Epilogue
Alison
After that, things went hazy for a while.
I remember being loaded into an ambulance as the street filled up with police cars. Gennadiy was trying to climb in beside me, a cop was trying to handcuff him, and Calahan was arguing with both of them. Then everything went black.
When I came to, it was daylight, and I was in a hospital bed in a quiet room. One leg was in plaster, I was hooked up to an IV, and I could feel a dressing on my back. I tried to move, winced and groaned, then tried again.
“For once in your life, would you just stop?” pleaded a familiar voice.
I twisted around to look. Calahan, looking even more disheveled than usual, was sprawled in a chair next to my bed. “Gennadiy?” I asked immediately.
His mouth tightened. I think maybe he was still hoping that he could talk some sense into me.
But then he looked into my eyes, and whatever he saw there made him sigh in resignation and then soften.
“Gennadiy’s fine. I mean, he’s at the center of a major police investigation into all the bodies that you two left at that ambulance company, and at Viktor Grushin’s house, but–”
The door opened, and Gennadiy marched in.
“…he does have a very good defense attorney,” grumbled Calahan.
Gennadiy swept his hands under my shoulders and lifted me to him, pressing me to his chest and resting my head against his shoulder.
He only loosened his grip when the machines beside my bed started to beep accusingly.
Then he gently laid me back down and gave me a look of such fierce, possessive love that I melted.
“Are you going to jail?” I asked, worried.
“Conrad got me out on bail,” Gennadiy told me. “As for jail…” He looked at Calahan and rubbed his stubble. “The situation is…fluid.”
Calahan sighed. “About a billion people want to take statements from you. You might want to start thinking about what you’re going to say.”
I nodded gratefully.
Calahan ran a hand through his hair. “The DA wanted to throw the book at the Aristovs. But now the DA himself is under investigation by the Justice Department. As is everyone who Grushin gave a new organ to at all three clinics. It’s going to take months to shake out, and meanwhile, the case against the Aristovs is falling apart.
Especially because Caroline has testified that it was Grushin who tried to assassinate you, and that she switched the bullets to try to implicate Gennadiy, and stole the coke they used to set you up. ”
“Is she going to jail?” I asked.
“For a while,” said Calahan. “But she’s cooperating in the case against Grushin. If she gets a good lawyer…”
I made puppy-dog eyes at Gennadiy.
“The woman conspired to assassinate you,” he reminded me. “She set you up. She stabbed you!”
“And saved me,” I argued. “She did the right thing…eventually. And she has kids!”
Gennadiy cursed under his breath. “I’ll get Conrad to recommend someone good.”
“What about you and Carrie?” I asked Calahan.
Calahan shrugged. “Well, we broke a lot of rules…but Carrie managed to spin it that we were helping an agent in danger, whose own office had been compromised. The FBI is embarrassed enough that it’d rather the whole thing just went away.
We’ll be okay.” He stood. “I’ll give you two some time alone.
Try and rest, okay?” He walked over to Gennadiy, stopping when they were almost chest-to-chest. “And as for you…” His voice became like steel.
“Treat her right. Or jail will be the least of your worries.”
Gennadiy gave him a solemn nod. When the door closed behind Calahan, he leaned over the bed and put his big, warm palm on my cheek.
His thumb brushed my lower lip. “You scared me.” He smiled, but there was a tremor in his voice.
“Maybe…try not to drown, or get shot at, or stabbed, just for a week or so?”
“I’ll consider it,” I muttered. And kissed him.
Four days later, Gennadiy was pushing me around the hospital gardens in a wheelchair.
It was my first time outdoors since I was stabbed.
September had brought an end to the thunderstorms, and the crisp, cool morning air felt amazing against my face.
Then a familiar figure wandered towards us, and my heart forgot to beat for a second. This is it.
“Hey,” said Assistant Director Halifax. He nodded politely to Gennadiy. “Mr. Aristov. May I have a word with Alison?”
Gennadiy scowled at him. He’d make an exception for me, and maybe for Calahan and Carrie, but, to him, the FBI was still the FBI. “You want me to stay?” he asked me.
I shook my head. “No. Thank you.”
Gennadiy wheeled the wheelchair over to a bench so that Halifax could sit down. “I’ll be just over there,” he told me, nodding to a nearby tree. But he was glaring at Halifax when he said it, and I didn’t miss the threat in his voice.
