Lights Out: A Dark Stalker Rom-Com
Lights Out: Chapter 22

Junior pulled open the rear of the power company van and motioned us in. I couldn’t be sure, but it looked a lot like the one I’d been in before, and after the whole held-at-gunpoint situation, it made me wary of getting inside it again.

We were on a back street near an industrial complex on the city’s outskirts, shielded from the setting sun by the surrounding buildings. It was that weird time called gloaming when daylight was dying, and even though the streetlights had kicked on, it wasn’t dark enough for them to do much, leaving us in a murky world of gloom.

I squinted into the gaping maw of the van, barely able to make out the six-man crew we were joining. These were not the same guys from before. They looked more like something out of a military movie. Despite their differences in age, race, and stature, there was a sameness about them that spoke of a cohesive unit of people who’d trained and worked together for so long that they barely even needed to communicate anymore because they inherently knew what came next.

I gathered my resolve and climbed inside, ignoring the way the men made my hackles rise. There was room close to the door on one of the bench seats, so I folded myself down and nodded toward the others. “Thanks for letting us tag along.”

All I got back was a single grunt and several blank looks.

“No, you’re right,” I said. “Better to stay mysterious.”

Movement caught the corner of my eye, and I turned to watch Aly climb in.

I tucked her beside me on the bench so I could whisper, “Bet you twenty bucks I can get one of them to laugh before the end of the night.”

She grinned up at me. “You’re on.”

Junior plopped down across from us, and the way his gaze shifted from me to Aly made me feel like he hadn’t missed the way I’d placed her closest to the door, shielding her from the others with my body. A subtle jerk of his head told me he approved before he turned to the man next to him and said something I missed because the van’s engine rumbled to life.

I took Aly’s gloved hands in mine and blew into them. “You warm enough?”

Her eyes crinkled as her smile shifted from amused to something else. Something filled with affection and warmth. “I’m good.”

“Well, I’m freezing,” I said to have an excuse to wrap an arm around her and pull her closer.

She poked me in the ribs. “Liar.”

I kissed her forehead, ignoring everyone else in favor of the distraction she provided. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d been so nervous. Maybe the first night I broke into her house?

Junior said his dad had ordered someone to watch Brad’s place after our first aborted break-in attempt, and according to that person, the cops hadn’t come back yet. They were still waiting for their search warrant to get approved. The Bluhm family lawyers were fighting it, but Nico thought they would lose that battle sooner rather than later, which was why we were here now. Tomorrow could be too late.

Aly peeked past me to take in the other men in the van. Everyone inside was dressed in the power company’s uniform. We even had official-looking badges hanging around our necks – including Junior and Aly, who were staying behind with the driver and “tech guy” while the rest of us went in. The badges were our only forms of ID, and Junior said they’d check out if anyone looked into them. It made me feel marginally better that so much thought had gone into this, but no amount of planning could lift the brick of unease out of my stomach.

I was about to break into the house of the man I’d killed, and part of me worried that this was a setup. We’d been told the mob handled Brad’s body and his car and any DNA evidence left at Aly’s place, but all we had to go on was their word. It didn’t feel like a stretch to think that someone like Nico might have an ulterior motive or at least a backup plan if anything went sideways, and it definitely wasn’t lost on me that I’d make the perfect scapegoat.

Unfortunately, there wasn’t much I could do about my suspicions. If I didn’t wipe all potential traces of Aly from Brad’s computer, she’d be vulnerable, and I’d rather risk myself than her.

I steadied us both as the van rolled forward, tightening my hold on Aly to ensure she didn’t slide into the door. She squeezed my thigh in silent thanks, and I knew I was freaking out because, for the first time, her touch didn’t make me instantly hard.

She shifted forward beside me, her gaze trained on her cousin. “What happens if the cops are there again?”

Junior shook his head. “They won’t be. We have people watching.”

“What if they show up while we’re there?” she pressed.

“We’ll get everyone out before they reach Brad’s,” he said. “And again, we have people watching.”

“What if they sneak past your people?”

Junior rolled his eyes. “Brad’s house is in a gated community. There’s one road in and out of there, and we have three cars on the street leading to it. If the cops come from either direction, we’ll know in plenty of time to escape.”

Aly narrowed her eyes. “Won’t a utility van tearing out of Brad’s driveway look suspicious to neighbors?”

