“You’re not asking my permission, Kitten,” I said, stroking her cheek with my thumb. “I been told you, I respect the workyou do. This comes with the territory. Just make sure you bring your ass back to me.”
I put my arm across the back of the couch and turned toward the TV.
“I’ve always been able to walk into any of these jobs because I had nothing to walk away from.” She crawled into my lap and straddled me. “That's not true anymore.”
She kissed me softly. “I’m coming back this time, Bear.”
“I know.” I pressed my lips to the top of her head.
“I love you,” she said.
“I know.”
She pinched me in the side. “Fontaine.”
I laughed, a deep bellied one. “I love you too, Nairobi.” I tilted her face up toward mine. “All of you. The difficult parts included.”
“That’s most of me,” she said, resting her head on my chest and I kept my arms around her.
We had three weeks.
I was going to make them count.
EPILOGUE
NAIROBI CRAWFORD
Hana had beentrue to her word. It only took her a few days to find Parker. She’d left Atlanta after our run in at the aquarium a few months ago. She moved to a quiet gated community outside of Charlotte—a cookie-cutter home with a doorbell camera and a stupid welcome mat that saidHome Sweet Home.
Parker really should’ve known better. The Agency may have put her up in a suburban oasis, but you didn’t just disappear by moving two states over and buying new throw pillows.
Fontaine had handled the cameras on the streets and stoplights in a five-mile radius. He disabled her alarm system from the car, his fingers moving across his laptop with a laser focus I’d always found sexy. He’d killed the alarm system in under four minutes and looked up at me after like he was waiting for a grade.
“Go handle your business,” he said.
I gave him a quick peck after I checked my piece and slipped out of the car.
The neighborhood was still. It was a little past eleven at night, and there were a few houses with lights still on, but I wasn’t worried about being seen.
I went around the back of the house. The sliding door was the easiest point of entry, and this bitch had gotten comfortable and tried to upgrade the lock. It gave without much effort.
The inside smelled like Bath & Body Works candles and fabric softener. All of the furniture looked like it’d been left from whoever had staged this place.
I steadied my breathing, despite my pulse roaring in my ears, and moved through the house the way Sterling had taught me. I’d surveyed the house a few days earlier, and the stairs were carpeted so there was no worry of it creaking as I crept upstairs.
The master bedroom was at the end of the hall.
My eyes adjusted to the dark as I slowly pushed the door open. Parker was asleep on her side, one arm tucked under the pillow with her bonnet on. She looked so peaceful and clearly had no idea what she was about to wake up to.
Parker had been my handler for three years. She’d known who I was, who Fontaine was to me, and what we’d been to each other. Every job I’d taken, every client, had gone through her first. She had access to my life—my movements, my history, my connections—and used it to slide into his bed the moment I was gone.
Just because she could.
I crossed the room and pressed the silencer against her temple.
“Wha—” Her eyes flew open and landed on me. There was a split second of confusion before recognition set in.
She knocked the gun sideways with her forearm and came off the bed swinging. I’ll give her that—she wasn’t going to die without a fight. We hit the floor together, the gun falling out of my hand, her on top of me, throwing blows to my face. I got my hands up to block and bucked my hips hard enough to get heroff me.
