Nathan Blanchet started laughing.
“I knew I recognized you when I met you here,” he said, shaking his head. “Of course.”
“Shut up,” I growled.
“How has life been? I’m sorry about sending your parents away.”
“You’re not sorry about anything,” I snapped.
“No, you’re right,” he said slowly.
“You sent them back to their deaths, you fucking prick. You deported two US citizens who had been your loyal employees for twenty years. You knew that they’d be in danger when they went back, and you did it anyway. They were dead within a month.”
Sadie gasped, and Nathan just laughed.
“Yeah, and if I had the choice, I would have sent you back, too. Unfortunately, your fucking sorry ass was born in this country.” He snorted. “Call yourself an American?”
He shook his head and anger flared in my chest.
“I’m more American than you, you corrupt piece of shit.” My whole body burned. I was vibrating with rage. Nathan Blanchet laughed, and the fury inside me grew.
Sadie shifted, taking a step towards me. I couldn’t look at her. I couldn’t face her.
I wasn’t the man she thought I was. I was bitter. I was empty. I was a killer.
Nothing more.
I didn’t deserve her.
She should be with a man who wasn’t broken like me. I couldn’t be healed. I couldn’t be helped. Her father had seen to that.
Sadie took another step towards me.
“Zane,” she whispered. “If you kill him, you’ll turn into him.”
I took a deep, rasping breath. Nathan Blanchet grinned. Ivanov shifted in his seat, and Sadie shoved her gun towards him. He froze.
Sadie sighed. “Zane, don’t choose hate. Choose love.” She spoke softly, calmly. She spoke as if we weren’t pointing guns at these corrupt, colluding criminals. She spoke as if we were tangled in the bedsheets together, just the two of us in our oasis.
“Choose love, Zane,” she repeated. “Choose me.”
Her words shook something loose in my chest. A sense of calm washed over me, and I lowered my weapon. I nodded and looked at her for the first time all evening.
Her eyes were shining with tears, and she was staring at me with all the power of her love. I felt it light a bolt of lightning. Life jolted into me, and I finally understood that she was right.
I didn’t deserve her, but she still chose me. She saved me from myself, from hatred, from despair. She lifted me up above the battle in my heart and showed me what it meant to be righteous.
Sadie had already forgiven her father. She’d already forgiven Thomas, and Ivanov, and all of them.
She’d forgiven me for pointing a gun at her father.
She spread love and forgiveness over everything that she touched, healing me in an instant. I didn’t need revenge. I didn’t need hate.
I chose love.
I chose her.
Seconds ticked by as these realizations filled my soul, and a smile spread itself across my face. I nodded to her as tears flowed down her cheeks.
“Okay,” I said softly. She smiled so wide it felt like the sun was shining on me. My heart beat for her, and my entire spirit smiled back at her.
And then, everything came crashing down.
A gunshot sounded, Thomas Balmoral screamed, and I spun around just in time to see Grigory’s hand raised across his body before the butt of his gun connected with my cheekbone.
Pain erupted across my face. I tasted blood as my vision went black, and I crashed into the coffee table on my way down.
When my other cheekbone hit the edge of it, I lost consciousness.
* * *
I woke up when my body hit cold asphalt with a thud. I groaned.
“Up.” Ivanov’s voice sounded far away, like he was speaking underwater. My eyes were sealed shut with my own sticky blood, and everything from the shoulders up was in pain.
“Let go of me!” Sadie’s voice shook me awake, and I was suddenly alert. I tried to wipe my eyes, but my hands were bound behind my back. I rubbed my eye on my shoulder and forced it open just as Grigory’s hand pulled me upright.
Wavering on my feet, I glanced around.
I was flanked by the two Russians we had incapacitated outside Ivanov’s house. They must have woken up before the rest of the Special Activities Division force made it to us. Sadie, Balmoral, Ivanov, and Senator Blanchet were standing a few feet away from me, with two more Russian thugs.
I turned towards the car behind me as my heart started to thump. Every pulse sent more shooting pain through my head, and I tried to get my vocal chords to work.