A muscle jumped along Junior’s jawline, and he answered her slowly, like he was trying to keep his temper. “We’re not going to tear out of anywhere. We’ll leave at a non-suspicious speed.”

Aly’s gaze swiveled toward the front of the van. “You sure about that after the way your last driver panicked?”

Junior shook his head. “Vinny isn’t driving today. Now, will you quit it with the twenty questions? We’ve been over all this.”

Aly flopped sideways into me. “Sorry, but I’m nervous, and the best way to ease my anxiety is to learn as much as possible.”

Junior blew out a breath, his temper fading. “I get it, but there’s not much for you and me to do but sit here and look pretty.”

She frowned at him. “I’m not nervous for us.”

I bumped my knee into hers. “That’s sweet, but I’m sure our new friends will be fine despite their delicate appearances.” A glance showed me that I didn’t get so much as a lip-twitch with that comment. These guys were going to be harder to crack than I thought.

“I’m not talking about them either,” Aly said, then grimaced. She leaned forward again to look past me. “No offense.”

She got a head nod from one but nothing else. Oh, to have such self-control. Silence was descending on the van, and the urge to break the tension with another joke was almost too strong to resist.

Thankfully, Aly saved me from myself by wrapping her fingers through mine and looking up at me. “Are you going to be okay?”

My insides turned warm and fuzzy as I stared into her large brown eyes. She looked so concerned, her brows drawn together, lower lip pinched between her teeth. If it wasn’t for our audience, I would have swooped in and kissed her worry away.

Instead, I raised my free hand and brushed her hair over her shoulder. “I’ll be fine. And if shit goes sideways, don’t try to wait for me.” I leaned down and bumped my forehead into hers, dropping my voice so only she would hear it. “You might have noticed, but I’m very good at sneaking around. I’ll be able to get myself out of there if I have to.”

The corners of her eyes crinkled. “Then let’s hope nothing happens because I don’t know if I could leave you behind.”

“Hey,” Junior called out, “love birds. You need to mic up.”

I reluctantly turned from Aly and accepted a contraption made of slim plastic from the guy beside me.

“Throat mic,” he said, pulling his on.

I glanced down at the one in my hand and wondered if they’d miss it if I “accidentally” forgot to take it off later, and it ended up coming home with me. It looked military-grade, the collar so slim that I’d probably barely feel it once it was on. A nearly transparent, whisper-thin cable wound up from it to a small earbud speaker. I’d never seen anything like it before, and the urge to dissect it and figure out how it worked was strong.

“Here,” Aly said, taking it from me. “I’ll help you put it on.”

I turned toward her in silent acquiescence, grounding myself in her presence, trying to tell my racing heartbeat that everything would be okay. The men in the van were professionals, and their strategy was solid. I just needed to get in, wipe Brad’s computer, and get out. They would handle the rest, and if everything went according to plan, this whole operation would take less than half an hour.

“Lean down,” Aly said.

I bowed, breathing deep as she lifted the collar over my head. This close, I could smell her shampoo, and it took me right back to the shower we’d shared. After the mind-blowing sex, I’d turned her around and washed her hair for her, lathering her strands and kneading her scalp while she went boneless within my grasp.

“Head up,” she said, and I complied. Her nimble fingers tightened the collar around my neck. “How’s that?”

I raised my voice to a squeak. “Little tight.”

She grinned and loosened it. “How about now?”

“Perfect,” I told her. Just like you, I wanted to add but stopped myself when I remembered our audience. This woman had a way of making me forget where I was, and I’d never been more grateful for it than now.

She tapped my chin. “Turn your head.”

I did what she said and ended up facing Junior.

“You remember what to do?” he asked.

I nodded. “Let the A-Team lead the way, and don’t touch anything but the computer.”

Aly slipped my earbud into place, and I lifted my hand and adjusted it until it was comfortable.

“We’re almost there,” the guy at the far end of Junior’s bench called out. He had a laptop open and balanced on his knees. He was the tech guy staying behind to monitor our progress and help with anything we might need, including cutting the power long enough for us to get inside Brad’s place undetected so we could disarm the security system from inside.

Junior shifted across from us. “You sure you can pull this off?”

I grinned. “It’ll be a cakewalk.”

It was not, in fact, a cakewalk. We were only ten minutes into our little operation and had already encountered several problems. The first was that Brad’s house had a beefy generator, and the moment Junior’s guy cut the power, it rumbled to life. Of course, the security system was hooked up to it, and I watched with my jaw clenched while the “hacker” bumbled his way through disarming it remotely, repeatedly telling me to shut up and let him concentrate when I tried to point out there was a faster way.

