Highways & Hostages

• Dedication
  
• WEDNESDAY
  
  • Finn, 7:34 p.m.
    
  • Stella, 7:46 p.m.
    
  • Finn, 9:27 p.m.
    
• THURSDAY
  
  • Stella, 12:23 a.m.
    
  • Finn, 4:18 a.m.
    
• SATURDAY
  
  • Finn, 9:39 a.m.
    
  • Stella, 11:18 a.m.
    
  • Finn, 6:08 p.m.
    
  • Stella, 6:26 p.m.
    
  • Billy, 6:33 p.m.
    
  • Phoebe, 6:49 p.m.
    
  • Finn, 8:14 p.m.
    
• SUNDAY
  
  • Stella, 8:06 p.m.
    
  • Finn, 10:22 p.m.
    
  • Billy, 11:03 p.m.
    
• MONDAY
  
  • Stella, 3:46 a.m.
    
  • Finn, 9:34 a.m.
    
  • Phoebe, 11:19 a.m.
    
  • Stella, 6:54 p.m.
    
  • Finn, 8:37 p.m.
    
  • Billy, 9:48 p.m.
    
  • Stella, 9:23 p.m.
    
  • Phoebe, 10:42 p.m.
    
• TUESDAY
  
  • Billy, 12:14 a.m.
    
  • Phoebe, 1:58 a.m.
    
  • Billy, 6:28 a.m.
    
  • Phoebe, 7:47 a.m.
    
  • Finn, 8:24 a.m.
    
  • Stella, 6:45 p.m.
    
  • Finn, 7:13 p.m.
    
• WEDNESDAY
  
  • Finn, 4:35 a.m.
    
  • Stella, 1:02 p.m.
    
  • Finn, 3:19 p.m.
    
  • Billy, 3:31 p.m.
    
  • Stella, 3:50 p.m.
    
  • Finn, 3:56 p.m.
    
  • Stella, 4:24 p.m.
    
  • Phoebe, 10:28 p.m.
    
• THURSDAY
  
  • Finn, 7:15 a.m.
    
  • Phoebe, 8:35 a.m.
    
  • Billy, 10:15 a.m.
    
  • Stella, 7:08 p.m.
    
• FRIDAY
  
  • Finn, 10:33 a.m.
    
  • Stella, 1:29 p.m.
    
  • Finn, 3:04 p.m.
    
  • Stella, 8:14 p.m.
    
  • Finn, 8:16 p.m.
    
  • Stella, 8:35 p.m.
    
  • Billy, 10:48 p.m.
    
• SATURDAY
  
  • Finn, 2:03 p.m.
    
  • Stella, 6:20 p.m.
    
  • Billy, 6:47 p.m.
    
  • Stella, 9:35 p.m.
    
  • Phoebe, 9:46 p.m.
    
  • Finn, 9:40 p.m.
    
  • Stella, 9:52 p.m.
    
  • Finn, 10:03 p.m.
    
  • Stella, 10:18 p.m.
    
  • Finn, 11:35 p.m.
    
  • Stella, 11:50 p.m.
    
• SIX MONTHS LATER
  
  • Finn
    
  • Stella
    
• Acknowledgements
  
• About the Author
  
• Thanks for the read!
  

For my mom, Kimberly Edgerton, who believed in me every step of the way and then some.

Planning a heist was never easy… not that Finn Gilroy had ever actually planned one before. Sure, he’d done some breaking and entering when he was a teenager, but this time he was spending days preparing. And he’d never broken into the house of someone he had a history with… but if he was being honest with himself, he was sure going to enjoy it.

In a back corner booth of the Leaky Stein Ale House, Finn and Alex Beckham pored over a large blueprint that covered the tabletop. Finn and Alex had originally been attracted to the bar based on the enormous selection of beers on tap. They returned because of the pretty waitresses in their tiny German barmaid costumes. It also wasn’t a bad place to talk shop. But mostly, it was the German barmaids.

