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It wasn’t what she expected, but her heart was full to overflowing with love and admiration for the man lying in the hospital bed in front of her. How easy it would be for him to be bitter about the attacks. Or, as she’d honestly expected, for him to blame her for not stopping it. But not Cole.
Cole’s voice got quiet, slipping into the drowsy lilt of peaceful sleep. “Who knows? Maybe the next breakthrough will happen just because our information is in the hands of a curious graduate researcher at this very moment.”
Cole’s eyes closed gently, and Joey set his water aside, leaving her hands nested in his. Would this man ever stop surprising her? Or would her preconceived notions of what it meant to be Cole Kensington forever shape her expectations of the man.
It hardly seemed possible that less than two months ago, she’d been convinced that he was a member of the Syndicate and corrupted by greed and power. And now? She trusted him with her life.
Perhaps even scarier, she trusted him with her heart.
At the sound of a knock, she looked up to see Flint in the doorway. “Hey, boss,” she said with a tired but contented voice.
“Hey. How is he?” Flint nodded toward Cole’s sleeping form.
Joey patted his hand. “He’s good. We’re good. Everything is very, very good right now.”
Flint smiled. “That’s good,” he said with a chuckle.
Joey laughed. “What about everything else?”
Flint came to the other side of Cole’s bed and looked at his friend while he gave her the update. “There’s a lot going on. Patrick is in custody. They already matched his gun to the shots fired at you in the alley.” Flint turned his gaze back to hers. “We could really use you back at headquarters. Steven is doing great, but it’s not the same. And Will and the team out there… Blue Smoke is a tricky mission, and the witness they’re protecting? It’s just… we could use you.”
Joey nodded. Flint needed her. That was nothing new.
But Cole needed her, too.
“Maybe in a little while. I want to be here when he wakes up again.”
The boundary felt awkward, like a pair of shoes she hadn’t worn in a while and needed to break in. Flint simply nodded in response.
“I understand,” he said. He got up and came around the bed, stepping close to her. “When you’re ready, okay?”
“Thanks, Flint,” she said, looking up at him. “For everything.”
He laid a hand on her shoulder, then leaned in to kiss her hairline. It was an intimate, fatherly gesture, and she relished the feeling of being valued and loved. Not just for what she could do, but because of who she was.
As Flint left, a nurse stepped through the door and whispered a greeting. “Let’s see how your man is doing today, shall we?”
EPILOGUE
WillGilbert stared across the bleak hotel room at Melanie Byers with a scowl on his face. The woman was terrified, that much was obvious. Of course, why wouldn’t she be? She was the only witness to the assassination of the President of the United States.
It was just his luck that some innocent hotel clerk without two licks of sense would have stumbled into the assassination, winding up with a huge target on her back.
Which meant not only did he have to capture the man who killed President Walters, he had to keep that professional hitman from killing the woman sitting across from him on a dingy comforter. Her hair was falling out of its confines, framing her face with wispy strands. She stared at her hands, like she had been for the last ten minutes.
“Tell me again,” he commanded.
She jerked at his voice, and Will felt a twinge of regret at his harsh tone.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” he tried again. “I’m just trying to piece together everything that happened.”
Melanie’s eyes were wide as she looked at him. Fear? Maybe. That didn’t seem quite right though.
“Sure. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. I really appreciate you guys taking care of me.”
Will grunted. As though they had much choice. When the man you were hunting was hunting someone else? It was in your best interest to know where they were.
* * *
