by Sara Forbes
I want to break the silence and tell him some of this. But his face is tense, like he's working on some deep problems.
Finally, we swing up to the all too familiar parking lot of the Platinum Star. There's a row of lights on the third floor and in the basement. The middle two floors are dark.
"That's good," he says, sinking back against the headrest. "That's her signal that everything's okay."
I look at him sideways. "If everything hadn't been okay, how would she have signaled that?"
"The light on the second floor would've stayed on. That's where she's sitting—in the kitchen with her hand near the light switch."
I chuckle. "Wow, that's hi-tech."
We get out of the car and walk to the back door. I reach it first and swing around to him.
"I suppose there's no point in me using my old code?" I ask, punching it in anyway. The light stays red.
He steps closer, his eyes glinting. "Looks like you need me."
I grin up into his smirking face, caressed by the red flashing light. "Oh, do I?"
His hands snake around my waist. "Probably not. But you do want me."
"Is that a fact?" I blink at him, trying to look stern. Then my face cracks into a grin that I can't hold back.
My grin falters when he pulls me into his chest and places his hands either side of my head, digging his fingers into my hair. His gaze is intense now, sharp, like the first time I met him, but hotter.
"Jess. I shouldn't say this, but I love you...I don't deserve you, but I love you. I've been such a fool about almost everything. I couldn't let go. I couldn't let you or anyone else do anything. It was all me, me, me, and I put everyone's life in danger. Forgive me."
My heart fills with a massive warmth. I pull back to look at him. "I was too quick to judge you as heartless, and to prove my independence and my superior morals that I kicked you out of my life...until I realized painfully soon that I shouldn't have done that and I wanted you back."
We fall into each other's arms and kiss.
The door opens and Natasha stands there, the bright light illuminating her starkly from behind. She cocks her head at the two of us.
"Knew it," she says.
Egan and I exchange a glance.
"All right, Miss Marple," he says. "Get back up to your cell. We'll be on the second floor if you need us."
Natasha and I hug tightly. "Thank you," she whispers.
I hand over her jacket, cap and purse. "They suit you better anyway."
"Damn right." She laughs and wanders off toward the stairwell.
"Should we just let her go off alone?" I ask Egan.
"Look at her—she's fine. Besides, she's monopolized me for long enough. Now it's your turn."
"What'll happen to her?"
Egan strolls down the hallway. "I'm taking time off from the group to set her up properly. First here and then in a brand-new safe house...of my own organizing. I'm fed up of relying on others. If you want something done properly...and all that. You're actually the first to know."
"I feel honored."
"There's going to be a lot of uncertainty in the coming days and weeks," he continues. "I want things to shake up."
"Yes, I know," I say, uncontrollable feelings welling inside of me. "I don't care how crazy your life is, Egan. I can deal with it. Security isn't all it's hyped up to be anyway. I'd rather have a crazy, unplannable life with you than security with anyone else. Because the crazy, unplannable thing is, I love you too."
Even though it just popped out, I mean it. I mean it more than I've meant anything.
His eyes widen, a smile taking over his face. He devours me with his smoldering look. Then he devours me with his mouth. I kiss him back as hard as my lips can bear. Our bodies mold together and he guides me backward until my spine makes contact with the wall. I want him so badly, I want him to just take me right here. I wind my leg around his thigh, pulling him into me as tight as possible. We can talk another time.
"You make me crazy," he says when we break for air. "I can't plan for that."
"No," I say, sliding my hands up under his shirt. "But I hope I can help you manage the madness."
"I hope so too. Because you're the only one who can."
38
EGAN
THE BITCOIN BILLIONAIRE MEETING next day is a physical one. There's too much new ground to go over to leave it to a video linkup. The guys, except Sean who's in Syria, all fly in within five hours of me calling them. The meeting is here in the Platinum Star as I can't trust any other venue and I don't want to leave Natasha anywhere alone.
First, we discuss Sean's progress. According to Liam, he got Farhid, so we're ecstatic about that and on tenterhooks until we hear they're back safely in England. Then I tell them the full story about Natasha running away and how she contacted Jess, Jess's brave disguise act when we intercepted Natasha at the university, and our return here last night.
They listen in stunned silence.
As this is the best time to spring any announcements on them, I add, "I propose the motion to admit Jess as the first female member of our group, and that we open it up to similar petitions henceforth."
This raises eyebrows. But before anyone I can speak, I continue, "I'm perfectly aware how hypocritical I'm being which is why my second announcement is that I'm stepping down as leader and putting my leadership up for vote."
There's a collective intake of breath.
"Egan—" Paul begins.
I hold up my hand. "It's time, Paul. I'm going to be extremely distracted if I'm setting up a safe house. It'll consume all my time and energy. I can't oversee much else if I'm to guarantee the safety of Natasha and whomever else comes into my protection. As I won't be the one deciding whom to save next, and hence, what direction to take the organization, I should relinquish my power to someone who is fulfilling that role." Here, I glance over at Liam.