“Chris,” I croaked. “Where’s Chris.”
“Zane,” Sadie said softly. I met her eyes, and I saw such deep sadness that I had to look away. “They shot him, Zane,” she said. Then, Ivanov nodded to one of the thugs and he smacked her across the face to quiet her.
A surge of rage came over me. Ivanov saw it, and he grinned. Grigory’s arm held me like a vice.
“Deniska,” he tsk’ed. “Of all people, I thought you were smarter than this.”
“Fuck you, Ivanov.”
He just laughed, and then turned to Balmoral. “Where is the product?”
“Over here.” Balmoral pointed to a large container. We were at a port. I glanced around, frowning. I could see large cranes, and rows and rows of shipping containers. DC didn’t have a shipping port—how long had I been unconscious? We must have driven all the way to Baltimore.
One of the Russians swung the big handle on the container and it squeaked as it opened. Grigory pushed me forward, and I wavered on my feet. I wanted to break free from the ropes tying my wrists. I wanted to smash Grigory’s face in, and then grab his gun and shoot the fucking lot of them.
But right now, I could hardly stand without feeling like my head was going to explode. I took a faltering step forward as Grigory pushed me on.
One of the other Russians took a crowbar and opened one of the crates in the containers. He brushed away some packaging sawdust and Ivanov started laughing. He pulled out a pistol that looked a lot like a Smith & Wesson, admiring the craftsmanship.
“Very nice, Mr. Balmoral,” he said, turning the weapon over with an expert eye. “I’m impressed.”
“As I mentioned in the car, we are able to supply you with semi-automatic and automatic weapons, ammunition, and anything else in our catalogue. Our turnaround time is about ten hours per weapon, and we have a plant capable of producing between one and three hundred firearms per day.”
Ivanov laughed, throwing his head back. His shoulders shook and his teeth gleamed, and finally he looked at me.
“What do you think, Deniska?” His term of endearment made my skin crawl. Ivanov took the pistol and pointed at me. His finger slipped over the trigger, and my heart started to thump. He pointed it at my chest, his hand steady.
And then he pulled the trigger.
The gun clicked. I knew it wouldn’t be loaded—why would they ship it loaded? But still, relief poured over me. Sadie let out a squeak, and I looked at her to try to give her some strength.
Mikhail Ivanov grinned.
“Feels very nice, Mr. Balmoral. We’re in business.”
“Consider this shipment a gift, to show my goodwill. Our working relationship has been off to a bit of a rocky start.”
“You’ll never get away with this,” I growled.
Ivanov nodded to the Russians flanking me, and they dragged me away from the container. I tried to wriggle free, but I was too weak, and they were too strong. My head pounded and I tripped over my own feet.
Maybe my head injury was more severe than I realized. I looked to Sadie, who was being carried over one of the Russian’s shoulders. We were heading for the water.
Fear curled in my stomach, and I met Sadie’s eye.
She looked so scared, and I hated myself.
I shouldn’t have brought her to my house. I should have p
rotected her. I should have kept her away from all this.
It was enough to realize that her father was corrupt, and her fiancé was a piece of shit. She didn’t deserve to die.
Ivanov and Balmoral followed us to the water.
“Kneel.” He commanded. I looked over my shoulder and scanned around us for something—anything that could help me.
There was nothing.
Just a concrete pier and steel containers. What a desolate, horrible place to die.
I’d die here—I didn’t care. But not Sadie. She was too beautiful for this place. Too good to die at the hands of someone like Ivanov.
“Kneel,” he said again, nodding to the edge of the concrete pier. The water was black below us. I shuffled over to stand next to Sadie, with her father on the other side of me. She leaned into me as we knelt down. She was trembling.
“I’m scared,” she whispered.
“Me too.”
Her eyes found mine, green and bright and good. Her gaze softened and a smile stretched over her lips.
“Thank you, Zane. You made the past couple weeks of my life brighter than any other time. You did so much for me, and I can never—”
“Don’t talk like that, Sadie,” I choked. It sounded like she was saying goodbye.