The second problem occurred as we rounded the property. A raised fist from the front of our five-man line signaled a halt. I waited, breath steaming in the frigid night air, while the leader slunk to the edge of the house. He leaned down and picked something up that I couldn’t see from my distance because Brad’s closest neighbors didn’t have generators, so it was darker than sin between the buildings.

The man made a motion like he’d thrown something, and a heartbeat later, floodlights lit up Brad’s backyard like a Roman candle. We flattened ourselves against the side of the house to keep to the shadows.

Someone swore, their voice loud in my ear because of the earbud.

“What is it?” Junior asked. “What happened?”

“We told you to keep the line clear,” someone snapped at him, and the urge to ooh was so strong I had to bite my lip to shut myself up.

“The lights are tied to the generator,” our lead man said. “We’ll have to disable them remotely.” He turned and motioned to the guy in front of me. “Get up here with the jammer.”

The squat man scurried forward, pulling a device that looked like a radar gun from his Batman-style toolbelt. Watching him carefully aim it around the corner of the house before clicking a button that instantly killed the lights was one of the coolest things I had ever seen, and I wondered if the pocket-picking skills I’d developed during my brief, rebellious teenage stage were up to the task of lifting it off him.

Apparently, I turned into a kleptomaniac around advanced technology, but who could blame me? A magical jammer that killed lights with a single flick? There wasn’t a tech geek alive who wouldn’t have developed a sudden case of grabby hands in my place.

“Let’s go,” the lead man said.

I kept my hand braced on the wall as we started forward, wondering how he could see where he was going after those floodlights had ruined our night vision. The answer of “he can’t” came a second later when he tripped over something buried in the snow and went diving head-first into the shrubbery.

The noises coming over the line from his struggle to free himself were so loud that I nearly pulled the speaker out of my ear.

“What’s happening?” Junior demanded, ignoring the earlier call for quiet. “It sounds like you’re fighting. Was someone inside waiting for you?”

I couldn’t keep myself from answering. “Our fearless leader just faceplanted into a Rhododendron, but he’s coming out of it now. He looks embarrassed.” The man swiveled toward me, and even in the darkness, I could tell he was glaring. “Oops, now he looks pissed.”

A snicker echoed over the line.

Victory!

“Aly, you owe me twenty bucks.”

“Doesn’t count,” she said. “That was Junior.”

“Keep the line clear,” someone barked.

I covered my mic and tapped the guy nearest to me. “I’ll pay you ten dollars to laugh at my next joke. I need to win a bet against my girlfriend.”

“Hey!” Aly said. “I heard that. No cheating.”

The lead guy pointed at me. “For the last time, keep the fucking line clear.”

I saluted him and mimed zipping my lips.

We managed to make it into the house without more difficulty, but as soon as we closed the door behind us and stepped further inside, the third problem slapped us in the face. The men ahead of me pulled up short and exchanged looks, and it made me feel marginally better that I wasn’t the only one who recognized the gag-inducing scent of a decomposing body.

The leader pointed at the two guys behind him. “Find out what that smell is.” He turned to the next two in line. “You go replace the cell phone.”

That left just him and me behind. Goody. I got the grumpiest one for a babysitter.

“Let’s get to that computer and replace out if you’re all talk,” he said, turning toward the grand staircase to our right.

I followed him up it, trying not to gawk at the displayed wealth. My salary wasn’t anything to scoff at, but I’d never make the kind of money Brad came from. The staircase was lined with dark paneling, above which hung gold-framed paintings that probably cost more than my car. Overhead, a chandelier dripped with crystals that caught the moonlight shining through the high windows, sparkling silver in the darkness.

The plan was to traverse as much of the house as possible in the dark. Traditional flashlights could be seen through windows by neighbors, but we had fancy low-light red UV ones on us if absolutely necessary. Mine was strapped to my toolbelt, and I was itching to test it. And yes, it was another piece of spy gear that would probably go “missing” by the night’s end. Aly had been so turned on by our talk of future mask play that I had a feeling I could put all these tools to good use with her.

“Everyone’s in, right?” the man left behind with Aly and Junior asked.

The guy in front of me responded in the affirmative.

“Then I’m kicking the power back on if everyone is ready,” came the reply.

