“We have a ruby to steal.”
Chapter 9
Gray had never been so grateful for the wind blowing into his face. The handles of the sleek, lightweight motorbike trembled in his grip, sending the tremor all the way to his shoulders. Just hours ago, he’d still been in the process of mourning his lost limb, convinced that he’d have to go through having a prosthetic arm fitted, his bike modified, and maybe fight some battles with the DMV on the way just so that he could ride again.
Now? Now he felt as if it had all been a bad dream, and he’d just awakened on his bike, rushing into the night with nothing holding him back.
Well. Almost nothing.
Shadow was glued to his flesh, and though after a week in the cell he did stink like a sweaty T-shirt after a long workout, he was also pleasantly warm and had asked for permission to touch when he got on behind Gray. So there was progress. But it was the plain way in which he craved to please Gray that was unexpectedly endearing.
But then Gray reminded himself that he hadn’t taken Shadow out of the cell to enjoy his company. He’d done it to heighten his chances of succeeding at a job the club deemed too risky to attempt. What they really meant though was that they weren’t certain a crippled Gray could do it, and the rest of them weren’t adept at work that required stealth and would have to prepare first.
Gray didn’t. Gray could do this kind of shit even woken up in the middle of the night—even without one arm—and he would prove to them that he was still the same man. That he didn’t need to be coddled or protected from danger that had always been an integral element of the work he did for the club.
The Pigeon Heart was being moved from the New York City museum, where it had been a part of a temporary exhibition, back to its owner. It would be at its most vulnerable in transit, and Gray refused to let this opportunity slip through his fingers just because the others no longer had trust in his abilities. He would prove them wrong.
Beast hadn’t been thrilled to find out about Gray’s rogue solo mission, but with almost three hours’ advantage on his brothers, Gray could no longer be stopped. As long as Shadow remained at his side, he’d be once again complete and perfectly capable of going through with this job. The Pigeon Heart wasn’t just a pretty jewel to sell to a sheikh somewhere on the other side of the world. The fate of them all depended on whether the club put their hands on that stone, and there was no way Gray would let this opportunity slip through his fingers. And once he succeeded, none of his brothers would have any doubts about his abilities.
Life would be back to normal again.
He sped up and took a deep inhale of the fresh air blowing at him through the corridor of the thick woodland on either side of the road. Once again, he was free and whole.
Away from large towns, the night was perfect for hiding them from unwanted gazes. It was late, so there was a chance that whatever crew was taking care of the transit wouldn’t be as alert as during the day, some perhaps even sleeping. There would be no distractions, only pure focus to prove Gray’s worth.
The rail tracks ran past an overpass that led to nowhere—part of an incomplete roadworks project that had long been abandoned and hidden away in the thick greenery of the forest. It would be the perfect spot to strike, and the navigation device would easily lead him back there once he left the train.
He was on time and ready.
Silence boomed in his ears when he switched off his engine and took a deep breath of the fresh air scented with early spring. It was no longer just damp leaves and pine. Now there were grassy undertones to the aroma, and he smiled, glad to be out here on his own. He loved his biker brothers dearly, but on a fast and quiet mission like this one, company would have only been a liability.
Movement right behind him was a startling reminder that even though he was technically the only person on the bridge, he still had to deal with Shadow. Originally, Gray had intended to use Shadow as backup, but the black arm that felt so right it might as well have been Gray’s own flipped the game on its head. Now Gray could do the job alone. He just needed Shadow to follow.
“What are we looking for?” Shadow asked, leaning over the concrete edge on the side of the unfinished overpass.
Gray swallowed, straining his eyes, which barely discerned the tips of the trees against the background of the sky. It was a starless night, so whatever light could have aided him on the job was blocked by thick clouds.