Epilogue #3
I fight to fill my lungs with air while peering down at my blouse.
A circular object pierced my abdomen, thankfully inches away from anything dangerous.
Coughing, I signal for my team to retreat.
We can’t risk detonating another trap, so we will need to bring in detonation experts before we can continue.
“I’m injured but okay,” I shout at my earpiece while creeping toward the exit.
I continually scan for targets. My hands are steady, and my focus is razor sharp. I can’t afford to hesitate. Not now. Not with more than my life on the line.
I’m about to slip into the open when a flash of movement to my left gains my attention. I pivot and then raise my gun, preparing to fire. My bullet remains in the chamber when I recognize the orange hair of the man darting toward the tree-studded forest.
“Maddox…” My voice is weak, leaving me no choice but to follow him.
I’m not sure how I am moving. Adrenaline must be driving my strides. Or perhaps revenge. Even though we’ve never met in person, I only need one glance to recognize the face of the deceased woman in the underground bunker Maddox just raced out of.
He killed India.
He killed the only person capable of disclosing my sister’s last known location.
He killed my only chance of getting my sister back.
And now he appears minutes from killing himself.
For a brief second, I’m tempted to let Maddox’s demons overwhelm him.
That’s how devastated I am that he allowed evil to win.
But then I’d be no better than him, and it would take me months to even my balance sheet.
So instead of permitting him to take the cheat’s route, I raise my gun, then demand he get on his knees and put his hands behind his back.
Stubborn and perhaps heartbroken, Maddox shakes his head. He isn’t a killer. His grief just got too much for him to bear. “I can’t go back there. I won’t survive it without her.” Tears stream down his face as he cranks his neck to me. “It isn’t what you’re thinking. Your sis—”
“Get on your fucking knees and put your hands behind your back!” I’m so angry that I am seconds from making a costly mistake.
I don’t want that, but Maddox isn’t leaving me much choice.
“Don’t make me shoot you, Maddox. Please.
” The crushing reality of how close I came to finding Kendall only to have it cruelly stripped away for revenge is devastating.
“I told you to stop. Why didn’t you listen to me? She’ll never be found now.”
My gun rattles when Maddox says, “She will be.” The pain spasming through my stomach is nonexistent when he speaks words I’ve practiced saying for fourteen and a half years. “Kendall will be home by the end of the week. We found them, Macy. They’re coming home.”
“You found her?” I don’t recognize my own voice. I’m in shock. I must be. I’ve never sounded more lost.
Maddox’s nod is barely visible through the tears corrupting my vision. “Yes.” It is only one word, but it is the only one I need to hear.
The night quietens, the threat seemingly gone.
Or so it seems.
As Maddox’s hand slips behind his back, a shadowed figure presents on the horizon.
I shout for him to show me his hands, to disarm himself before I’m forced to retaliate. But when his grin proves actions will always speak louder than words, I brace my stance and then peer down the scope of my gun before I fire once.
GRAYSON
As I hover near the arrival gate of a private airstrip five clicks out of Ravenshoe, my heart pounds so ruefully that I feel it in my throat.
Considering the expense of flying private, the airport is surprisingly crowded.
Most are tourists, but a handful of business owners returning home after a long week away mingle among the families wearing matching shirts.
The air is teeming with excited energy, but all I see is the vacant spot next to me. It’s been a hollow emptiness for three days, and only one person will fill it.
Crew stands at my right, scanning every face that passes as if he has forgotten the one he’ll never stop seeking, even after assisting in freeing her from the insanity. He’s tense, but there’s a softness in his expression I haven’t seen him wear before.
Mason wriggles in my arms as his eyes widen with eagerness. He’s been asking for his mom every five minutes since we left the house, and he’s ready to pounce the instant he sees her.
Even though I know Macy’s flight landed ten minutes ago, I still check the flight planner app on my phone. I want to believe she did the impossible this time, but a part of me is panicked that I’ll wake up and discover the past week was a dream.
Don’t get me wrong. I’d happily erase the fear I still feel slicking my skin when Macy’s oomph barreled through comms a nanosecond after an agent kicked the wrong empty can of beer, and the minutes of silence that followed her brief update.
But I’ll never trade the euphoria I felt watching Macy walk out of the back of a paramedic’s van with relatively minor injuries and straight onto a bureau-assigned private jet fueled and ready to take her to Kendall’s last known location.
After everything—the endless nights, the multiple close calls, and a risky operation that I have no doubt would have fallen apart if my father hadn’t taken control—it’s surreal that this day is finally here.
Although Macy’s covert operation began under the CIA’s umbrella, the bureau rallied behind her. The joint operation netted a handful of rogue agents who were working against us from the inside. It also forged ties so strong that I see joint collaborations becoming the norm in the future.
How could they not want to work together?
The director of the bureau ran an extremely successful operation from the breakfast nook in my home. My admiration for my father grew tenfold that day. He is precisely the man I plan to emulate while raising Mason.
Talking about Mason, he squeals two seconds before I discover the reason for his squawks.
Macy is at the end of the gangway. Her hair is pulled back in a low ponytail, leaving no coverage for her exhausted expression, but a gleam I’ve never seen in her eyes retains her title of the most beautiful woman in the world.
Beside her is Kendall, who is clutching Macy’s hand so tightly her knuckles are white. She’s thinner than I anticipated, and her eyes are extremely wary, but when they lock with the man standing next to me, a sigh so pure it vibrates across the room seeps from her mouth.
When Kendall runs into Crew’s arms, his shocked exhaustion fans my nape before he pulls her in tight. He’s crying. Not the gut-wrenching sob of a broken man on the cusp of losing everything. More silent tears of relief that slip down his cheeks relatively unnoticed.