We reached the top of the stairs and ducked low in case a nearby light sparked to life.

“Ready,” the leader said.

The other two-man teams chorused him, and all the machinery in the house beeped when the power returned. A soft glow illuminated us as a distant light lit up the downstairs, but thankfully, none close to us had been left on.

The leader turned to shoot me a look. He was a white guy of medium stature with hair that had turned mostly gray. Like Brad, he had one of those faces that would be hard to pick out of a crowd, and I bet his ability to blend in had made him an excellent soldier once upon a time. Maybe that was why he had such a chip on his shoulder – his military days were over, and civilian life didn’t suit him.

Our neck mics were powered by little battery packs attached to our toolbelts, and he reached down and killed his transmit switch. “We need to stay low.”

I cut mine off, too, and nodded. “I can do that.”

He eyed the way I was folded up like a pretzel, his gaze wary, obviously distrusting my abilities.

“I work legs twice a week,” I told him. “I’ll be fine.”

He snorted and flicked his mic back on. With a “follow me” gesture, he turned and started down the hall, knees bent, spine bowed so he could slip beneath the window sills.

I sighed, knowing my height was working against me, and followed after him, dropping to all fours whenever I reached a window and scuttle-butting past them like a Teen Wolf wannabe.

We scanned every room we came across, which was a lot. During our briefing earlier, Junior told us this was an eight-bedroom house complete with two home offices, a library, a study, and multiple bathrooms. There was even a wine-tasting room in the cellar, but when Aly asked if we could filch a couple of the good bottles since it wasn’t like Brad would miss them, she got a look of censure from her older cousin and a staunch no.

We found what looked like Brad’s office halfway down the hall. The guy with me closed the blinds and the door while I went to the computer. I was turning it on when the fourth problem struck.

“Uh, we got a situation down here,” someone said, and for the first time, the stone-cold façade they all shared sounded like it was cracking.

“What is it?” their leader asked.

“There are two huge piles of cat litter on the basement floor, and the smell is coming from them.”

“What the fuck?” Junior asked. “Does Brad have a tiger or something?”

“No,” I said. “The litter is meant to cover the smell of rotting bodies and absorb the decomp liquids.”

Only when the words were out did I realize I’d probably revealed too much about myself.

The leader craned his head toward me, frowning.

I shrugged, trying to act nonchalant. “I watch a lot of true crime documentaries.”

He eyed me for a long moment before speaking. “Everyone out.”

I frowned. “I just got the computer booted up.”

He jerked his head toward the door. “Out. Once the cops replace those bodies, their warrant is going to shift from a simple search order to a top-to-bottom investigation. Every surface will get dusted. We can’t risk leaving anything behind.

“I just need five minutes,” I told him.

He shook his head. “We’re leaving. And if you’re smart, you’ll join us.”

With that, he slipped out the door.

Well, shit.

“Josh?” Aly said. “Are you going with them?”

I glanced from the door to the computer screen, ready for me to enter a password. My hair was covered with a baseball hat that sported the power company’s logo. The gloves I wore were leather, so there would be no prints or fibers from them to replace. Our boots were from such a popular brand that there were probably thousands of people in the city who owned them, making them nearly impossible to trace.

The likelihood of getting caught was akin to being killed by a gopher: low, but never zero.

I took a deep breath. “I’m staying behind. I’ll meet you at the rendezvous point when I can.”

“I’m staying with you,” Aly said.

There were so many shouted noes to that statement that I barely heard my own over them.

Aly’s voice came through clear as day afterward. “Don’t try to stop me.”

Her cousin wasn’t having it. “Dad will fucking kill me if I let you out of this van. Hey! Where do you think you’re – get back here!”

The sound of a scuffle came over the line, followed by a loud groan and then silence.

I was almost afraid to ask, but I forced the words out. “What just happened?”

“Your girlfriend,” Junior said in between wheezes, “just kicked me in the junk and ran off into the night.”

“Oh, so she’s your cousin when she’s being good and my girlfriend when she’s misbehaving? I see how it is.”

“Will you quit dicking around?” Junior snapped. “I’m guessing you have incoming.”

“We can intercept,” the lead man chimed in.

“Absolutely not,” I said, suddenly stone-cold serious. “If anyone so much as lays a finger on Aly, I’ll make all your lives a living hell. Don’t think I’m not capable of draining your bank accounts and putting illegal shit on your computers and phones.”

