Page 147 of Smoke Screen
“Bay is locked. There’s an entry door. Zeke is on it.”
“Well, tell him to hurry the fuck up.”
Ignoring his brother, Phin clicked off and went to work on the bungee cords and rope. Maddy’d been in there a while and he found himself rushing, tugging too hard on the ropes he himself had knotted. What the hell was he thinking, tying them so tight?
A woman he cared about—a lot—not falling out, that’s what.
“Maddy, you okay?”
“Yes. I need to stretch. What’s happening?”
His fingers slipped on the last knot. The one on the thick rope holding the armoire closed.
Dang it.Come on, man. Get it together.
He stopped. Lifted his hands and took a breath.
Focus. Slow down.
Rushing never got him anywhere good.
Trying again, he concentrated on unlooping one end and … bingo. The rope fell to the floor.
He ripped the armoire doors open and a sweat-soaked Maddy swung her legs out.
“Oh my God,” she said, using the upper part of her short-sleeved shirt to blot her face. “I’m cramping up.”
Great. They didn’t have time for that. He gripped her forearms, steadying her as she kicked her legs out, trying to restore the circulation. His fingers sunk into damp skin and he locked his gaze on her flushed cheeks.
What had they been thinking, shoving her in there?
“I’m sorry we did this to you.”
“Hey, I insisted on coming.”
“Still.”
He shook his head. No time for this. Later, he’d figure out a way to make it up to her. “Can you walk? We have to move fast. The guard I talked to went to help his buddy up front. Cruz and Rohan won’t be able to hold them off long.”
“I heard. Is Zeke good at lock-picking?”
“The best.”
Maddy nodded and broke free of his grasp, reaching back for the duffel they’d stuffed in the armoire with her. “Let’s go. Before I wet myself.”
Seriously?
He led her to the rear step, hopping down and swinging back to give her a hand down. His T-shirt caught on his waist holder and Maddy’s eyes bulged at the sight of the nine millimeter tucked there.
Yes. He was carrying. Maybe he should have mentioned that, but they always carried on recoveries and he damned sure wasn’t used to explaining their operating procedures.
He held his hand to her. “Gotta go.”
Dragging her gaze from his weapon, she grabbed hold and leaped, sticking the landing on what had to be wobbly legs.
“Do you seriously have to piss?”
“Yes. Why do you have a gun?”
