“Hush, sweetheart.” I take a step forward. Then another. “Think about it, Vincent. You walk out of here with her, you’ve got a lawyer. You walk out of here with me, you’ve got the head of the organization that’s been destroying your operation. That’s leverage. That’s a fucking bargaining chip.”
I can see him calculating, weighing his options.
“Stop moving,” he orders.
I don’t stop. I keep walking, slow and steady, arms still spread. Every step brings me closer. Every step pulls his attention away from the rooftop across the street.
“You’re insane,” Caruso hisses.
“Probably.” I’m ten feet away now. Close enough to see the sweat beading on his forehead. Close enough to see his finger tightening on the trigger. “But I’m also the only chance you have of getting out of this alive. The FBI has you. But they need my evidence. I can get you out of the charges and out of the country, set you up somewhere without extradition.”
“You’re lying.”
“Maybe.” I take another step. “But can you afford to take that chance?”
For a moment, nobody moves. The gunfire below has faded to sporadic bursts. The FBI is winning. Caruso’s operation is crumbling around him.
He makes his first mistake.
He shifts his aim from Josie to me.
Just for a second. Just long enough to point the gun at my chest, to scream something about how he’ll kill us both?—
“DOWN!” I roar.
Josie drops.
She goes boneless, dead weight, slipping out of Caruso’s grip like water through fingers. He grabs for her, off-balance, his gun swinging wild?—
The shot comes from nowhere.
One moment Caruso is standing. The next, his head snaps back, a red mist blooming in the air behind him. The fucker crumples like a puppet with cut strings.
I’m moving before his body hits the ground.
“Josie—”
She’s on her hands and knees, gasping, shaking. I drop beside her, pulling her into my arms, running my hands over her body checking for wounds.
“Are you hit? Josie, talk to me, are you?—”
“I’m okay.” Her voice is hoarse, ragged. “I’m okay. I’m—” She looks up at me, and despite everything—the blood, the bruises,the chaos still raging around us—she manages a weak smile. “Took you long enough.”
A laugh tears out of me, half-relief, half-hysteria. “Fuck.”
I pull her in, crushing her to my chest. “You said two fucking minutes, Josie Bright.”
“I lied.” She reaches up, touching my face with trembling fingers. “Sorry.”
I kiss her.
It’s not gentle. It’s not soft. It’s desperate and messy, tasting of blood and tears and the overwhelming relief of having her alive in my arms. She kisses me back just as fiercely, her zip-tied hands fisting in my shirt, pulling me closer like she’s afraid I’ll disappear.
“I’ve got you,” I murmur against her lips. “I’ve got you. You’re safe.”
“I know.” She’s crying now. “I knew you’d come.”
Behind us, Lee clears his throat.
