by Devney Perry
“I can see why you’d need a change,” Bryce said.
“You might be the only one. Well, you and my parents. They are thrilled with my decision to change careers.” When I’d called to tell them the news this morning, my dad had cheered and my mom had started crying. They were thrilled I was quitting the job that had put my life in danger.
The six months I’d spent in hiding had been horrible for my parents. My dad had gotten another ulcer and my mom had worn a path in their new carpet from pacing. After I’d gotten back to the city and arranged for my life to be turned back on, I’d spent three weeks in Florida, then gone back again for the holidays. It had been the best time I’d spent with my family in decades and we’d found a new closeness.
My brothers both texted me daily and I talked to my parents at least four times a week. They were planning on visiting Seattle this summer and I had already booked a vacation to go home in the fall.
Our new-formed bond was the one amazing thing to come out of this entire Federov disaster. That and my brief time with Beau. Even though I was in pain, I’d never regret being with him.
Bryce and I chatted for a little while longer about her job and some of the interviews she’d done lately. Then, after we’d finished our drinks, we exchanged phone numbers. Selfishly, I hoped she’d stay in Seattle and not move home to Montana. She’d be a great friend.
“Whether you stay with television or move to Clifton Forge’s paper, you will be incredibly successful.” I shook her hand good-bye. “You are one easy person to talk to, Bryce Ryan.”
She blushed and her face broke into a wide, white smile. “Coming from you, that’s the best compliment I may have ever gotten.”
I waved as she pushed through the door and disappeared into the crowd on the sidewalk.
“Ready?” I asked Henry.
“You bet.” He smiled and led me outside, escorting me home.
Henry was the reason I even had a home. While I’d been in Montana, he had arranged for my bills to be paused and my rent to be paid. He’d gone above the normal call of duty and I’d always be grateful.
“Did you have a nice time?” he asked.
“I did. It was nice to make a new friend.”
“Good.”
“Speaking of friends, I was thinking of going back to Prescott after Felicity’s baby is born. Any objections?”
He shook his head. “Do you know when?”
“She isn’t due until the end of the month and I want to give her a chance to settle in before I invade. So maybe the end of June?”
“Okay. I’ll try and go with you, but if I can’t, I’ll make sure you’re covered.”
“Do you think I’ll even need an agent with me by then?” The Federovs were scheduled to be sentenced next week, and by the time June rolled around, there might not be any danger left to worry about.
“I’d rather plan to go with you, just in case.”
“Okay.”
Maybe if Henry came with me, he’d act as a buffer between me and Beau. I was certain our reunion would be awkward—if I even saw him. I assumed that if I were in Montana he’d want to see me, but what if he didn’t? A wave of nervous energy rushed to my stomach.
“Do you still want dinner?” Henry asked.
“Sure.” I wasn’t hungry anymore, but if I didn’t get something in my system, I’d have a wicked wine hangover in the morning. I wasn’t drunk but two glasses were just enough to punish me the next day.
“How about we get you home and I’ll go pick up a pizza?”
“Perfect.”
We walked the rest of the way to my apartment building in silence. Normally, I’d spend a few minutes visiting with my doorman but my feet hurt so badly that I only said a quick hello and went straight to the elevator, pushing the button for the fifth floor.
The doors opened with a ding and Henry grumbled something under his breath before stepping into the hallway.
“Mitchell.” Henry’s angry snap sent the young agent’s head flying up and his hands fumbling his phone into his jacket pocket.
“Agent Dalton.” Mitchell stood from his brown metal folding chair, nervously smoothing out his wrinkled suit.
“Haven’t we discussed cell-phone usage when you’re on duty?” Henry asked.
Mitchell nodded frantically. “Sorry, it was my girlfriend. She’s pregnant and I just—”
“Don’t let it happen again. Remember why you’re here.”
“Sure. No problem, Agent Dalton.”
“And shouldn’t you be down by the stairwell?”