Liam sits forward, letting out a nervous laugh. "I hear what you're saying. Egan, but Sean never wanted to run this thing. He truly just wanted to save more people. Put him in charge of that part of the organization, put him in the front line in Iraq, in Syria, in fucking North Korea, but as his twin who loves him but knows him inside out, I'm telling you he can't...do what you do." He gestures vaguely around at the group.
There are nods all round, which is gratifying, but not what I want.
"He's right Egan," Jack says. "You started this thing. You've kept us together over the years. It's hard to see how we'd go on as a group without you."
Everyone's still nodding. More vigorously, if anything.
I huff out a breath. "Uh, I don't know what to say."
"Then I'll say it for you," Paul says. "We've all sat back too much and let you do everything. While some of us complained about your rules, we still passively accepted them. But now it's time for a shakeup. It's isn't just about Bitcoin anymore, it's about lives."
"Hear, hear," Axel says from the far end of the table.
"If I may speak on Sean's behalf in his absence, he's more than willing to take up responsibility for his division," Paul continues. He turns to Felix. "If we get Cara in the group, I know she'll help with the safe house—with her and my cyber-security skills combined, we're sure to keep it secure and untraceable and we know how to create new identities. So, what do you say if we all pull our weight here and you stay on as our leader?"
There's a chorus of "yeahs."
"I can't argue with you," I say, my heart filling with pride. For the first time, it feels like we are a group with a common aim, and that aim is higher than the sky. And the best thing is, I can bring Jess into this. She can be part of the community that's so important to me and it won't be a barrier between us any longer.
"I accept. Thank you for your belief in me." I nod at each of them in turn. "I guess you're stuck with me."
Felix and Liam fist bump. Then the room breaks into animated chatter.
"So, do I get your permission to bring Jess in?" I ask, raising my vo
ice above the din.
They settle down.
Felix raises his hand. "It's a yes from me."
Four other hands go up in turn.
"Then wait a minute and I'll introduce you to our newest member."
39
JESS
"THEY WANT TO SEE YOU," Egan says, coming through the door from the stairwell to the third floor where I'm playing scrabble with Natasha. His face is relaxed, his eyes lit by a new fire of determination. He's back to his old self.
"They agreed?"
"You're officially the eighth member of the Bitcoin Billionaires."
I exhale slowly. "And I'm wearing a t-shirt and distressed jeans? Oh joy."
Natasha snickers.
"You should see what Paul's wearing," Egan says. "You look perfect, as you always do. Now come on. They're dying to meet you. You come too, Natasha."
Natasha widens her eyes at me. Then she shrugs. "I was stuck with ZZQWBX" anyway," she says, showing me her Scrabble pieces.
"She seems suspiciously nervous," I mutter to Egan as we traipse down the stairwell, Natasha slouching behind us.
"Yeah, she's seen them."
"How do you mean?"
"You'll see," he says.
When I enter the meeting room, I do see. Never have I encountered such a collection of good-looking guys sitting around one table. Testosterone oozes off them—each riveting in their own way, from the immaculately dressed, blond guy with the angel face to the scruffy geek on the laptop in the motorcycle jacket, with his chiseled cheekbones and deadly eyes. I don't know where to look so I keep my eyes trained on Egan who's the handsomest of them all. And anyway, it's his job to speak.
Natasha's face has gone pink and she's edging into my side.
"Jess and Natasha," Egan says. "Make them welcome."
The guys stand up in unison and approach us. Suddenly the atmosphere changes to genial rowdiness. The Irishman, Liam, is the first to shake my hand and make me feel comfortable, joking affably about my daring rescue and the fact that I "saved" Egan.
After that, I talk to Californian twins, Jack and Felix Palmer who look like movie stars. Indeed, Jack the dark-haired one is a bona fide movie director. Felix, the blond angel, does something to do with security in casinos in Vegas. Paul and Axel are quieter types who introduce themselves last and in a quiet, guarded manner, though I can't help but notice the long, lingering look that Paul gives Natasha. I know the dark-eyed man in the motorcycle gear is the real brains behind the organization and something tells me he might be just her type. When she comes out of mourning.
The atmosphere is festive as our excited voices echo throughout the room. It brings back the memories of when this building was filled with happy employees. And now I'm part of their organization, a fully-fledged member.
Egan and I find ourselves alone for a blissful moment as the others crowd around Natasha to hear of her ordeal in Russia. We edge away from their little circle to another corner of the room.
"It's cathartic for her," I say.
"Yeah, Jack there is making sure she's not overwhelmed. He's good at that, reads people well."
"You do, too. And this was a good move, Egan." I gesture around at the building. "Even the Platinum Star is happy with you."
"Oh, did it tell you that?"
"Yes. You'll find it's perfectly well-behaved from now on."
He slips his hand around my hips. "You're sure that it doesn't have something to do with you not tampering with thermostats and things?"
I grin. "Hey, the end justifies the means. Wouldn't you agree?"
"This isn't the end," he says. "This is just the beginning."
