AllFreeNovel
Share Us
He opened his eyes, feeling like his heart had been ripped out. His throat felt dry, and he wanted to scream. He wanted to beg the world to give her back.
Mickey had let go so he could live. She sacrificed herself so he wouldn't die. He didn't know if he could live with that.
"Was I the only person they pulled out of the water?" He looked at her, praying she would say no.
He wanted Mickey to be alive and that she had just stepped out to grab herself something to eat. He wanted her to just be gone at that moment but coming right back.
The general took too long to answer, and he knew he had been alone. She wasn't coming.
He watched the general's expression slip, and she nodded. "You were the only person they pulled out of the water. Why do you ask?"
His heart stopped, and he inhaled sharply, trying to calm himself. Anderson's eyes narrowed on him. "Was Mickey with you?"
He nodded, seeing no reason to hide the truth from her.
Anderson's eyes widened. "Really?"
He nodded again. "We were being shot at trying to escape after stealing those damn baseballs, and I kept hearing ‘let me go. Just drop me.’ I wasn't going to. But suddenly, the bullet hit my wing, and my talons loosened. I don't remember …"
He swallowed, still feeling her slip between his grasp and fall. He curled his hands into tight fists.
Anderson frowned. "I'm sorry, Strap. I imagine he meant a lot to you, and I'm sorry you lost such an important person. I know he was a father figure to you."
He didn't know whether he should tell her the truth. Maybe it was better this way.
It wouldn't matter. Both of them were dead, and there was no point in correcting her.
"But maybe that's for the best. After all, he was a thief. But you never know. A passing cargo ship might have been able to pick him up." She adjusted her footing. "Although it might be hard for him to survive such a fall at his advanced age."
He nodded, rubbing his eyes. He felt a headache forming. "Maybe …"
He didn't know what to say. All he could think about was the fact he had found his mate, and he'd already lost her. That wasn't how he wanted their story to go.
We were supposed to get married and have children. We were supposed to laugh about this later in life. Tell our children the story of how we met.
Breath choked in his throat as he realized he was never going to hear her joke with him. He would do anything for her to call him a bare-assed perv nudist again.
Anderson walked toward the packs and pulled them up. From his, she grabbed his phone and tossed it to him. "Well, on the bright side of things. You're alive. Stay in touch, won't you? When you're feeling better, we can talk about your freedom."
She pulled the bag close, holding a smile. "Hey, you're a free man. No mate to hold you down, right? Which is good because you have some great skills that are useful. I have no one else on my team that could do what you do."
What was she saying? It almost sounded like she was offering him something. He shook his head and ran his hand over his neck. He froze when his finger found the location of the GPS device.
Anderson gave him a smile. "I had it removed when you first arrived. You're a free man."
He felt the emptiness of where the device had been and relaxed. Not that he had anything to relax for. Mickey was gone. What did he have to live for?
"That's it?" he scoffed. "This entire thing was over some stupid baseballs? They don't even look like real baseballs."
She opened the bag and pulled a baseball out. She looked at Cannon. "Extend your claw for a moment."
Cannon did, looking at her with a calm expression. He'd almost forgotten Cannon was in the room.
He watched as she used the claw to cut into the baseball. His jaw dropped. "What are you doing? I didn't work my ass off for you to fucking ruin them. Those are priceless pieces of history."
She smirked, shaking her head. "They are, but not everything is what it seems. You should know that by now."
She peeled back the cover of the ball and revealed one of the infamous missing Faberge Eggs. He couldn't believe his eyes. When Mick wroteeggsin his journal, he literally meant it. There was no code word. His journal had no secret when it came to the baseballs.