Was I happy with Aly right now? Fuck, no. But that didn’t mean I was okay with someone else restraining her.

“Do you understand?” I said, my voice so low with warning that I barely recognized it.

“Copy that,” the lead guy said.

“Junior?” I pushed.

“Yeah, fine,” he grumbled.

I let out a sigh of relief. “Was anyone able to locate Brad’s phone?”

The response was an immediate negative.

Fuck. There was no way I could leave without trying to replace it. At least most of the hacking software I brought with me was automated. I could hit run on all the applications and search the house while they churned away.

“Aly, baby,” I said. “Can you wait for me in the shadows out back? I don’t want you entering the house since less of you is covered.”

Her sweet voice was a relief when it came over the line. “I can wait, but hurry up. It’s cold as shit out here.”

“I’ll hurry,” I told her.

“We’re leaving,” Junior said. “We’ll keep the watch cars in place and wait for you at the pickup spot. We won’t be able to hear you guys once we get out of range, so you’re on your own. Only use the burner phones as a last resort.”

“Got it, thanks,” I said. “I’ll work as fast as I can, Aly.”

“I know you will,” she said, the open trust in her voice spearing straight into my heart.

“I’m going to be quiet for a bit so I can get this done.”

Her tone turned saccharine-sweet. “How will I ever survive the silence?”

A snort-laugh came over the line, telling me the others were still in range.

I stiffened. “Please tell me that was Junior.”

“Nope,” he said. “I think that means you owe her twenty bucks.”

Aly let out a quiet whoop of victory.

I groaned and got to work.

The first thing I did was pull a thumb drive from my tool belt and pop it into a USB port. I’d loaded my favorite generative password-cracking AI on there, and it took less than ten seconds for it to log me into Brad’s system. Next, I opened a file that would scrape Brad’s entire web history, set the keywords to every variation of Aly’s name I could think of, along with her home address, and hit “run.” It didn’t matter if Brad had used Firefox or a stealth browser that promised it was untraceable. My crawl tool would replace them all and mine them for the data I sought.

That done, I opened another handy piece of software that a hacker friend had created. He called it the Brick Layer, and no, I had never gotten him to explain the significance of that name.

The program searched for hidden files and hard drives. Once it started chugging away, I pushed back from the chair and left the room, careful to keep as low as possible and out of sight while I traversed the hall, searching for Brad’s phone. I was aware that this would be easier with two people, but if I couldn’t replace Brad’s phone and some digital trace of Aly was on there, the cops replaceing any physical trace of her inside the house could be disastrous.

The end of the hall was dark enough that I decided to risk turning on my flashlight, remembering the instruction to keep it pointed down at all times. The red beam functioned as promised. I could hardly see much in it, so I doubted anyone would notice the glow out of the windows.

I peeked in doorways as I passed them, but the bedrooms that lay beyond looked like they were for guests. Finally, at the very end of the hallway, in the darkest part of the shadows – because, of course – I found Brad’s room. There wasn’t much to point it out at first, just the subtle hints that it was more lived in than the rest, but I went with my gut, and as soon as I stepped inside and saw a pair of shoes discarded near the bed, I knew I was in the right place.

Junior told us that Brad lived alone and rarely ever had company, and now I knew that probably had something to do with the dead bodies in the basement. The realization made me shudder. I was in a house with two corpses, and god only knew how many other people had died inside these walls.

A spine-chilling feeling slithered down my back. It felt like someone had reached out to touch me but changed their mind at the last second.

I whipped around. No one was there.

Yeah, this place was definitely haunted. What had Mom told me to do if I ever encountered a ghost?

“I mean you no harm,” I whispered.

“Who are you talking to?” Aly asked, making me jump.

I clutched my chest, trying to relearn how to breathe. “Uh, no one, sorry. Just looking for Brad’s phone.”

“Want me to come help?” she asked.

“No. Please stay outside.”

“Fine.”

“Aly,” I ground out.

“I said fine! Just hurry up. My toes are starting to tingle.”

“Could be worse,” I said, resuming my search of the room. “You could be the son of a serial killer currently stuck in a murderer’s house with his last two victims somewhere a few floors below you and are trying not to spiral or let the memories of your childhood send you screaming from the place.”

Aly was quiet for so long that I thought my earbud must have cut out.

“Aly?”

Her voice came through so low that I barely heard her. “I think someone just pulled into the driveway.”