“Shit. I mean, right! Sorry, Ms. MacKenzie.”
I nodded and fought a smile.
Mitchell fumbled to fold up the chair. “I just wanted to sit down.”
“Then take the chair down there.” Henry pointed down the hall.
“Right, right.” Mitchell picked up his chair and rushed down the hallway toward the emergency exit sign.
The only way to get to my apartment was from either the elevator or the back stairs. To get on the elevator, you had to pass my doorman and have a key. To come up the stairs, all you needed was a key card. Though the stairwell door was under video surveillance, Henry had deemed it the weakest point in the building, so I’d had a guard by my door for seven months.
“He’s terrified of you,” I whispered as we followed Agent Mitchell, who walked at warp speed ahead of us.
Henry sighed. “He’s not even supposed to be here but I was short on options. We had a break in another case and I needed my full team to wrap it up. So I had to pull him from desk duty. He’s been on probation since he was too busy on that fucking phone to pay attention during surveillance.”
Could Agent Mitchell be the reason why Ivan Federov had been able to visit Montana last summer? Or had he dropped the ball on some other surveillance assignment? I didn’t ask; instead, I frowned when I realized I’d been burdening Henry and taking his focus these last two weeks.
“Henry, if you had another big case, why did you insist on going on my press tour? I would have been fine with another agent.”
“I wanted to go with you.” He took the keys from my hand and unlocked my door. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”
I followed him inside my apartment, still feeling guilty. “I’m so sorry. I should have stayed in Prescott longer.” At least there, I wouldn’t have kept FBI agents from solving other crimes.
“No, it was time for you to get out of there. I’m really glad you’re back.” He stepped into my space and looked down at me with soft eyes. His chest was just inches away from mine and I didn’t breathe for fear they would touch.
What was he doing? Was he making a move on me?
My heart started to race but not with excitement or attraction. This was panic. I wasn’t ready for someone new. As it was, I was barely hanging on to the pieces of my shattered heart. I couldn’t fathom any other man taking Beau’s place. Not now. Maybe not ever.
When Henry’s face started to descend toward mine, I unfroze and stepped back, bumping against the small table by my door. “Henry, I . . .”
His entire frame deflated and his eyes dropped to his feet. “It’s okay.”
Fuck. I had been so consumed with my own emotions I hadn’t been paying attention to Henry’s. How had I missed this? “I am so, so sorry.”
He looked up and gave me a sad smile. “It’s my fault. You seemed more like your old self today. Going out for drinks with a friend. Planning a trip back to Montana. I thought maybe you were moving on.”
I shook my head but didn’t speak. There wasn’t anything to say.
“Can we forget this happened?” he asked.
“Okay.”
“I’ll get that pizza.” He turned and opened the door. “Do you want me to pick you up more wine?”
“No, thank you. I have some.”
His smile was forced. “Be back soon. Lock this behind me.”
I nodded and closed the door, sagging against its surface as I turned the l
ock.
When my heart rate returned to noncritical levels, I kicked off my white shoes and let the cool marble tile soothe my aching soles.
Damn it. No matter how much we both pretended like that moment hadn’t happened, things between Henry and me were bound to get awkward. Maybe he’d have his other agents take over Sabrina duty for a while, and after some space, we’d get back to our easy friendship.
I hoped so. While Henry would never be a love interest, I still wanted him as a friend.
Forcing my feet to move, I walked further into my apartment. My cleaning crew had been in today and there was a light citrus scent in the air. Though I was still considering downsizing, I did love this space.
The walls were a soft gray, just a shade lighter than the white trim. Other than the tiled entryway, the rest of the apartment had espresso hardwood floors. I had decorated with light and muted tones to offset the dark walnut doors and cabinets.
The hall that extended from the entryway split the place in half. On the right were my office and a wide, sunken living room. On the left were my master suite and the kitchen. The U-shaped kitchen was at the back of the apartment, separated from the living room by a tall island and barstools.