“I’ll use the code Danny gave us to disable the security alarm. You start looking for the chalice in the back rooms on the first floor. I’ll scan the front rooms and keep a lookout on the door, okay?” Finn explained. After going through the plan over and over in his head for days on end, he was ready to get the damn thing over with and move on to the next project. He rubbed his eyes and scanned the bar.

Modeled after a hunting lodge in the German forest, the Leaky Stein boasted a lot of dark wood and fake leather. Mounted deer and moose heads silently observed the comings and goings of patrons. Chandeliers made from enormous deer antlers completed the aesthetic. The clatter of billiard balls, the blather of numerous TVs, and the chatter of beer enthusiasts made it nearly impossible for the two men to hear each other, let alone for someone else to overhear their discussion. Considering most of their conversations revolved around their questionable activities as art traffickers, this was necessary.

“Art traffickers” was such a dirty phrase; Finn preferred to think of himself as an “acquisitions agent.” It just so happened most of the things he acquired entered the country without the government’s notice.

“Hide the print; the waitress is coming,” Alex hissed.

Finn whisked the blueprint off the table as their waitress, Stella, neared. She was clad in a short green dirndl and matching knee-highs with bows. Her shoulder-length red hair bounced jauntily in two pigtails tied with green bows.

“Hi, guys,” she said. “Long time no see.”

“You mean since last week?” Alex asked with a charming smile.

“Well, you guys used to come in, like, everyday. I’ll bet you don’t even need the menus,” Stella said. “What’ll it be?”

“I’ll have a bacon cheeseburger with waffle fries,” Finn said.

Alex cleared his throat and tugged at the collar of his button-down. “Could I have the wedge salad with the balsamic vinaigrette on the side?” He gave Stella his best winning smile. She blushed and ran a hand over her hair.

Finn shook his head and lifted a brow in Alex’s direction. Everywhere they went Alex flirted with someone. Finn had even seen him pick up a woman at a funeral. According to Alex, anyone with a great rack and a full set of teeth was fair game. Finn made a point of being more discerning with his tastes.

“What?” Alex asked innocently. “I’m watching my carb intake.”

Stella grinned and flipped a pigtail over her shoulder. “Wedge salad it is.” She turned away from the table.

“Hey, wait!” Alex called. “I’m pretty sure you didn’t have a ring on that finger before.”

Stella glanced down and twisted a ring around the fourth finger on her left hand. It was a silver band with a large, oval-shaped ruby in the center, flanked by two smaller round diamonds.

“Yeah, my boyfriend—I mean, fiancé—proposed a couple of days ago.” She shook a few rogue strands of hair from her eyes and chuckled. “Gosh, it feels weird saying that.”

“Congratulations!” Alex crowed. He turned to Finn. “Looks like another fine specimen is off the market.”

Stella reddened again. “Thanks… Well, I’m going to go put this in for you guys.”

As she walked away, Alex leaned out of the booth to get a better look at her. He turned back to Finn and playfully kicked his shin. “You have a thing for redheads, don’t you? When was the last time you even went on a date?”

Finn drummed the table absently, the pendant light above the table catching the engraved signet ring on his pinkie. He looked Alex squarely in the eye. “I don’t have time for dates. Right now I’m focused on the job.”

Finn was more than focused on the job—he was married to it. He hadn’t left his grandmother, his only remaining family member, in Florida so he could come to Las Vegas for shits and giggles. He’d had a rough time of it growing up, until one day Julian Beckham walked into his life and offered him the opportunity of a lifetime. Eleven years later, he was established in Las Vegas with an amazing condo, a sweet car, and more money coming in than he ever thought he’d see in his life. He owed everything to Julian, and he wasn’t going to screw up now. The way Finn saw it, dating led to relationships. Relationships led to distractions, and distractions led to mistakes. Neither he nor Julian took mistakes lightly.

Alex rolled his eyes. “You have fun with that. Life is way too short, man. Just remember, all work and no play makes Finn a dull boy.”

