Jackson Stiles, Road to Redemption (Road to Redemption #1)(97)

When Green pulls her revolver out of the holster hanging from her hip, part of me wants to congratulate her for getting rid of the ankle kit. The other part of me wants to kick my own ass for giving her the idea to change it up in the first place.

There’s no expression on her face as she points the gun at us and motions for me to get out of the car.

I take that back; there is an expression. It’s called betrayal. How f*cking stupid can I be in the span of a week?

I turn the engine off and give my brother a look.

Once upon a time, back in high school, if anything was going down, we’d share this look to let each other know it would all work out; we had each other’s back. It was kinda our thing.

Right now, I’m not sure what he’s thinking, but I’m getting a bad feeling about this situation. And I’m sure as hell not so confident that everything’s gonna work the f*ck out.

We open our doors and slide out of the Chevelle, slow and easy. Hands up. We know the drill.

“Hi, Stiles.” Green gives me a half-smile.

I nod once for her. “Judas.”

“Kinda wishing you weren’t here right now.”

“Kinda wishing I hadn’t banged you last night.”

“Don’t be like that.” She looks sincerely offended.

Hypocrite.

“Like what? Regretting that my dick was inside an evil temptress less than twenty-four hours ago?”

“Stiles…” she warns.

“That I shared shit with you I haven’t shared with-”

“That’s enough.” The sound of someone’s voice, off in the dark distance, interrupts me. I peer out into the night to try and see who it is. I want some confirmation that it’s Black. But I see nothing.

When I’m back to Green, she tucks some hair behind her ear.

Interesting.

“Guns.” Her voice is low and soft but commanding. If she wasn’t threatening my life with a pistol pointed at me right now, I might find that shit sexy.

It’s not the smartest idea giving up the Smith and Wesson right now, but hell, what am I gonna do? Fake it like I’m not bearing arms? Green knows better than that. She also knows where I keep it.

Once mine is on the ground, I look to make sure Nick is complying. Movement out in the shadows tells me there’s plenty of backup for Green and Walker. But who the hell are they?

I know for sure Black is one of them, but is Dad out there, too? And if he is. Whose side is he actually working for? Nick’s? Or Walker’s?

No one knows what the hell to say for a minute or two. I’m busy trying to see past the darkness to determine whether or not there’s a building of some sort on this property.

I’m sure there is. I just need to find it.

That’s where Stix’ll be.

I need a diversion.

Whatever happens at this point, I know Nick will catch up fast. I just need to…

Gotcha.

“So, well-played, I guess.” I give Green a look of sarcastic irony. Her eyes give me no hint whatsoever as to what she’s thinking.

“She does good work, yes?”

I point over toward the voice. “Fuck you. I’m talking to the lady. Or shall I say─”

“No, you shall not.” Green shoots me a death stare.

Her trigger finger twitches. I might think she was anxious to shoot me except for the fact that she’s f*cking with her hair again. So I know she’s lying. The combo tell proves it beyond a shadow of a doubt. But is she lying to me, or is she lying to them?

“Spare us the drama, Mr. Stiles.” Walker practically rolls his eyes. “Those who live in glass houses shouldn't throw stones.”

“Those who-”

“What?” Nick’s finishes my question and looks over at me like he’s thinking the same thing I’m f*cking thinking.

“You seriously quoting the Bible when you’re about to commit murder, Walker?”

Lame.

Green shifts, and I catch what looks like her scoping out her odds before she goes bitch face again. No one notices but me, and quite frankly, I’m stumped.

“Don’t hate her, Mr. Stiles,” Anonymous, a.k.a. Black, probably, tells me from the darkness. “She’s simply good at her job. Aren’t you, Emma?”

Hearing him call her by her first name kinda pisses me the f*ck off. Where the hell does this shitbag get off calling her Emma?

She must not like it either because she doesn’t answer him. One last look between us and I’m done giving myself away, both literally and figuratively, thank you very much.

A car alarm goes off somewhere. It’s loud enough to distract Walker’s attention and whomever else is out there. Without thinking, I roll and grab my gun back from the dirt. Then I make a f*cking run for it.

I don’t look back to see if Nick is following behind. I’m sure he is. All I can concentrate on right now is Stix.

“Goddammit!” I hear frustration hitting someone, then another curse. “Which way were they headed?”

“No idea.” Green’s voice is like a knife to my chest, but I can’t dwell on that.

There’s a commotion of some sort, then more yelling, but I’m too far away to hear what’s being said. It’s dark enough out here that he might shoot at me, but the chances of him hitting me are one in about twenty-five. Give or take.