EPILOGUE
(SIX MONTHS LATER)
JESS
WHEN EGAN SAID, six months ago, that it was just the beginning, he was right about that. What followed could be charitably described as an organizational shakeup but I prefer the term "complete chaos".
Both Egan's and my perfectionist tendencies were put to the test as we got massive structural work done on the Platinum Star, turning it into a hostel for dissidents in trouble. The third floor, once a sparse open office landscape, is now divided into a set of four comfortable apartments with a shared kitchen, dining, and bathroom area. Natasha's little storeroom is now a prayer room—a restful spot for people of any religion, including none, to just peace out in. Currently we have three "residents" as we call them—Natasha, Farhid and Raed. We're very fussy about who to save. So far, it's only people with a high risk of persecution with no dependents and we favor those who have been brave in standing up to oppression. We'll get less fussy as time goes on and our operation expands.
My job is chief housekeeper which entails a lot—running everything. Martha is on board too, so our CleaningBees has been subsumed by the Bitcoin group. We gave up cleaning down in the hospital. But the week she announced our departure, Dr. James asked her on a date. She's been dating William ever since, and they're going strong. Martha's not officially in the Bitcoin group, but we all trust her not to mention anything about our real business behind the financial services façade.
Cara, Felix's wife, who's a kickass private detective, joined the fray soon after I did. Much to my delight, she took me under her wing and she gave a crash course in both cyber security and self-defense. I'm still in awe of the raven-haired superwoman, and by the looks of it, her husband is too. Such a striking couple, and so much fun to be around, whenever they come visit from Vegas to London.
Today, I'm waiting for Egan to return from a meeting with the authorities in the passport office. He went there with Natasha, passing her off as a British-born heiress of a Russian oligarch who wants to get her passport for the first time so she can travel before her university term starts. We dressed her in preppy designer gear and she so looks the part.
The new signaling system lights up. They're down below. I rush down the stairs. We still avoid the elevators, but now it's out of tradition rather than need.
"Did it work?"
Natasha's smiling face says it all. She holds up her passport.
I shake my head. "Give them out to anyone, that lot would."
"Anyone with money," she says.
"Yeah, well don't get too used to your Ralph Lauren gear. You're a student now and you're going to have to work hard and wear rags and go barefoot in the snow."
"Give her a break, Mommy," Egan says, chuckling.
I grin. "Well, I suppose this does call for a celebration."
Egan and Natasha share a look then she bounds up to her room leaving us alone. I'm always happy when people leave me and Egan alone. I wish it happened more often. But I know I'll be horribly sad when she leaves us, this time for good.
Egan approaches me. "Come. We have to talk."
Oh no, something's wrong. Something he can't bear to tell Natasha.
I grab the nearest chair and sit on it. "What is it? Just tell me!"
"I—" Egan looks down. "God. This is...look, Jess, I promised myself I'd wait until this day, and it's taken longer than expected." He lets out a brief laugh. "But we're here now and, and.."
I feel my eyebrows rise higher and higher on my forehead.
"And I'm just going to do it. Because it can't wait another day." He reaches out and grasps my hands, pulling me up to standing. "Jess, since you walked into my life with your drop-dead gorgeous looks, your sassy attitude, and your damn cleaning trolley, I've been smitten by you, and day by day, it's only gotten deeper."
He pauses, and I'm blinking at him dumbly.
"You're the only woman I know—the only person—who faces me head on, no holds barred, and who makes me want to stop the world so I can make it better for you. You gave me the space that allowed sides of me that I thought were lost forever to come out—my playful side, yes even my irresponsible side. And I hope I created a space for you, to blossom in and feel the best version of yourself in. Because that's all I want for you. If you think we can make it together, please let us build a meaningful life toget
her, whatever we decide that will be. And please marry me."
By this stage I'm shaking. I was not expecting this. I'm afraid if I open my mouth something awkward and silly will pop out that I'll regret for the rest of my life. I've never been so put on the spot like this.
"Um, will I marry you? "I repeat. Then I cringe. I'm already doing it. "Yes, damn it, yes! I mean...ohmygod yes! Of course, what a stupid question!" I fling my arms around his neck. He's not saying anything but his eyes are smoldering.
When I come to my senses I say, "You gave me space too, Egan, to be my bossy self without fear of recrimination and to be vulnerable without fear of being laughed at. You struck that balance, making me feel secure and yet at the same time, giddy as a teenager. I love you for that. I love you for the way you want to make the world a better place and I love you that you're not perfect because that would be totally unbearable."
He smiles. "Totally. In fact, right now I feel an urge to be very bad indeed." His hands slip down my back and cup my ass.
I splay my palms against his chest. "How bad are we talking? Better still, show me."
And just as our breaths get deeper, his phone starts bleeping.
"For fuck's sake," he mutters. He pulls out his phone from his pocket. "It's Sean."
"Just answer it," I say, reluctantly removing my hands from his chest.
"Here, I'm putting him on speaker. Probably more logistics stuff you need to know anyway. He's back from Thailand tonight."
"Egan, we got a problem." The line is crackly and Sean's voice is strained.