Tossing my purse onto a couch, I yawned and turned to the kitchen.
My heart jumped into my throat and I gasped. A nightmare stood across from me.
Anton.
He was leaning against the stove on the other side of the island, a hand tucked casually in a pocket. He stood in just the right spot, hidden by the hallway that led to my bedroom, so that the only way to see him was by being completely inside the apartment. Since I had been looking out the floor-to-ceiling living-room windows when I’d walked in, I’d been oblivious to his presence.
“Hello, Sabrina.” His voice sent chills down my spine.
I took one step toward the door but stopped when he snapped straight and held out a gun. “Ah, ah, ah. Don’t go running away from me again. We’ve got some things to talk about, kitten.”
I shuddered at his pet name. He’d called me that for months, usually when we were in bed and I was faking an orgasm.
He pushed off the stove and walked to the side of the island, casually propping himself against its edge and setting the gun on its granite top. He was dressed in black slacks and a gray button-down shirt. His ink-black hair was styled perfectly, giving him the deceptive appearance of a normal, handsome man, but his cunning black eyes betrayed him.
“Aren’t you going to say hello?” It wasn’t a request.
I cringed. “Hello, Anton.”
I wanted to scream, to run for my life, but it wouldn’t get me anywhere. Even if I shouted for Agent Mitchell, Anton would shoot me before I could be rescued. My feet stayed firmly on the floor as fear coursed through my veins. There would be no flight, and I wouldn’t survive a fight.
But at least I wouldn’t be going alone.
“They’ll kill you, Anton. The second the FBI comes through that door, you’re dead.”
He took a step away from the counter and spat, “Bitch, I’m already dead because of you.”
I shuffled backward but had nowhere to go. Only a miracle would save me now, and since I’d already had one of those where Anton was concerned, I didn’t think I’d be granted another.
My death would wreck my parents and brothers. Felicity would be destroyed. And Beau? He’d think he’d failed me.
A numbness settled into my skin. Maybe it was from fear. Maybe it was from sheer hopelessness.
“What do you want, Anton? To take your revenge on me, then go out guns blazing?” My cool voice shocked Anton and he eyed me suspiciously.
“Something like that.”
I stood firm in my spot as I braced for his approach. Just because I didn’t expect to survive a fight didn’t mean I wasn’t going to try. My bear spray was tucked away in my purse, too far away to grab, but Beau had given me another weapon.
Me.
I was no match for Anton’s size and strength, and he’d likely overpower me, but I’d use every self-defense move Beau had taught me and fight to my death. All I wanted was to inflict just a little pain on this fucking asshole before he killed me.
That momentary numbness was going away. Burning rage was bringing me back to life.
My spine straightened and my eyes challenged Anton to do his worst. Maybe this confidence was stupid. Maybe he’d go for the gun and I wouldn’t get the chance to fight back. But I was betting on Anton’s ego winning out. He had underestimated me once. Maybe I’d get lucky and he’d do it again.
He wasn’t just here to shoot me quickly and spit on my dead body. He could have done that already. No, he was here to do what he’d started last year but hadn’t gotten to finish.
Beat me, rape me, then choke the life out of me.
Anton stood taller, trying to intimidate me, but I didn’t cower. Instead I held his eyes in silence, daring him to make his move.
I was ready when he lunged for me, his hands reaching right for my throat. Just like Beau had taught me, I sidestepped and thrust a knee into his groin.
He grunted and doubled over as I tried to get a lock on his elbow but my hands were too slippery with sweat. When I tried to bend back his wrist, I lost my grip and he squirmed free. The shock of my attack quickly wore off and Anton turned, preparing to lunge for me again.
I took my opening and kicked out hard at his knee, not doing any damage, but the force of the blow was enough to make it bend, and Anton dropped to the floor.