I heard Ivanov clear his throat behind me, and I looked over my shoulder to see one of his henchmen hand him a gun. He checked it briefly, and then met my eye.
“Any final words, Mister Wolfe?”
“Yeah: fuck you.” I spat in his direction, and he just smiled. He lifted the gun, and I looked right at him. I wouldn’t give him the pleasure of shooting me in the back. He’d have to see my eyes while he did it.
He lifted the gun towards me, and his eyes went hard. A smile twitched over his lips—one that I only saw when he was inflicting pain on someone else. He squared his shoulders… and then swung the gun towards Sadie.
“For your betrayal, Mister Wolfe, you’ll be the last to die.”
“No!”
My screamed ripped through my throat as a gunshot rang out. I launched myself across Sadie, shielding her body with mine. I tackled her against the concrete, and I waited for the bullet to hit. I knew Ivanov had shot, and I prayed it pierced my body and not hers. We landed with a thud, and I winced, covering Sadie’s body with mine. My hands were still tied behind my back and I knew I tackled her hard.
I waited for the blinding, hot pain of a gunshot wound in my back.
I waited.
And waited.
And waited.
When my ears stopped ringing, I heard shouting and panicked yells. I had landed facing the other way, and rolled off Sadie.
“Are you okay?”
She nodded, her eyes wide. Her cheek was scraped where she’d hit the concrete, but she was just looking over my shoulder.
I rolled over to see Ivanov and his men on the ground. Ivanov’s eyes were glassy, with a big pool of blood spreading out from under him. His men were being wrestled into handcuffs by CIA field agents, as Berk shouted out orders. I saw Balmoral being stuffed into the back of a car.
Berk jogged towards me, slipped a knife out of his belt and sliced my hands free. I grunted, bringing my wrists forward and rubbing them before wrapping my arms around Sadie. Berkeley was talking to me, but I didn’t hear a word.
I just held her as we both trembled and cried into each other.
After a couple minutes, we unlatched our arms from around each other and looked at the carnage.
Her father was being cuffed along with Balmoral and the rest of the Russians. Ivanov was dead.
Sadie was alive. I was alive.
It was done. I helped Sadie to her feet and held her close. Berkeley nodded at me.
“Chris?” I asked.
“He’ll be okay. Bullet went right through, missed all the vital organs.”
I sighed, nodding.
Berk grinned at me. “I guess I should thank you for actually wearing your wire for once in your miserable life. We would never have found you if we hadn’t had ears on you the whole time. We wouldn’t have gotten Blanchet, Ivanov, and Balmoral in the same room as the guns if you hadn’t bulldozed your way into that living room, either.”
My eyes widened, and I remembered the microphone that Chris had insisted I wear before barging into Ivanov’s living room. I’d forgotten about it—my rage and adrenaline had been so intense that I hadn’t given it a second thought.
Berk put his hand on my shoulder and nodded. He glanced at Sadie and took a deep breath.
“We’ll need to debrief both of you.”
“Yeah,” I said. “in a minute.”
Berkeley stared at me for a long moment, and then walked back towards the chaos behind us.
I turned to Sadie. She was shaking, and she snaked her arms around my back. Tears started streaming down her face and she buried it in my chest. She curled my fingers into my shirt and took a deep, calming breath.
“Thank you, Zane,” she whispered.
“For what?”
“For not shooting my father when you had a chance. For jumping in front of a bullet for me. For everything.”
My eyebrows drew together and I inhaled sharply. “I wanted to shoot your father,” I admitted. “Really, really badly.”
“I know.”
A tear spilled out of my eye, and Sadie brushed it away. She had no idea how badly I wanted to shoot, how badly I wanted to kill. Fifteen years of imagining that moment, and I couldn’t pull the trigger.
No—it’s not that I couldn’t pull the trigger, it’s that I chose not to.
Pulling that trigger would have ruined me.
Sadie knew that, and she saved me. Even now, with my injuries pulsing with pain, the power of her tenderness was healing me.
