“Yes.”
“I…” Closing my eyes, I press my face into her neck. “He’s dead.”
“Bastard.”
“He’s really dead.”
“Yes.”
“I can’t believe it.”
“I know. We did it. I’m so proud of you.”
Opening my eyes, I lean back and slide both my hands up to cradle her face. “I’m proud of us. I love you.”
“I love you too,” Faina murmurs just as I capture her lips with mine.
It’s the perfect kiss under moonlight with fire blazing in the background and the quiet kiss of waves against the speedboat. It feels like a moment I’ll treasure for the rest of my life.
A life about to be cut short because the moment we collide with the beach, lights and assault rifles surround us and Richard Whittle is standing nearby with a shit-eating, smug grin on his punchable face.
35
FAINA
Two days later, after floating ashore in Australian waters to the sneering grin of Richard Whittle, I walk out of the police station a free woman.
It feels…good.
Better than good.
It’s like everything that was weighing me down has finally been lifted and I can breathe properly for the first time in years. It’s a strange sensation as wariness still tingles at the back of my neck, like a nerve twitching while I wait for the other shoe to drop.
Maybe Hawk isn’t really dead. Maybe the rest of the Hexagon, not destroyed during the yacht’s sinking, are still out there looking for revenge. Or worse, maybe Cian hasn’t been as lucky as me.
Hands on my hips, I stand at the top of the staircase and gaze up to the perfectly blue sky. There’s not a cloud in sight and the sun beats down without mercy, warming my skin to the point ofuncomfortableness, but I don’t move. There was no heat in my cell so I’m going to soak up every second of this.
Two birds burst into view. They fly together out of a tree and meet in the air above me, spinning and chirping while seemingly locked together in a bitter argument. Squinting, I watch them dart left and right, then up and down in circles until it clicks that they’re not fighting. They’re dancing.
How cute.
“Call for you,” barks a voice to my left. I glance away from the birds to face Richard and sourness warms the back of my tongue. I’d promised to never see him again when I left my cell and it’s already too soon.
He holds a cell phone in his hand and thrusts it toward me as we stare at one another. “Who is it?”
“Do I look like your fucking secretary?” he barks. “You’re lucky I even brought it to you.”
Cautiously, I take the device and press it to my ear while maintaining eye contact with Richard. “Hello?”
“Faina?” Anastasia’s warm tones flood my ear and that warmth seeps through my soul as relief blooms in my chest. “Faina, are you there?”
“Anastasia?” My voice cracks, despite my best efforts, and Richard sneers at me.
“Oh, thank fuck,” Anastasia groans. “You’re okay. I’m so glad you’re okay.”
I want to tell her the same. I want to tell her I agonized for weeks over her safety and had no idea if she was alive or if Hawk hadmade good on his threat and killed her, but in front of Richard, the words don’t come. I refuse to show weakness in front of the asshole who tried to lock me up forever.
“I’m okay,” I say after a long silence. “Are you?”
