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Gemma nods at her and says, “You have my number. Use it for whatever you need. Otherwise”—she stands to leave and gives me a nod—“we’ll see you two as soon as you know where Alexander is.”
I walk her out the door, making sure to lock it behind her, and I watch her make her way out to the black car she drove us here in.
Tonight, we debrief.
I head back over to Margaret, and she’s looking over the files Gemma gave her on an iPad, her face pinched in concentration. It’s adorable to see her so focused on something. I know her job involves a lot of paperwork, like most jobs in law enforcement, and cases like this seem to intrigue her. It wouldn’t surprise me if she wanted to be a detective someday.
“Mo,” I start, wanting to come clean and apologize but also not wanting to start a fight.
“Don’t worry about it,” she mumbles, her head still tilted down.
“No, hold on,” I snap, losing my head for a minute. I take a breath and she glances up at me, surprised I used a tone I haven’t used in front of her before. “I know I fucked up, okay? I get it. I should have included you from the start.” Her eyes are glued to mine and I know I have her; I just have to get through to her. “I should have called you the second they said I was going to Russia. I should have found you the minute I was moved here, but I didn’t, because I care about you. I didn’t want you mixed up in this shit all over again. I didn’t want to come in and flip your new world upside down.”
She doesn’t say anything, so I continue, digging dip for the guts I need to say what I need to say.
“I’m so fucking proud of what you’ve done with your life. You’re seriously the most badass woman I’ve ever met, and fuck me if I’m not completely in love with you.” I drag air in, thinking over the words I said and feeling terrified that I may have done something I can’t come back from.
I wait for her to say something, anything, and I blow out an amused laugh when she replies with, “You love me?”
I grin at her and bend in front of the chair she’s sitting on. “Yeah, I do. I fucking love you. I have since I saw you fight your way out of that warehouse in Vegas. No way I couldn’t.” I take her hand in mine, running my thumb over her left ring finger. “I’ve never loved anyone the way I love you. Living apart…” I blow out a sigh and sober when I look into her eyes. “It’s not an option.”
Margaret bites her cheek and seems to think about what I’ve told her. Her eyes are shiny with tears, the wall she erected to keep me out starts to fall, and the tablet is abandoned on the table. She clears her throat, her brows furrowing. “I’m terrified you’ll leave again.” Her admission makes a lump form in my throat, guilt and worry seeping into my bravado.
“I swear to you, I will never leave again, and if I have to go, you’re coming with me.”
“I—” A shrill ring slices through the air, and I close my eyes, hating all that is technology. I can’t ignore it, so I hold up a finger to tell her to wait for a minute.
“Stokes.”
“Stokes, there was a camera hit on Alexander, a nightclub aptly named Church about six miles from your location. Get there now. Sending the information.” Gemma hangs up, and the iPad beeps with an incoming alert.
Everything we need to know about where Alexander is stares at me on the screen, and I look over to Margaret. She nods and says, “Let’s end this, and then we can figure out everything else.”
Unable to resist, I wrap my hand around the back of her neck, catching her off guard. A surprised gasp leaves her and I bring our lips together, savoring her taste before we pull away, breathless. “Let’s go.”