With Anton down, I had a split second of freedom to scramble for his gun on the counter. The second my palm hit the cool black metal, Anton’s fist reached out and grabbed my hair.
As he jerked me backward, Beau’s words echoed in my mind.
Safety. Hammer. Trigger.
I twisted in Anton’s grip, pain radiating through my scalp.
Bang.
Twenty. Twenty-one. Twenty-two.
Blink.
I was sitting in a living room chair that I had turned backward toward my windows. With my legs tucked under my rear, I stared into the dark city, counting how many seconds I could go without blinking.
I’d done my best to become invisible, and over the last six hours, most of the people in my apartment had forgotten I was sitting here. Behind me, a team of investigators was talking in hushed voices while others snapped countless pictures of the crime scene. An hour ago, the coroner had zippered Anton’s body in a bag and loaded it onto a squeaky cart that would wheel him to the morgue.
Through it all, my eyes stayed glued to the windows. Even though I was trying to block out conversation, my ears were still active and I listened to a couple of newcomers get an update.
“Are we taking her down to the station?”
“No. Agent Dalton says she stays here.”
“Has she been questioned?”
“I don’t know. I only got here a couple of hours ago.”
One man pushed out a loud breath. “That’s a lot of blood.”
“No shit. Bullet straight to the heart at close range. That fucker was dead before he hit the floor.”
A chill crept down my spine.
I killed a person today.
I had taken a life.
One tear slid down my cheek but I quickly swiped it away. I couldn’t cry. I wouldn’t cry. Not yet.
Somehow, I had managed to keep it together as I stood over Anton’s lifeless body with a gun in my hand. When Agent Mitchell had broken through my door, his gun drawn for an already neutralized threat, somehow I hadn’t panicked. And somehow, I hadn’t cracked when agents had photographed my white clothes streaked with blood before leaving me in my bathroom to strip them off into a plastic evidence bag.
Somehow, I was keeping it together. And I would keep keeping it together.
My breakdown would have to wait because Henry still had to take my official statement. He’d gotten a high-level recap earlier but then had to leave, promising to come back soon to go
through everything again in detail.
Ignoring the men behind me, I went back to counting and staring until the mood in the room tensed.
“Have you finished processing the scene?” Henry demanded behind me.
“Uh, not yet.”
“Finish,” he ordered. “Now.” Shoes scuffled as people scurried. Henry came and crouched next to my chair, patting one of my knees. “How are you doing?”
I shrugged and unglued my eyes from the windows to look at his face. His forehead was creased with worry and his eyes were pleading for forgiveness.
“I’m so sorry, Sabrina.”
I shook my head. “It’s not your fault.” I didn’t blame Henry for any of this. If he had come inside and not gone out for pizza, Anton would have shot him. I was glad he hadn’t been here.
“It is my fault.”
I didn’t have the energy to convince him otherwise so I turned back to the window.
He sighed. “I’ve got to talk to a few people and then I’ll be back to get your official statement.”
“Okay.”
“Sorry, it’s going to take a while longer tonight.”
“It’s fine.” At least he’d arranged for me to stay here instead of taking me to a police station for questioning.
He patted my knee again and stood while I went back to staring. The sound of more clicking cameras filled the room, and I closed my eyes, resting my head against the back of the chair. A headache was coming on strong.
I stayed quiet, listening to the activity behind me and trying to rest my eyes while I lost all track of time.
A commotion in the outside hallway caught my attention but I kept my eyes closed.
“You can’t go in there. Sir! Stop! This is a crime scene! You can’t—”
“What’s going on out here?” Henry said, intervening.
“Where is she?”
My eyes flew open. I knew that deep voice.
I held my breath and waited, listening as heavy footsteps grew louder. When Beau knelt down in front of me, a sob escaped my throat. His big hands slid around my waist and he pulled me out of the chair, right into his lap on the floor. My arms clutched his shoulders and I buried my face in his neck, inhaling the smell that I had missed so much.
