“Take it, little girl? I will destroy your fucking Wolf.”
Something shrivels beneath my breastbone. I tap a button, ending the call. I go back to the texts we exchanged, and I type.
Ready to sell your soul for a fortune made of light?
Logging into my secure home network, I send him the software in one neat, easy packet.
There’s no way I’ll ever fall back to sleep in this motel room.
Wrapped in the sheet, I lie on the bed for an hour or two. Three times, I pick up my mobile to see how Tarasov is using Viktor. I can monitor him through my network, every keystroke, every shovel of earth he digs for his own grave.
At 5:00, I slip out of bed. I pull on my clothes carefully, like I’m donning protective gear in a laboratory.
At 5:30, I splash water on my face. I rub a finger across my teeth and pretend they’re clean.
At 6:00, I decide it’s late enough to call for a ride. I can go to the airport and hire a car. I can be home by ten.
I tap the app, and the marker starts to spin, searching for an available driver. Suddenly, I can’t stand another minute inside this manky room. I look around quickly, making sure I’m leaving nothing behind but my dignity.
I unchain the door. I shoot the deadbolt. I step outside into the humid heat of a summer morning. I’d rather wait out here, sweating, then spend even one more?—
He’s here.
Cole is here.
He’s leaning against a jet-black Land Rover, holding a massive insulated cup. A deep purple bruise paints his jaw. He straightens when he sees me, and he fights to keep from wincing.
“I’m sorry,” he says. “For all of it. The paintings. The freeport. Most of all for leaving you. I was an idiot. And I’m so, so sorry.”
I spent hours last night, considering my own apology because Ididmeet with Megan despite his ban. I meant to amaze him with my humility, with my gentle speech. But all those words fly out of my head and I simply say, “I’m sorry too.”
And it turns out, that’s enough for both of us. He smiles, and it’s like watching the sun rise over a canyon. “Coffee?” he asks. “It was hot about four hours ago.”
I blush, thinking about what I was doing four hours ago—seducing Tarasov so we can destroy him forever.
I’ll tell Cole all of it. But first, I nod toward the massive vehicle. “New car?”
Of course he notices my flushed cheeks. He notices everything. His head tilts with just a hint of a question, but he says, “It’s Nilsson’s. I couldn’t climb into the Jaguar.”
“You poor thing!” The words burst out as I close the distance between us. I lean in like a schoolgirl and feather a kiss against his lips.
When he pulls me close, I hear the thunder of his heartbeat. His arms are stiff, though, and he hisses when my fingers find his ribs. I could stand here forever, but I know he needs to shift his weight.
When I edge back, he passes me the coffee. He walks me to the passenger side and opens the door, holding it until I’m settled in the seat. I wait until he’s behind the wheel before I say, “Home?”
He shakes his head. “We’re going to Sherman Federal Bank, downtown.”
“What’s at Sherman Federal?”
“A bank vault, where I’ll store everything from my freeport gallery. Just until I can organize a secure way to move it all closer to home.”
“Wait. A bank just opens up at seven in the morning so you can put things in their vault?”
“They do if you pay enough.”
“How much?”
“I don’t know. Nilsson made it happen.”
