“Honey, you’ll lose your mind being tied to adesk.”
“I’m losing my mind being away from you.” Shetouches her mouth to mine. “If I feel this way now, how am I goingto feel when I’m away from you and our kids? I can’t say to Skip,I’ll remain a Special Agent only if you don’t keep me away from mywife and kids for more than a couple of days.”
She smiles. “I see your point.” With one ofher small delicate hands, she caresses my cheek. “You know yourlimits. I trust that. But I don’t want you to regret anything.Regret can turn into resentment, and that would be awful for bothof us.”
“We’ll talk more about it when the op isover. In the meantime, I’ll explore my options.”
“’Kay.” She looks at the clock, and I followher sightline.
Shit. It’s eight-twenty. I down my coffeethen say, “I’ll use the bathroom first. I’m fast.”
She nods, and I feel my jaw tighten.
I hate this.
She’s dressed when I come out, and she grabsmy hand and squeezes as she walks by to go into the bathroom.
Fifteen minutes later her head is lying belowmy pecs, and her arms are around my waist. I’m sifting my fingersthrough her soft hair, and I can’t find the words to tell her anyof it. How much she means to me. How much I love her pussy, ass,and thighs. How leaving her is ripping my heart out of my body.
I place my hands on her cheeks and lift herhead. I lean down and kiss her deep, wet, and slow, trying to poureverything I feel for her into that kiss.
When I raise my head, she smiles up at me andsays, “Me too.”
I guess I got it right. She felt what Icouldn’t say.
I turn, dig into my duffle, pull out a smallbox, and flip up the lid. I drop the ring into my palm, turn backto her, and lift her left hand. As I slide on the ring – it fuckin’fits – I say, “Merry Christmas, baby. You’re the gift I didn’t dareto dream I’d ever have.”
I had one of the admins write one my checksfor a chunk of cash, and Niles brought the wad over to the house.Yesterday, that cash did a lot of talking at New York City’sdiamond district. Which is why Theresa is now looking down at aprincess-cut diamond surrounded by two smaller diamonds set inplatinum. Her mouth is open in the shape of a small O.
She looks up at me, blinks a few times, thenthrows herself at me, gets up on tiptoes, and pulls my head down tohers.
This time her kiss says it all.
Against her lips I say, “Love you,Theresa.”
Against my lips she says, “Love you, Ethan.Be safe and hurry home.”
***
With my duffle slung over my shoulder, Istuff my hands into my jacket pockets. When Theresa was in thebathroom, I strapped on my weapon in its ankle holster. In thelobby, I sat in a corner and relocated my weapon to my jacketpocket. The minute I step out of the building onto the sidewalk, Ifeel the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.
Shit. Someone had to’ve been sitting on thehotel all night. For this very reason, I’d made Theresa promise shewouldn’t leave the room for an hour. Moving NY brisk, I walk aroundthe block and head toward the garage where my car is parked. I handthe guy my ticket, drop the duffle at my feet, and wait with myback to the wall, watching the street. When the same black panelvan drives by a second time, I know it’s them.
I pull out my phone and call Skip, give himmy location, describe the van, and tell him to get NYPD to roll upon the garage. I assure him I won’t leave until they get here.
The cruiser pulls up before my car is broughtdown. Both cops get out and give me chin lifts. “Youfederalesgetting ready to shoot up our quiet ’hood?” theshorter of the two asks. His nameplate says Carlos Lopez.
“Actually, I was thinking maybe you’d like togive me a tour of your house while one of New York’s finest gets mycar and drives it over to your precinct.”
The tall one laughs. “Just like a fed tothink we’re a chauffeur service.” His nameplate says JohnO’Reilly.
The New York City grid system can be a painin the ass. One-way streets mean you’re forced to go where youdon’t want to go to get to where you want to go. But today, thegrid system is my friend. The garage is too far up the street forthe assholes in the van to see the cop car, and now they have nochoice but to come past us.
“They’re here,” I say, my gaze locked on thevan. “Back up the cruiser.” O’Reilly gets in and blocks the streetin less than ten seconds. The van can’t go forward, and there arecars coming up the block. I can tell these assholes aren’t going tocome quietly. Lopez starts walking toward the van, unsnapping theleather over his weapon when I yell, “Down.”
He hits the deck and I crouch behind theentranceway to the garage as the side door of the van slides open,and a guy in a watch cap takes a shot at me. Lopez is out of sight,having wedged himself under a car. The bullet ricochets off thestone wall, the shot way too close to my head for my liking. Threeguys, all in watch caps, spill out of the van and start runningtoward Central Park, which is about fifty yards away.
As I take off after them, I see O’Reilly onthe radio and know he’s calling for backup. Lopez is running behindme, and as we hit Central Park West we’re forced to play dodge caras the three gunmen jump over the short stone wall that rings thepark. By the time we get there, they’re ghosts, but we go overanyway, and the drop is not fun. As we hit the ground, we hearpeople screaming in the playground to our right and take off towardEighty-first Street, which is a main thoroughfare through the park.I hear the sirens before I see the cruisers speeding toward thepark. Two mounted officers come into view. They’re riding off,heading east along the north side of Eighty-first Street.