I clicked my flashlight off, fear and adrenaline flooding my veins. “Can you check?”

“Yes,” she whispered. “I’m trying to get to the front of the house, but the snow is loud, and I don’t want them to hear me crunching toward them.”

“Hang on. I think this room might overlook part of the driveway.”

I slunk toward the window and leaned forward just enough to see outside, and – fuck! – there was a car right below me.

“Stay where you are,” I told Aly. “Someone’s here.”

“Get out!” she hiss-whispered.

“Way ahead of you,” I said, racing back to the office. “I just have to wipe you from Brad’s computer.”

“No, Josh. You have to leave. What if they catch you?”

“They won’t,” I told her. “Did Junior text your burner about his people spotting cops?”

“No, but they could be in an unmarked car, or it could be one of Brad’s friends or family members. Josh, get out.”

“I will as soon as I’m done. I’ll go out the window if I have to.”

I really didn’t want to go out the window, but as I skidded around Brad’s desk and saw just how much of Aly I’d have to erase from his search history, I realized it might come down to that.

Hoping to buy myself some time, I shut and locked the office door before starting to wipe the browser Brad used to look for her. He had two hidden ones, and a quick glance revealed that there was more than enough on there to damn him in the eyes of the police, so I left them intact and wiped the other. He also had an encrypted hard drive, so I immediately unencrypted it and ran my search software on that, too. There was no trace of Aly on it, and I didn’t bother looking further into what it contained; I was short on time and figured whatever was on there would probably scar me. I’d already been scarred enough for one lifetime, thank you very much.

“Josh?” Aly whispered. “What’s going on?”

“Shh,” I said, straining my ears. “I think I hear someone coming.”

Her only response was a low, panicked noise. I was right there with her. Footsteps echoed in the hallway as I performed one last-ditch diagnostic test, looking for Aly anywhere I might have missed her.

Come on, come on, I begged as the footsteps drew nearer. The progress bar seemed to slow to a crawl as the doorknob jiggled. Whoever was out there must have beelined straight to this office once they got inside the house. Were they after the same thing we were – Brad’s computer? If so, why? And what would they do with it if they got their hands on it?

“It’s locked,” a low male voice rumbled. “I’m kicking it down.”

Shit, shit, shit.

The voice that answered him was feminine. “Don’t. It will look too suspicious when the search warrant gets executed. I think he keeps a key in his nightstand.”

The man made an angry sound. “If he fled the country, I’m disowning him this time, Vivian. I swear, I’ll do it.”

The vice around my heart slackened. Were Brad’s parents on the other side of the door? I vaguely remembered his mom’s name beginning with a V, and talk of disowning could only come from someone with the power to do it, like his father.

“While I’m at it,” the man said. “I’m firing the housekeeper, too. It smells like the trash hasn’t been taken out in weeks.”

Was it weird that I took Brad’s parents not recognizing the smell of rotting corpses as a good sign?

The sound of their retreat was such a relief that I nearly collapsed, but I fought through it and, trusting my instincts, plugged another thumb drive into Brad’s computer and started making a copy of his machine, hard drives, search histories, and all. If his parents planned to hide the evidence of his crimes by destroying his computer, I’d replace some way to get the backup files to the cops without getting caught.

The downside was that it would take several minutes. I grabbed a chair and braced it beneath the door handle like I’d seen Aly do all those nights before. For good measure, I found a nearby candelabra with a wide base and quietly wedged it against the bottom of the door like a jamb. At least all the antiques in Brad’s English gentleman’s office were good for something.

A peek at the computer screen told me I still needed to stall for time, so when I heard footsteps reapproach the door, I sidled over to it and grabbed the lock from my side, praying my finger strength was up to the job.

The sound of metal-meeting-metal filled my ears as the key slid into place on the other side. Pressure on the lock told me someone was trying to turn it, but I gritted my teeth and pinched it in place. The pressure increased, and sweat began to bead on my forehead as I tried to force all the strength in my body down into my fingers.

“Damn it, this is the wrong key,” the man – Brad’s father? – said.

“What do you mean?” Vivian asked.

“It’s not working.”

“Here, let me. You might have been forcing it too hard.”

“Fine,” the man barked. “You try while I go look for another.”

He stomped away, and I held my ground while the woman tried to open the door politely and, when that failed, attempted to force it even harder than her partner-in-crime had.