“Now you sound like your brother.”

“Speak of the devil,” Alex said, looking over Finn’s shoulder.

Finn turned around to see Billy Beckham, Alex’s younger sibling, making his way toward their table. Billy shared Alex’s dark brown hair and blue eyes, but that was where the similarities ended. Billy reminded Finn of a proud rooster with the way he kept his hair shaved on the sides and teased on the top of his head. His face still retained its youthful fullness, whereas Alex’s face was angular and looked as if it had been chiseled from marble.

“Hey, guys! Thanks for the invite!” Billy sneered as he slid his scrawny frame in next to Finn. “Have we figured out how things are going down tonight?”

“‘How things are going down’ is that
you
are parking around the corner from the mansion and keeping your eye on the door. You text us the minute you see anything, and when we’ve got the chalice, you drive the getaway car,” Finn said.

Billy crossed his arms over his chest and scowled. “I don’t see why I can’t help with the actual heist. I’m twenty-four, but you guys still treat me like a kid.”

“You certainly act like one,” Alex muttered.

“Cut it out, you two. Driving the getaway car is a vital part of the mission,” Finn said. “I don’t know about Alex, but I’m not going to run all the way back to Julian’s—especially with something as valuable as that chalice.”

“Who the hell even wants a chalice?” Billy asked. “Can we just call it what it is—a glorified pimp cup?”

“It’s about more than just the chalice. It’s the fact that von Rothschild stole it out from under us. You know he and Dad used to be really tight back in the day,” Alex said.

Billy tapped his chin and directed his next comment at the ceiling. “Hmmm, did that have anything to do with you dating Claudia?” he asked innocently. “Who dumped you for our lovely friend sitting next to me.”

Finn narrowed his eyes at Billy as Alex scowled. Von Rothschild’s daughter, Claudia, was still a sore subject between Alex and Finn. Alex, the man born with a silver spoon in his mouth and given anything he ever hinted at wanting, had been kicked to the side for Finn, a troublemaker from the streets. Yet another reason Finn had sworn off relationships: they were nothing but trouble.

Finn cleared his throat and scrubbed a hand over his face. “We’re off topic. Besides, it’s not our job to ask motive, Billy. We just procure and deliver.”

Billy pursed his lips. “Whatever you say, Boss.”

Finn spread the blueprint over the table again and bent low over it. He was determined to commit every inch of it to memory.

“Hey, look over there,” Alex said. He angled his head in the direction of the bar’s entrance. A teenage girl with shaggy blonde hair, sporting a flannel shirt, ratty jean shorts over tights, and unlaced combat boots was seating herself at the bar. Their waitress, Stella, made a beeline toward her. After they talked for a moment, the teenager lazily got down from the barstool and planted herself at a table for two. The waitress glanced around quickly, then ducked into the seat across from her.

Finn turned back to the table. “Enough distractions.” He tapped the blueprint. “Focus.”

“I wonder what they’re arguing about. The waitress is really pissed.” Billy was practically vibrating with excitement.

And this is why you’re stuck driving the getaway car
, Finn thought. He glanced at Alex, who was also watching the argument, and cleared his throat. Alex’s eyes flickered to him, then back to the front of the bar. Was he trying to prove he didn’t answer to Finn? It was a silent, never-ending power struggle between the two of them. Finn swallowed hard and fought the urge to snap. There was no point in starting a fight when they all needed to be on the same page tonight.

Billy’s head whipped around as the teenage girl walked toward the bathrooms just behind their booth. When she passed by the table, her walk slowed. She made eye contact with Alex and gave him a coy smile before continuing to the bathroom.

Billy nodded appreciatively. “She’s cute.”

“She’s clearly jailbait, little brother. Don’t even think about it.”

“Definitely jailbait. Thank God I don’t have a sister,” Finn said. “I’d be too worried about keeping her away from guys like you to do anything else.”