Hardcore: Volume 2 (10 page)

I scanned the room with a new perspective now that I was level with the sprinklers to really see them. They were far enough away from the catwalk that I’d have to climb, though I found one close enough to the metal walkway to reach and routed myself as I ran. There was no way they could see me well enough from below to get a clean shot, but that didn’t stop them from trying. I ducked wild bullets, pushing harder, feet clanging against the metal under my feet.
 

I neared the point where I would jump and held my breath when I leaped for the rail. My boot landed squarely on the metal, and I pushed with all my weight, launching my body into the air with my eyes on the metal rafters a few feet away. My hands hit the beam, and the force of my body weight shot up my arms as I swung, hanging on with all my strength. I hauled myself up, panting to the pings and pops of gunfire.

The girder was about the width of my body, and I took the half-dozen steps to the nearest sprinkler, hanging between the beam I was on and the next one over.
Close enough.
I crouched down and hung on tight, balancing on one foot, taking a deep breath. I kicked my leg out, straight and hard. My boot connected with the sprinkler, and the glass in the tube broke with a crunch. The alarm was loud enough to rock me, even though I’d been expecting it, and water shot out of the device, raining down on everything below.

The bells clanged as I stood and ran down the narrow girder with my eyes on the windows that would get me out. I glanced back to see two guys finally climbing the catwalk, the other three down below, standing still in the middle of the warehouse. I couldn’t hear anything over the alarms, and thought it was strange that they were just standing there until I realized they were firing at me.

I climbed down the wall, pushed the window open, and slipped out, navigating my way up to the roof. Relief washed over me when I found it empty, and I hauled ass toward The Kyle Building, looking back once I hit the next building to admire Morgan’s handiwork.

Hot pink words stretched up as tall as she was, which was tall enough, lit up by the spotlights of the perimeter lamps.

Stolen art inside.

I smiled as I took off, hoping it would work. But there was one final task. Only one more thing that was in my control.

It was time to come clean.

I found the girls on the roof of The Kyle Building, waiting for me. They rushed me.
 

“You guys okay?” I huffed with my hands hanging on my hips, trying to catch my breath.

“We’re fine,” Erin answered. “But are you okay? We heard the gunshots as we were leaving. What the hell happened?”

“I outran them.” I said with a smile.

They smiled back, and relief slipped over us.
 

“Of course you did.” Cher laughed and hugged me.
 

“I’m glad you’re okay. Are you ready for this?” Erin asked, reaching for my hand.

“I have to be.” I squeezed her fingers and turned to the group. “I don’t know if anyone answered the alarm. If they didn’t—”

“I’m sure they did,” Erin interrupted. “We’re going to run by there and make sure.”

I nodded. “Don’t get caught.”

“Don’t worry about us. We won’t get caught.” Erin handed the painting to me.
 

I took it with shaking hands, and each of my friends passed by, giving me their silent blessings before they ran off into the night, Erin last of all.

“You can do this.”

“I’m going to do this.”

She smiled once more and pulled me into a hug, wrapping her arms around my neck as mine wound around her waist. She squeezed tight before letting me go and taking off after everyone.

I took a breath as sat on a vent and pulled out my laptop, searching the IP for the cameras again. The insurance company and cops would investigate once the painting showed back up, which meant the security footage would be checked for sure. I couldn’t afford to make any more stupid decisions.

Goosebumps trailed up my arms and neck, even though I was so hot I could barely breathe. I put my gear away, slung on the painting and punched in the code. Walked down the stairs. Down his hall. Knelt in front of his door, a sinner in confession, picking his lock with my heart full of fear and hope, humbled and repentant.
 

His apartment was dark and quiet, and I wondered where he was. Maybe he was out with someone. Maybe he’d written me off for good. Part of me hoped he had. The rest of me couldn’t stomach the thought.

I walked over to the space where the painting was meant to be and took off the case, setting it down in front of me. I unzipped it carefully and lifted the painting out, held it at arm’s length for a moment, just looking it over. And then I stepped to the wall, lifted it up, and hung it where it belonged.

It was just like Van said. As I stood in the stillness, I could feel what Rothko felt when he’d painted it, but it was more than that. It was a reflection of myself. The cold blues. The heavy red, pooled like blood at the bottom. Hot and cold. Good and bad. Love and pain. And when I couldn’t see it anymore for my tears, I turned my back to the painting and sank into his armchair to wait for my fate.

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

AS ALWAYS, THE FIRST person to thank is Jeff Brillhart, husband extraordinaire. Thanks for putting up with my inconvenient need to keep myself (and in effect, you) constantly busy. Thank you for being so incredibly supportive, as well as being an incredible badass.

Brooke Cumberland - Thank you, thank you, thank you. You are an amazing, shiny, absolutely lovely woman, and I love you times one million. Your support through my journey into a new genre has meant more to me than I could ever really put into words. I’m grateful for you every day, pookie.

Becca Mysoor - HTF did I ever live without you before?

Lori Riggs #lifetwin - You’ve now had my back through the completion of a(nother) book. Don’t ever leave me. Evarrrrrr.

Jen Miller - Thank you for being there for all the crazy, armed with memes. #iunderstandyourfrustration

Rachel Grey - You are a glorious, spectacular ladybeast and a wonder to behold. Thanks for always giving it to me straight, and for taking time (of which you have very little) to read my scribbles.

Zoe - #paybacks

Tanya - #feelings

Melissa - #crybaby

Terry Maggert - Many thanks for your Guy-eyeballs (guy-balls: sounds right, looks wrong).

To my amazing betas - Your feedback helped shaped Van and Cory’s story, and without you, well, it would be a mess. Thanks for your eyes, hugs, and spankings.

To my readers - THANK YOU! I hope you found a few hours of enjoyment reading Hardcore. Catch you on the flip!

Hearts and Arrows

Deer in Headlights (Hearts and Arrows 1)

Snake in the Grass (Hearts and Arrows 2)

What the Heart Wants (Hearts and Arrows 2.5 Novella)

Doe Eyes (Hearts and Arrows 3)

Fool’s Gold (Hearts and Arrows 3.5 Novella)

Hearts and Arrows Box Set

Hardcore (Erotic Suspense Serials)

Volume 1 -
FREE

Volume 2
 

Volume 3

Bad Habits

With a Twist - Summer 2015

Chaser - Fall 2015

Last Call - Winter 2016

Nailed - Erotic Shorts

FREE
 
with newsletter subscription

Once

FREE
 
short story on Amazon

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

STACI HAS been a lot of things up to this point in her life: a graphic designer, an entrepreneur, a seamstress, a clothing and handbag designer, a waitress. Can’t forget that. She’s also been a mom to three little girls who are sure to grow up to break a number of hearts. She’s been a wife, even though she’s certainly not the cleanest, or the best cook. She’s also super, duper fun at a party, especially if she’s been drinking whiskey, and her favorite word starts with f, ends with k.

From roots in Houston, to a seven year stint in Southern California, Staci and her family ended up settling somewhere in between and equally north, in Denver. They are new enough that snow is still magical. When she’s not writing, she’s gaming, cleaning, or designing graphics.
 

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