“Josh, I can hear people talking,” Aly said. “Please be okay. I need you to be okay.”

I held her words close while the woman put in one final effort. My fingers started getting clammy inside my gloves from pinching so hard, and I didn’t know how much longer I could last without them becoming slippery enough to lose my grip.

Finally, the pressure stopped, and the woman let out a low sigh from the other side of the door before removing the key and following after the man I assumed was her husband. I stood there, stunned for a few seconds, my pulse thundering in my ears. Holy shit, it had worked.

Snapping out of it, I retreated to the computer, where the progress bar on my program had finally reached a hundred percent. I tugged the thumb drives out and erased all traces that I’d hacked my way in. By the time footsteps reapproached the room, I’d killed the computer’s power and was just swinging the office window open.

A rattle told me my time was up.

The moon had risen over the tree line, giving me enough light to make out a drop of ten feet to the pergola below. It was better than nothing. With a silent prayer to any entity who might be listening, I swung out of the window and lowered myself as far as I could, clinging to the window ledge with my fingertips. I took a deep breath and glanced down one last time, trying to aim for the nearest crossbeam as I let go.

The drop was only a few feet, thanks to my dangling act, and I hit the beam just how I intended, feeling a momentary burst of triumph before my boots went skidding off it because of the snow. It was a goddamn miracle that I didn’t let out a shout of panic or a roar of pain as I fell like a human-sized checker in Connect Four. My shins slammed into the beam first, jerking my body forward so my ribs hit it next. That strike bounced me backward far enough that I banged my right shoulder into the opposite beam before finally slipping between them and dropping like a sack of potatoes to the patio beneath.

I sat there dazed for several seconds, trying to figure out which part of me hurt most. Thank fuck I hadn’t hit my head and knocked myself out. Aly was strong, but she wasn’t drag-an-unconscious-two-hundred-and-twenty-five-pound-man-a-mile-through-snow-covered-woods strong.

A tug on my arm had me glancing up to see her panic-stricken face.

“We have to go,” she whispered.

Between her pulling and my piss-poor efforts to stand, we got me mostly upright. Aly immediately threw my arm over her shoulder and tried to drag me toward the woods bordering Brad’s backyard, but I fought her.

“Call Junior,” I wheezed. “Tell his guy to turn the alarm back on.”

“We don’t have time for this,” she insisted.

I grabbed her chin with my free hand and looked at her imploringly. “Please trust me.”

Her expression turned mulish, but she whipped her burner from her pocket and called. “Hi. No, we’re not fine. Someone’s here. We need you to turn the alarm on.” Junior tried to get more information, but she shook her head. “I don’t know. Just fucking do it.”

A second later, she hung up. “It’s done.”

I grabbed a nearby deck chair and slammed it against the French doors leading to the patio.

“What are you doing?” Aly hiss-whispered.

I slammed the chair into them again, hard enough to break them open, hard enough to set the alarm off.

I tossed the chair aside and turned toward Aly. “We have to run.”

She didn’t need to hear anything more, slipping beneath my arm and taking off so fast that I struggled to keep upright as she hauled me toward the tree line.

“Hey!” a man’s voice called out behind us. “Get back here!”

We made it into the woods, where we had to slow down because the shadows were deeper beneath the snow-covered boughs.

Aly glanced behind us. “You want to tell me what that stunt was about?”

“I think it was Brad’s parents in the house,” I said. “They bee-lined right toward his computer. I’d bet you anything they were going to cover up for him somehow.”

“And?” she pressed.

“And in this state, when a home alarm goes off, all the cops have to do is say they believe a crime is being committed to legally enter the house without a search warrant.”

Aly’s eyes flashed wide as she caught on. “You just gave them the excuse to enter the premises they’ve been looking for.”

I nodded. “Once they get inside and smell the bodies, it’ll be all over for the Bluhms.”

She turned toward me and hauled me down to kiss me hard on the lips. The grin that lit her face as she pulled away was bright enough that it felt like the sun had split the darkness. “You’re a goddamn genius.”

I leaned down and gave her a proper kiss, one with tongue and a decent amount of groping.

She looked breathless as I pulled away, and I dropped my hand and twined my fingers through hers. “I’m only a genius if we don’t get caught.”

The lust cleared from her face in a split second. “Oh, fuck. Right. The cops are probably already on their way, and we just left footprints in the snow for them to follow.”

Together, we took off into the night like the criminals we’d become.