Page 110 of Capture Me


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It was beautiful. But could I really fit in somewhere so quiet and wholesome?

We landed at the team’s base and Gina yawned and stretched. The team tumbled sleepily out into the chilly morning air. There was talk of a party to welcome us home, but that could wait until we’d all had some rest.

Colton took my hand and I felt myself fill and lift. “My place is down there,” he said, pointing off into the distance. “Kinda a walk, sorry.”

I had to just nod that it was fine because I was suddenly speechless. As we started walking into the forest, I kept looking down at our joined hands. I hadn’t walked holding hands with someone—for real, not with a target—since I was a teenager. Even Lev hadn’t done that. I hadn’t expected something so light and romantic from Colton and I wasn’t ready for how it made me feel. Every time I felt his strong hand gripping mine, I got this heady surge of...what was that?

I realized that, just maybe, it was happiness. I bit my lip, feeling flighty and delirious and not too far from tearful. Happiness was going to be an adjustment.

Colton led me into the forest and down a slight hill. I began to glimpse water through the trees, just a hint at first but then, as the sun rose, more and more. And then the trees thinned out and—

Suddenly, I was looking into a mirror world. I could see the forest, the town, the mountain rising behind it. And right at the water’s edge, a red-haired woman and a huge, silent man gazing out across a wide, calm river.

I saw a cream, boxy trailer in the reflection and turned to look at the real one. Colton showed me up the steps and opened the door.

It was cozy and perfect. There was a double bed that folded away to make space, a tiny kitchenette with gas burners and a soft red couch that looked perfect for cuddling up on to watch TV. There were posters on the wall from heavy metal concerts and...was that a wrestling mask, pinned to the wall?

Colton looked around and rubbed at his stubble. “Sorry.”

I turned to him, confused. “What’s wrong with it? It’s great!”

“It ain’t what you’re used to.”

“What am I used to?”

“Your place in New York. And, y’know, all those fancy parties and embassies and hotels, and folk like Konstantin...”

There was a tiny catch in his voice when he said Konstantin. He was still jealous in a wonderful, possessive way, and I Ioved that. “Well, firstly,” I told him, “I’ve also spent a lot of time sleeping on the floors of bombed-out buildings in Syria, or lying on a mountaintop for three days with bugs crawling into my underwear while I gathered surveillance. And secondly, none of the places I’ve lived have been real. The safehouses were temporary. Disposable.” My voice trembled a little. “Like me.”

He put his hands on my waist and tugged me to him, letting me know that I most certainly was not disposable. Not anymore. “But when you...” His mouth tightened—“lived with your targets...” That possessiveness again, the amber in his eyes burning hot. “They were rich guys in mansions.”

I nodded. “But that wasn’t real either. I was on a mission. Playing a role.” I looked around at the trailer. “It wasn’t my...”—my voice unexpectedly cracked—“home.”

He blinked at me as if amazed and I blinked back because I wasn’t used to breaking like that in front of someone. He visibly relaxed and grinned at me. Then he picked me up by the waist and kissed me, a full-on romantic kiss, spinning us around so that my feet skittered across the linoleum, literally sweeping me off my feet. He pinned me up against the kitchen counter and the kiss became fiercer, deeper, that possessiveness coming out. His lips said you’re mine and mine answered yes I am.

And I realized that maybe showing weakness in front of someone wasn’t so bad after all.

There was a soft thump from somewhere deeper in the trailer and then, out of the corner of my eye, I saw something brown and furry gamboling towards us, still blinking and heavy-lidded from sleep. Before I could really accept what my brain was seeing, it had reached us and was climbing us like a tree, swarming up Colton’s legs and back and then wrapping a furry arm around me and peering curiously at my face. I blinked at shiny black eyes and a wet, black snout. He really does have a bear. A young bear, playful as a cub but not much smaller than a refrigerator.

“Atlas,” said Colton with deep affection. “Tanya. Tanya, Atlas.”

Atlas leaned towards me and snuffled at my cheek, his fur incredibly soft. Then I was being licked by a rough, wet tongue. And then Atlas tried to shift his weight over to me and—Chyort, I realized just how much he weighed. It was like being climbed on by a linebacker.

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