Page 53 of Impossible Thrills

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Page 53 of Impossible Thrills

Paul could make the man sleep like a baby and not even realize he hadn’t just fallen asleep on the job when he woke up.

Nick smiled and pulled out his utility knife. Silently unlocking the window and sliding it open, he was relieved when no alarm sounded. He slid in through the window, landing in a crouch.

He looked around with the goggles. The open basement room was about thirty by forty feet and appeared empty save a cot, mini fridge, an overflowing garbage, and a couple of camp chairs. It reeked of old takeout containers and spilled beer. Stairs went up to the exterior entry he’d avoided. A set of double doors was on the other side of the room.

Searching for cameras, he saw one in the corner that had been activated by his movement. Too late to turn back now. He darted across the room and dismantled the camera. If there was nothing to hide down here, nobody would be monitoring the feed. If there was, all heck would break out soon. He smiled, welcoming a battle. It might be his chance to end Trattori.

Paul slid in the window and raised a hand. “Tried the next door yet?”

“You do the honors, friend.”

Paul bowed and then eased to the double doors. Nick approached from the opposite side of the doorframe. Paul tested the handle. Locked. That fact alone showed there was something to hide.

He jimmied the lock. The door slid open, but the alarm pad just inside the door frame was flashing. They had seconds to punch in the alarm code, or waking up the children would be only the start of the chaos. There was almost no chance the code matched the one from upstairs.

Fishing around in his duffel, Paul pulled a small device out of a side pocket and placed it on the alarm. A pulse and the flashing light disappeared. Nick went left and Paul right, taking out the cameras in each corner of the interior room, or … tunnel.

All was secure, for the moment. He took the time to look around. Rows of running lights at the base of each wall lit a wide dirt tunnel. A small electric Ranger utility vehicle sat next to them, ready to run them, or Johnny Trattori’s latest shipment of drugs, to the other side of the border.

“My Spanish is better, and I look more like a native,” Paul said.

“I’m Italian. I’ll tell them I’m Johnny’s cousin,” Nick countered.

“The love of your life is sleeping two floors above us.” Paul clasped his arm. “I’ll check it out and be right back.”

Nick couldn’t argue. Darcy was his priority. He had to stay and make sure she and her children were safe.

“Hurry,” he urged. The tunnel could be half a mile long. If they weren’t planning on a shipment tonight, would they turn their guns on Paul? No. They’d assume it was one of their men. Unless those cameras had raised alarms and they were on guard.

Paul grinned, started the Ranger, and took off down the tunnel.

Nick prayed his friend would be safe and that he wouldn’t have to wait long. He should be exhausted from this long and eventful day, but adrenaline coursed through him. He’d gone without rest before.

Easing back through the open door to the other room, he searched around again. He heard nothing and didn’t see any other cameras that they’d missed. Pulling out his phone, he texted Aiden what they’d found. He pushed send and heard the rumble of tires on gravel outside.

His spine stiffened, and he had to put his goggles on his forehead as dim lights penetrated the basement window. He saw the lights of two vehicles stop next to his Range Rover.

Easing closer to the window, he counted eight men climbing out of the two vehicles. They fanned out, angling for the basement door. They had to know he and Paul were here. He hurried to close the door they’d opened then grabbed the still open window frame and lifted himself out, sliding the window almost closed. Replacing his goggles, he searched around. Men were headed for the main floor kitchen entrance and the basement door.

He wanted to curse. He eased around the side of the house, away from the men, and sent a text to Paul in case he couldn’t hear him over the noise of the Ranger or in case the men could hear his voice. A load of men. Stay.

Then a text to Aiden. A load of men. Come quick.

Best case, Aiden was an hour out. How could he keep everyone safe and expose, arrest, or kill Johnny Trattori?

First order of business was to get to Darcy. He heard movement around the side of the house, and then the kitchen door opened and the alarm beeped. They knew the code.

He looked at the house and knew exactly which upstairs room was Darcy’s. Setting his duffel bag on the ground, he quickly armed himself, then pulled out the Gecko gloves. He normally liked playing Spiderman, but not when the woman he loved was in danger.

Chapter

Seventeen

Darcy couldn’t sleep. She should be exhausted, but she was too happy, exhilarated really. Nick had come with her to her house. He was incredible with the children, and he was here for her, putting her first.

Maybe she should stay away, but it couldn’t be wrong to sneak downstairs and snuggle on the couch, talk, maybe plan a tentative future. Would that be pushing him too hard? She could content herself with more sweet kisses. He still had that elusive ‘job’ he had to take care of. As long as he came back to her after each job, she’d trust him to go.

Creeping out of bed, she pulled on a T-shirt and some joggers, applied some mint lip gloss, pulled her hair out of the ponytail holder and fluffed it with her fingers, and slid into some flip-flops. She slid out of her room, down the hall, and down the stairs. Her smile grew as she approached the smaller living room where they’d set up his bed.




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