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“I have a name.”
Raketa took another deep breath. “
Who?”
This was the ultimate test. Would he tell her? If he didn’t, she would walk away from him and never look back.
“Kuznetsov.”
18
Yes. Now she understood. United Russia had wanted Orina “Losha” Kuznetsov’s head since before Raketa had decided to defect. It was the assignment she’d declined that started the wheels in motion bringing her to where they were now.
No one declined an assignment from United Russia. Not ever.
She’d waited for a sign, something to happen that she’d know, without question, that it was time to make her move. That was when she contacted Gunner and made the deal with him.
She’d been tracking Petrov from the minute she’d heard he resurfaced after twenty years. She knew the exact moment the Armenians had taken Aine and two of her friends hostage, and again, the moment they took Ava. By then, she and Gunner were already working on finding Aine.
But it had all started with Kuznetsov.
“That is not an option.”
“Why not?” he asked, looking deep into her eyes. “Because of MI6? Because of Shiver?”
Raketa shook her head. “No. This decision is mine alone, not because of anything or anyone else. Because I cannot use Losha to secure my freedom.”
“Why not?”
She’d asked for his honesty, would’ve walked away if he hadn’t given it. Now she had to do the same.
“She saved my life. Not just that, she kept me alive, kept me going. She made me Raketa and helped me leave Zaryana behind.”
“I see.”
“My final assignment from UR, the one I walked away from, was her assassination.”
“That’s why you wanted to defect.”
“No,” she said, putting her hands on the sides of his face. “You are the reason I wanted to defect.”
Gunner’s eyes bored into hers.
“I knew from the first time I saw you that one day I would be with you.”
Gunner nodded. “I felt it too.”
“Come inside with me,” she said, standing and taking his hand. “Let’s pretend we’re back on your island where nothing can touch us. Where we can be free to love each other without fear for our lives.”
—:—
He couldn’t have predicted it would be different, but it was. Holding Raketa in his arms after sharing so much of themselves, trusting each other with the things that were ripping away at their souls, had freed them to simply experience love.
Their touch was tender and slow. Where passion drove them before, this time, love took the wheel. Gunner didn’t know what tomorrow would bring, or how they would get Raketa out from under United Russia’s threat, or how they would find Petrov and emancipate her mother, but together, they would.
* * *
“It’s about damn time you surfaced,” Striker said when Gunner walked in the kitchen. He responded by flipping him off.
