serve as lookouts in case her militia patrols see us and decide to investigate. Their techs won’t even see me in the logs after I’m done. Even if they do, they’ll think it was one of their own. Let Mama Wilson sort that one out.”
“Have I told you how much I enjoy the way you think?”
“Yes, as a m
atter of fact, you told me this evening after you returned my messages,” she said. “One more thing. I’m not going to make any withdrawals. This isn’t a bank robbery.”
“I can steal my own money,” Tristan said, tugging on his coat.
Chapter 15
While Tristan and his people prepped for the op, Lila recovered her satchel and helmet from the roof of the apartment building. She limped up the stairs this time, rather than jumping across and risking further injury to her ankle. On the way back, she retrieved her Firefly and parked it in the back of the shop for safe keeping, then changed clothes and stopped by Toxic and Reaper’s storage room. She grabbed a sleek Apex for her work. The pair always kept several new, unused laptops on hand at all times, preparing for such situations.
She hopped into one of the Cruz trucks, uploading her snoop programs from her star drive while Tristan darted around the garage, giving last-minute orders. It always amazed her how quickly he could pull together such things, how easily he directed his people, how willing they were to follow his lead. She often wondered if she had no title and no birthright if her subordinates would react the same way.
Probably not.
“You ready?” he asked finally, opening the driver’s side door.
“Always,” she replied through her mesh hood, shutting Apex’s lid. “Were you able to get ahold of Reaper? It would make researching faster if we had an extra hand.”
Tristan shook his head. “He won’t be back for several days, and I can’t begrudge a man for wanting to earn an honest living. I certainly can’t afford to pay him what he’s worth, either. I called Toxic instead. She just needs the address, and she’ll meet us there.” He pulled the truck out of the shop carefully while a now-clothed Dixon signaled his way through the maze of motorcycles and parked cars.
Once Tristan had cleared the dock door, Dixon and four other figures hopped onto a few motorcycles, with two of the men doubling up. The woman in the green coat closed the door after them, and they zipped away from the shop.
“They’re going to be too loud on those things. This isn’t a parade, Tristan. We should go in fewer vehicles.”