Halifax sat down on the bench and passed me one of the two coffees he was carrying. “I’ve got news.”
“The charges, or my job?”
“Both. Which do you want first?”
My mouth was suddenly dry. Ever since I woke up, I’d been imagining this moment, playing out all the different ways it could go. I sipped my coffee. He’d remembered how I liked it. “The charges,” I said, my voice tight.
“All charges against you have been dropped.”
I took a breath. It felt like an iron band around my chest had just disappeared. I took a gulp of coffee to cover myself. “And my job?”
“Given the extenuating circumstances, Grushin’s arrest and all the arrests it’s led to, the Director feels it would be a mistake to lose such a good agent. There’ll be a reprimand in your record, and you’ll need to complete a probationary period, but…” He smiled. “You can come back, Alison.”
And that’s when I realized that, unconsciously, I’d been hoping I’d be fired. Because now I had to choose. Halifax’s eyes followed mine to Gennadiy.
“You don’t need me to tell you that there are rules,” he said gently.
I nodded silently. My eyes were going hot.
“You don’t need to decide now,” Halifax told me. “Think it over while you heal. Take a week.”
I tried to imagine life without the FBI.
It felt like a crack was forming, starting on the surface and winding deeper and deeper, until it terminated right in my soul and a whole, cliff-sized wedge of me broke off and tumbled away into the ocean, leaving huge areas of me vulnerable and exposed.
For my entire working life, I’d been catching bad guys and solving cases, going for beers with cops or FBI agents, and then falling asleep thinking about a case.
I didn’t know how to do anything else. I didn’t have anything else.
Then I looked at Gennadiy. Somehow, I’d found the one person in the universe who was the same as me, who got me.
Who knew what it was like to stay up until three in the morning because you had to solve this problem, who wouldn’t hate me for working flat-out.
But who’d look after me, who’d drag me off to bed when I really was overdoing it.
And who’d let me do the same for him. Who’d always protect me, no matter what. Who’d risk everything to save me.
A new life, without the FBI, was terrifying.
But a life without Gennadiy was unimaginable.
I sniffed, blinked back tears, and shook my head. “I don’t need a week,” I told Halifax. “I resign.”
One Month Later
Gennadiy
“So this is your favorite place?” asked Alison. She was blinking, her eyes still adjusting to the gloom after the bright sun outside.
“My favorite place,” I confirmed. Not long ago, I wouldn’t have even considered telling someone that, or even admitting to having a favorite place.
A lot had changed. I squeezed her hand and led her forward, through shafts of sunlight that lanced down into the dark space like lasers, revealing dust motes that danced and swirled as we breathed.
I took Alison’s hand and guided it. She suddenly yelped as her palm brushed a warm, velvety nose.
“Heaven’s Tears,” I told her. “But we call him Cloud.”
As our eyes adjusted to the dark, we could make out a beautiful gray stallion with cream patches. Alison gasped as the horse snorted against her palm and then lowered his head for scratches.
“He likes you,” I told her.
“He’s amazing,” whispered Alison.
“He’s the second most beautiful thing here,” I murmured, running my eyes over her.
The jodhpurs showed off every graceful curve of her long legs, and the tight white blouse made those high little breasts absolutely mouthwatering.
With her black hair swishing in its ponytail and her ass bouncing up and down in the saddle, I knew I wasn’t going to be able to take my eyes off her all day.
“Even standing still, he looks fast,” said Alison.
“He was a racehorse,” I said. “Until a guy called Spartak burned our old stables down. Cloud survived, but…”–I showed Alison the burn scars– “He’ll never race again.”
Alison nodded sadly, running her hand over the horse’s back. I could feel them bonding.
“He still loves to run, though,” I said. “Don’t worry, we’ll start you off on someone slower. Let me show you how to put a saddle on.”
By the end of the day, we were sore and laughing and pleasantly exhausted.
As the sun set, we walked back towards the car, where Valentin was waiting to drive us back to the city.
I was still waiting for my new car to arrive, so I’d asked him to give us a ride.
I could have just hired a car, but—my chest went tight—I’d wanted him here for a reason.
Alison saw my expression and gently slipped her hand out of mine. “Why don’t you go on ahead?” she said. “I’m going to go back to the stables and see the horses. Take as long as you need.”
I nodded silently. She understood. She always did. I sucked in a breath and looked around. Valentin and I were all alone, with fields all around and no one to hear us. It would never get any easier than this.