Free A New Day (StrikeForce #1) by Colleen Vanderlinden Page B

shit without her. I know that better than anyone. She deserves it. Plus we’ll need someone who knows how to make sure none of it is traced back to us, and she knows how to handle all that shit. We’re about to get very, very rich, Jolene. Your strength, my ability to get into places where people don’t want me. Built-in getaway. We’re unstoppable.”
    “If we decide to go through with it,” I said quietly, eyes glued to his.
    He smiled again. “We both know you wouldn’t be here unless your mind was already made up.”
    “And StrikeForce?”
    He laughed. “They’re scared of you. Everyone is. The best thing you ever did was knock down that motel. Put the fear of god in everyone who saw it. That’s where we want them. Afraid. Knowing damn well that they’re out-powered.”
    “Are they?”
    “The strongest one they have is Alpha. Pretty sure you could take him, if it came to that.”
    “It doesn’t bother you, that I’m the muscle here?”
    He shook his head. “I’m very equal opportunity that way. And I’m not without my own strengths.” He met my eyes again. “So. Partners?” He held out his hand.
    I stared at it for a few long moments.
    And then I put my hand in his, hoping I hadn’t just sealed my own doom.
    “Good. Come on in and sit down. We have a lot to talk about.”
    “It’s safe to talk here?” I asked, looking around.
    He nodded. “I sweep it every couple of days. I’m a little paranoid about it,” he added with a shrug.
    “Paranoid is good,” I said, and he grinned at me.
    “I knew you’d get me,” he said. I followed him up the stairs and to the opposite side of the second floor from the rooms I’d tried to rob. He walked into a wood-paneled library, and I was met with the sight of dark, shining wood shelves, books lining every wall, and I think, maybe, that was the moment I fell a little in love. Not with him, of course, but definitely with his library.
    “Nice,” I said, looking around. He shrugged. “Where did you get all this?”
    “Jobs. It’s one of my things. You ever look in these people’s libraries? First editions, signed books. Antique books. It pisses ‘em off when you take shit like that. Even more so than jewelry, sometimes.”
    I nodded. I knew it would piss me off. You can take someone’s wedding ring. Diamonds can be replaced. But you do not mess with someone’s books. He was, maybe, a little more evil than I was.
    “Plus, I had to fill the shelves,” he added.
    “Yes, I noticed you have a thing about being well-stocked.”
    “Long story,” he said.
    “I don’t doubt it. Seems a little obsessive, though.”
    He nodded, a ghost of a smile on his lips. “Well, it started as one thing, and then it ballooned to all the things, because I could afford it.” He met my eyes. “It’s not that weird.”
    “If you say so,” I answered.
    I turned and walked along one wall, looking at the spines of the books without really seeing them. “I want my mother kept out of this. At all costs. No matter what happens between us, no matter whether something happens to me or not. She’s not involved.”
    He nodded. “I never would have involved her. I already told you that.”
    “I find it hard to believe.”
    “What? That I’d know the one thing in this world that really means something to you, and I wouldn’t use it?” He studied me. “That’s not me.”
    I glanced away. “That, and we don’t hurt anybody. I’ve gotten this far without hurting anyone, without even coming close to killing anyone. I’m not going to start now.”
    He didn’t respond, and turned toward him.
    “Right?” I pressed.
    “If someone comes after me, guns blazing or something, I’m going to use what I have, and I’m not going to feel bad about it.”
    I crossed my arms. “You don’t need to fight back. You have your built-in getaway car.” I paused. “Was that Dearborn thing at the hotel you?” I’d seen a news report the day before about a robbery at one of the