A groan from the ground had him moving quickly to Cynthia’s side. He grabbed some zip ties from one of the pockets in his cargo pants and quickly slipped them around her hands and feet—she wasn’t moving anytime soon.
“Stay right there, Cynthia. It’s over.”
She groaned again, but didn’t say anything, as if she accepted her fate. It couldn’t be that easy, not after everything she’d done. The woman was hurting, though, and maybe that was keeping her quiet more than anything else.
He went back to Steff’s side and held her in his arms, closing his eyes in relief that this beautiful woman was safe with him again.
“I’m so sorry,” he murmured against her cheek. “So sorry I wasn’t there to keep you safe.”
“It’s not your fault. You gave me everything to keep me safe. Problem was, Cynthia had them too. I’ve found out today that she’s a calculating bitch, and not the person I thought she was at all.”
“Did she hurt you?” He swallowed, needing to ask the next question even though he didn’t want to. “Did anyone hurt you?”
“No. No one touched me. I’m okay.”
“Thank god.” He leaned back and brushed his fingers against her cheek. Her skin smooth and familiar. “I love you, Steffanie Price, so damn much. I can’t live without you.”
He’d promised himself the minute he saw her he’d tell her how he felt. That he wouldn’t waste any more opportunities to do so. It was probably overwhelming for her, and if she didn’t say it back, he would be totally fine with it.
If she needed more time to grow to love him, he’d give her all the time she needed.
“You love me?” Her voice trembled, and tears filled her eyes.
“I do. So much.”
“I love you too, Dalton. I don’t ever want you to let me go.”
His lips found hers, and he poured all the love he felt for her into it. He held her like she was the most precious gem in the world. Because to him, she was. He was being a sap, but he didn’t care.
This woman was his.
And he was hers.
He broke the kiss, aware that there was still a lot to do, and there would be time later, for them to be alone, and he could do more than kiss her. “I love you,” he said again. “I should’ve said it sooner, and I’m going to keep saying it.”
Steff laughed, and he relished the happy sound. “I should’ve said it to you sooner, too. But no regrets now, Dalton. We look forward. Always forward.”
“Yes. Forward.”
His lips found hers again, and they only broke apart when footsteps sounded behind him. He wasn’t worried if it was one of the bad guys coming for them. They hadn’t stood a chance against them. It would be one of his teammates; he only hoped it wasn’t Fox. His friend was going to find it hard to see the woman he’d fallen for restrained on the ground.
Once again, keeping Steff pressed to his side, he turned and found Ox standing in the doorway.
“Everyone is accounted for. Authorities will be here shortly,” his boss announced. “All good?”
Jag knew what his boss was eluding too. “Yep, all good.”
“Excellent. Chopper’s ready if you want to get out of here.”
“What about talking to the police?” As much as he wanted Steff away from Cynthia and the cabin, he was also aware that she would need to answer questions and give the police a complete rundown of what happened. He would rather they get it over with than go back to his place, only to have to leave again so they could deal with the formalities.
“Julian called, he said the Feds have authority over the situation now, seeing as it seems Viktor Koznovic and Cynthia were well acquainted. He’s going to head to the office and will meet you there. He figured asking Steff questions there was better than taking her in. It’s not exactly by the book, but if Julian suggested it, then I figure it’s all good.”
Dealing with the questioning in the comfort of Alliez’s offices was much better than a cold interrogation room in the federal building. He turned to Steff. “Okay. Are you okay with this? If you’re not, we can put it off until tomorrow.”
“Dalton,” Steff’s hand wrapped around his forearm. “I don’t need coddling. I’d rather talk while it’s fresh in my mind.”
“Right, we’ll do that then.” Jag canted his head to where Cynthia now lay on her back, staring daggers at them all. “What about her?”