I caught her fingers in my hand and brought them to my lips. Officers streamed around us and shouted orders, but I ignored them. Right now, we were alone. Sadie and I existed in our own world together, and I knew that nothing mattered more than her. There was a hurricane of commotion around us, but we were in the eye of the storm, and we were completely calm.
“If it weren’t for you, I would have killed him,” I whispered as I leaned my forehead against hers. “I’d dreamt of it for years.”
Tears streamed down Sadie’s cheeks, and she held onto me as if I was her lifeline.
“You changed me, Sadie.” I held her close. My savior. My salvation. My love. “You made me realize that it’s not worth it. You taught me how to forgive.”
Sadie nodded, looking into my eyes. I cupped her cheek.
“You taught me how to love.”
Sadie flashed me a teary smile. “Did you just say the ‘L’ word?”
“I did.”
“I wasn’t sure you believed in love.”
“I didn’t.”
“But now you do?”
I growled, squeezing her closer to me. “Yes, Sadie. I believe in love. I believe in you. I love you—everything about you.”
Her heart thumped and a smile broke across her face.
Her life was in shambles, and so was mine. Her father would go to prison and her mother would be devastated. I would have to report to Berk, who might kick me out of the Agency for defying orders and acting how I did tonight. Sadie’s engagement was off, and her reputation would be ruined.
But none of that mattered. We were freer than we’d ever been. She was free of her parents and their expectations, free from the prison they’d built for her.
And I was free from the hatred that had consumed me for my entire adult life. I was free from the bitterness and the vengefulness. I was free to grow, and live, and love.
I pressed my lips to Sadie’s and held onto her as the hurricane continued around us.
In the eye of the storm, the only thing that mattered was clear: Sadie, and me, and our love.
Epilogue - Sadie
Four years later…
It wasn’t the graduation that I’d anticipated, but it was a thous
and times better than I could have imagined. I walked across the stage and accepted my diploma of Veterinary Sciences. I found Zane in the crowd, who clapped up a storm in the crowd beside my beaming mother.
I shook the dean’s hand and posed for a photo, one hand shaking his and the other resting on my two-months-pregnant stomach. I wasn’t showing yet, but I could feel that the baby was there
After the ceremony, I found Zane, Mags, Harry, and my mother and was engulfed in a massive hug. Zane picked me up and twirled me around, and then set me down gently and put his hands on my stomach.
“You should be very proud of your mother, Zane Jr.,” he said, kissing the top of my belly. “She’s smarter than anyone I’ve ever met.”
“How do you know it’s a boy?” I laughed. It would be a few weeks before we found out our baby’s gender, but Zane was convinced it was a boy. I wasn’t so sure, but we’d have to wait to find out.
He put his arm around my shoulders and kissed my temple. Mags wrapped me in a hug.
“I’m so proud of you, Sadie,” she said, squeezing me close. “You look so much happier.”
My mother smiled. “You look even more beautiful than you did on your wedding day.” She hugged me, smiling. She didn’t smile as much these days, and often her smiles wouldn’t reach her eyes. Ever since my father got put in prison, my mother had changed.
But now, she smiled. She looked like the mother I’d grown up with: proud and beautiful. I hoped that I’d be able to do her proud as a mother myself, and I hoped that Zane would be a better father than mine was.
I knew he would be. He was a better man than anyone else I’d ever met. He hadn’t left my side since that day at the Russian’s house. He left the CIA immediately, and we’d healed from the whole ordeal together.
We’d been inseparable, and it hadn’t taken very long for us to tie the knot. I was head over heels in love with him, and I couldn’t imagine my life without him. I didn’t want to imagine my life without him.
Now, I was graduated. Zane was working as a private investigator. I would start working as a vet and when the baby came, the two of us would work part time and share the responsibility.
We celebrated together for dinner, and then Zane must have seen the tiredness lining my eyes. He stood up and put his arm around my shoulder.
The Protector: The Complete C.I.A Romance Series Page 17
