“I think that’s a good idea,” I said. “This has been…”
“A very different experience than I thought it would be,” Margot elegantly supplied, her mouth warm but her eyes grim. “And I can apparently give a repeat performance.” It took a second for her meaning to sink in, and when it did, I sighed. She’d killed again, probably in the street when they were running across the open space toward the apartment building. Licking her lips, she looked at her hands. “I’m a mother, Viggo. I have given life, and now I’ve taken it away.” Shaking her head, she met my eyes again. “It’s not right.”
I sighed and closed the distance between us, capturing her slim hand in between mine. “I meant what I said, Margot. There’s no shame in staying behind. I presume Cad will be staying?”
“He will. You know how hopelessly in love with me he is.”
“Well, we never said he was the brightest bulb in the—yow!” The sting from the palm of her hand on my shoulder was… impressive, and I rubbed the spot, trying to soothe away the pain. “Just kidding! Mercy!”
Margot chuckled, and I let go of her hand, glad that she’d gotten a laugh out of it. The smile chased away some of the darkness lurking in her eyes. On impulse, I pulled her against my chest and gave her a quick hug. She clung to me tightly for a moment, and then let me go, sniffling. “Please take care of yourself,” she said, reaching up to smooth down my shirt. “I have such a good wedding planned for you and Violet.”
I chuckled, then nodded. Glancing at the doors in the hall, my smile slipped, and I sighed heavily. “You need any help with the women the Porteque guys were… keeping prisoner?”
Margot gave me a look—one that told me I should know better—and shook her head. “Viggo, a man going into those rooms is not going to be well received right now, even if he is setting them free. Some of them are so drugged up they can barely speak. They’ve all been tied up and…” She trailed off, her eyes drifting down. “It’s just better if you go. We’ll handle it—stop wasting time with me.”
I let her push me toward the stairs, and after one last goodbye, I headed down. Mags and Alejandro were on the second floor, where the stockpiled supplies had been kept, watching carefully as ammo was being distributed, magazines refilled.
I slapped my empty one down on the table next to Gregory as I went by, and he didn’t miss a beat as he continued to slide bullet after bullet into the chamber. “You can do it yourself, Croft,” he said as he tapped the magazine and handed it back to the owner.
“Didn’t put them there for you to do, Miller,” I shot back, and he laughed.
“Arthur and Marna volunteered,” said Mags hurriedly. “So did—”
“Margot and Cad,” I finished for her, trying to speed things along. “I ran into her on the steps. We almost ready to go?”
Mags smiled and pulled out her map, tapping her finger on our position. “After you left, I realized there was another good reason to go after this building in particular,” she exclaimed. “We can just cut straight across here”—her fingers indicated—“using the alleys. They’re not on the maps, but I know they are there. Two blocks, Viggo, and we’re there.”
“What about the Porteque guys?” I asked.
“The ones who got away will seek shelter within other buildings, and the others will avoid the streets until they know what’s going on. Either way, it’s two blocks, and practically a straight shot. We should take it.”
I studied the map and then nodded. “Let’s do it.”
Moving back over to the table, I blinked as I picked up my magazines, the rounds packed in them. Gregory smirked as his fingers continued to move, and after a moment, I slipped them into my pocket and clapped him on the shoulder. “Thanks. Almost done?”
“Four more and we’re good,” he said, tossing a completed magazine into a duffel bag on the floor beside him. “I’ll meet everyone on the ground floor.”
I exited the room, practically plowing into Cad as he stepped onto the top step. “Hey, did—”
“I know you’re staying,” I said. “Margot told me—and I’m glad for it. Just be careful, okay?”
“Of course. Good luck at the plant.”
We exchanged a brief hug, and then I moved downstairs. Mags was already waiting by the door, a crowd of our men behind her, filling the hall. She surveyed the street, her blue eyes flicking up to me as I slowly pushed through the crowd, angling for the young man standing at her side.
Tim beamed up at me as I reached out to gently ruffle his hair. “You okay?” I asked. “You had me a little worried with that superhero thing… But I’ve gotta admit, it was pretty awesome.”
“I sit. Good duck.” His reply was flippant, but I knew he had been a little rattled.
“You did a good job, Tim. I mean that… Just next time, wait for me, eh?”
“No promises,” Tim said, and I sighed. I often forgot that Tim and Violet shared the same trait for being headstrong and stupidly brave. I was going to have to keep my eye on both of them from here on out.
“How’s it look?” I asked Mags.
“Just waiting for the all clear from the fourth floor,” she replied.
I studied the street through the glass doors, looking past the bullet-riddled bodies and the torches still burning on their sides on the black street, to the park across from it. It offered plenty of cover. If I were lying in wait to shoot someone, I’d do it there.
“Park is clear,” announced Cad through the bud, and I heard people passing out the message to those who didn’t have comms. Then a beep at the command channel had me switching once again, hoping it wasn’t Ms. Dale telling me they were going to start without us.
“Guys, we got a big truck rolling up on the guard post,” said a less-familiar feminine voice instead, and I recognized it as Tasha, the Liberator who headed the small group we’d left to hold the guard post and cover our escape route, just in case. “It’s coming up fast.”
I checked my watch and cursed. It had been twenty minutes, give or take, since Desmond had escaped, and we had anticipated she might go for the nearest guard post, which was incidentally the one we’d captured—the worst way to puncture a hole in our defense.
“Roger,” said Henrik’s voice. “Violet is behind her by a few minutes, so just fend her off. Be careful.”
“We got this,” Tasha replied confidently, and I had to clench my teeth together to prevent myself from saying anything for fear it would make that confidence diminish. Moments passed with no update, and then thirty seconds… Even though I wasn’t there, I felt tense for them. I just hoped they had stopped her.
The Gender Plan (The Gender Game #6)
Bella Forrest's books
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- Beautiful Monster (Beautiful Monster #1)
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