Even with her clothes hanging loosely on her malnourished frame and her eyes sunken from years of neglect, Crew drinks Kendall in as if she is the most precious jewel in the world.
The sheer awe in his glistening eyes assures me things will be better for him than they were for me when I found Cameron.
He now has faith in the system. We all do.
With Mason not understanding the importance of the scene that half the airport can’t veer their eyes from, Macy drops her bag and stretches her arms out for him. He wiggles out of my hold before he sprints across the polished floor with his arms outstretched.
“Meme!” he shouts, his voice echoing.
After catching him midair, Macy pulls him in for a hug so fierce that I expect his lips to be faint blue when she finally releases him. The past few days have been hard on her. They were hard on all of us, but that’s done with now.
We can finally move forward, and I’m excited to see Macy thrive now that she’s unburdened by grief.
As I stand motionless, forever on alert, I’m swamped by a wave of emotions so powerful it knocks the air from my lungs. Macy fought like hell to get here, and despite how many doors were slammed in her face, she refused to give up.
Now her dedication has moved mountains.
I catch Macy’s eye, and for a moment, the noise and bustle of the airport fade away. There’s no one but us and the unspoken unity of pride and accomplishment.
When I mouth, I love you, Macy smiles, her eyes shining with tears of triumph.
Incapable of keeping my feet rooted for a second longer, I join her by the departure gate. Kendall doesn’t follow my lead. She lingers back, avoiding eye contact as if afraid of intruding—like that’s even a possibility.
I issue Crew my thanks with a smile when he gently nudges Kendall forward.
Her steps are tentative, each one a defiant act of courage.
Halfway across the terminal, her gaze flicks up to meet Crew’s, and the tides shift.
He moves closer to her. He doesn’t crowd her.
He merely stands close enough for her to know she’s not alone.
The vulnerability in Kendall’s posture is matched only by the fierce protectiveness in Macy’s eyes. They tell Kendall she doesn’t need to rush. She can heal at her own pace. Macy will never push the narrative—not even when she should.
Macy’s tremors tickle the sleeve of my shirt when her sister slowly approaches our tight-knit gathering. Her shakes aren’t in fear. She’s relieved she can finally let go of that minute sliver of hope she’s been clasping for the past fourteen years.
Kendall will need therapy and constant reassurance to truly heal.
Even someone not viewing her through the eyes of an agent would reach the same conclusion.
She flinches at the faintest noises and shows hesitation even while eyeballed by those who love her most, but I’d be more concerned if she had no neuroses than a truckload.
Macy will teach her that healing isn’t linear. Time, patience, and support from someone who’s walked through a similar hell will guide her slow trek down the right path.
Then, once she’s done that, perhaps Macy won’t be so reluctant to accept the care she deserves, too.
She has more than earned the right to be loved and cherished without worrying that guilt and obligations will come back to bite her in the ass.
She can be happy and treasured without the weight of everyone else’s burdens on her shoulders.
It is her time to heal as well, and I can’t wait to love her freely, fiercely, and without fear that I’m stealing her time from something worthier.
We can love and be loved without anything in our way.
Life won’t get better than this. It is impossible when everything is already perfect.
After tugging Macy in close, I kiss her forehead, then whisper, “You did it, freckles.” My lips linger, and I breathe in her scent like it isn’t tarnished with the unscrupulous despairs of the underworld. “And you did it with eight months to spare this time.”
Her elbow lands in my ribs, winding me, as Kendall and Crew double the circumference of our circle of trust. When my eyes meet Kendall’s, she smiles softly, like she can feel the love I have for her sister, before her fingers twist in her oversized shirt.
They barely cause a crinkle to the cotton when Crew eases her shakes by intertwining their fingers. It is such a simple gesture, yet highly impactful. Kendall’s shudders immediately dull, and the biggest, brightest grin stretches across Macy’s face.
She’s so caught up in her excitement that she blurts out the news we were planning to keep secret for a couple more months.
“We’re pregnant.” She waves her hand through the air, her expression nothing like it was when the test I purchased showed a clear positive result.
She wasn’t fretful about adding to our family.
We’ve been striving to achieve that for the past twelve months.
She was more concerned about us once again pushing against the barriers, as we have numerous times over the past fourteen years, and how painful it could make karma’s bite.
“I know it’s crazy considering my age, but this feels right, like it is meant to be. ”
Her confession hangs in the air, and for a second, no one moves. Then, from behind us, a holler ripples across the airport. Adeline leaps into the air like she manned up and got the job done for me, before she barges through the thickening crowd.
She hugs Macy while waggling her brows at me.
Her jubilance is responsible for the first genuine smile I believe Kendall has given in over a decade, but it can’t nab the spotlight.
Everyone stares at Kendall in awe, shocked at how different someone looks when they’re genuinely happy, but instead of their gawks weakening her confidence, they bolster it.
The gleam in her eyes announces she’s ready to take charge of her destiny, and she begins that by asking Crew to take her home.
Home. Such a simple word for something wildly inviting.
As Macy and I shadow Kendall and Crew’s exit of the airport, Adeline wedges herself between us, as Mason usually does.
He’d normally have something to say about anyone stealing the devotion of his parents, but he’s too busy being spoiled by my parents to worry about a fill-in sibling stealing his limelight.
“I knew this”—Adeline wiggles her finger between us, the awe on her face growing—“would be worth the possibility of instant dismissal.”
Lost, I look at Macy, who shrugs as if clueless.
She’s lying. Don’t ask how I know. I just do.
I outrank her, so I could demand answers, or better yet, coerce them out of her during a lengthy sexual activity. It just doesn’t seem worth it. My dreams have finally come true. I’m in love with a woman way out of my league, and my family is safe and expanding.
What more could a man want than that?
This unpredictable, chaos-in-disguise life is exactly what I need, and I plan to savor it until my final days.
The End!