“We’re leaving?” I rasp. Thank God.
“As soon as you can get your sorry ass out of bed and change clothes.” Trevor stands and shoves his hands into his pockets. “Matt’s getting Lisette, Noele, and Matten settled in the transpo. Nomar can’t fly for another three days, but he’s already in an ambulance headed for Samarkand, and he’ll be in Boston by the weekend.” Gesturing to the duffel bag he dropped by the chair, he sighs. “Fresh clothes are in there.”
“We’ll be ready in ten minutes.” Shoving the blanket off us, I help Joey to her feet as Trevor pauses with his hand on the door handle.
“Ford?” he says, his voice low and almost monotone, “when we get back and unpack all this shit, there are some things about me you’re going to want to know. Things I should have told you a long time ago.”
Joey
It feels like we’ve been traveling for a week, even though it’s only been a little over eighteen hours. Mateen is safe at St. Jude’s with a guard on his door twenty-four-seven. Courtesy of Ford and his boss, Dax, Lisette and Noele have a little apartment three blocks away and their own private security.
Midway through our travels, Ford asked me for my address, and I was so tired, I didn’t even wonder why until the black SUV, driven by his friend Clive, pulls up in front of a brownstone in Charleston.
“We’re home, buttercup. At least…our temporary home.” His voice is stronger now, and he holds out his hand to help me from the vehicle. Clive scans the area, then leads the way, opening Ford’s apartment door and moving quickly through the space, gun drawn.
“Ronan’ll be out here all night,” Clive says after he declares the apartment clear. “And Wren’s monitoring for chatter. We hear anything, you’ll know.”
“Thanks.” Ford claps Clive on the back and then shuts and locks the door. The lights illuminate the masculine space, a rich leather sofa and recliner, a dark wood dining table with six chairs, the large flatscreen television.
“I’ll give you the full tour later,” he says as he leads me down a hall, past what looks like a home office and a bathroom, and into a large master suite. At the foot of the king-sized bed, a bench holds two suitcases. My suitcases.
“Ford?”
He stares down at his shoes. “I don’t think there’s any danger. But…I almost lost you again yesterday, Joey. I had Ella go to your place and pack…whatever she thought you’d need for the next few days.”
“The next few days? Two suitcases? I can pack a week’s worth of clothes and toiletries in a backpack.” Despite my shock, the gesture makes my eyes burn, and I wrap my arms around his waist. “Thank you.” Peering up at him, I frown. “What did you mean our temporary home?”
The corded muscles of his back flex as he shrugs. “That’s up to you. This place isn’t in my name. No one at Second Sight uses their real name on their leases. Safer that way. It’s a nice neighborhood. Quiet. Easy access to the T. But if you want to move somewhere new…somewhere that’s ours, then that’s what we’ll do.”
Pulling back, Ford slides his fingers through my hair to cup the back of my neck. “I love you, Joey. We can’t go back and have the life we planned out twenty years ago. But we’re damn sure going to have one hell of a life together. Starting right now.”
His lips crash down on mine, and suddenly, there’s nothing else in my world but him. My Marine. The man I’ve loved for two decades. He saved me. And in the end, it was his love that helped me save myself.
Epilogue
Ryker
Coding myself into our condo, I roll my head to work out the kinks in my neck. The loud crack seconds after the door opens makes Wren yelp, and she barely holds on to her laptop.
My heart skips a beat. Seeing her curled up on our couch, working, is the best sight to come home to. “Sorry, sweetheart,” I say as Pixel leaps up and starts yipping and running circles around me. “Hey, furball.”
Wren’s smile staggers me. Every day, I wonder what she saw in my eyes when we met. “You’re home.”
“Damn right.” I pull her into my arms, letting her wrap her legs around my waist. “Missed you.”
“Obviously,” she says with a laugh.
My jeans are suddenly painfully tight, and the scent of her, all that honeysuckle and heat, means we might not make it to the bedroom. “Can you take a break?”
“Almost.” She lowers her head and kisses me, her tongue tracing the seam of my lips. I yield to her demands, nipping at the corner of her mouth before she pulls back. “I just got this surveillance video from Nomar of that compound where they had Ford’s fiancé. I want to load it into my facial recognition software and let it run. It’ll probably take all night. Or…at least long enough for us to do…other things.”
As she returns to her computer, I head for the fridge for a beer. “I like the sound of that.”
“Thought you would. Grab me one?” Wren’s fingers fly over the keyboard. “Got a good way through unraveling Faruk’s finances too. The guy’s got a computer genius on his payroll. I tracked deposits through five different countries, multiple banks… He’s good. But I’m better. All the trails lead back to his compound in Afghanistan. Close to Mazari Sharif.”
Afghanistan. Not far from Hell. The hiss as I open the beers reminds me I’m free. Safe. With Wren in our condo in Seattle. Not back in those caves. Talking with Dax over the past ten days has brought up some painful memories, and I’ve been riding the edge of the darkness inside me for so long, I don’t know what it’s like to be on solid ground.
“Ford’s back, right? They’re both safe?” Dropping down next to her, I hand her the beer, then let Pixel settle in my lap. Stroking the pup’s fur, I force myself to relax.
