Chapter 19
Three days later, Sloane’s shoulders relaxed as she leaned back against the burgundy vinyl of a café’s corner booth, the leather creaking beneath her. Steam curled from the cappuccino cupped between her hands, and she watched it dance upward in lazy swirls before dissipating into the air.
A smile played at the corners of her lips. The past three days with Callum had been nothing less than blissful. They had hardly gotten out of bed. They had definitely never stopped touching each other.
The sex had been everything she could’ve ever wanted or imagined. It almost broke her brain to think about the fact that she’d always be a little thankful for her kidnapping because it had led to this time she had with Callum.
And, no matter what happened, she would always be glad he’d been her first.
Across from her, he took a sip from his own mug, brown eyes flicking periodically to the café entrance behind her. Even here, in this unassuming little coffee shop on the outskirts of town, he remained alert, shoulders taut beneath his navy Henley.
Evidently, old habits died hard for a man who had spent so many years walking the knife’s edge between life and death.
“I like seeing you this way,” Callum said, drawing Sloane’s gaze.
“What way?”
“Smiling. Relaxed. Like you don’t have the weight of the world on your shoulders.”
She reached across the table, intertwining her fingers with his. “Being with you…it makes me feel safe, even with everything.”
“And I especially liked seeing you eat the crème br?lée.”
She licked her lips, loving the way the gesture drew his eyes. “That was the most delicious dessert I think I’ve ever had.”
“Watching you eat it was the most delicious thing I’ve ever seen.”
She couldn’t stop her blush, but she loved his words.
She would’ve been content with staying in the safe house with him again today, even though she probably would’ve been too sore to do much more lovemaking. Even with how gentle he’d been, they’d still done… a lot .
But when he’d asked if she wanted to go to another outdoor market—this one more knickknacks, clothing, and household goods rather than just food—she’d definitely wanted to.
“What about op sec?” she’d asked.
He grinned at her use of the term. “We’ll keep a careful eye out, but it’s a relatively low risk and…”
He’d looked away.
“And what?”
“And I want you to have a little more of a taste of the Europe you were hoping for. I know it’s not Paris, but?—”
She’d planted a kiss on him that had led to their going back to the bed despite her soreness. The fact that he’d thought of the market for her meant everything .
And the hours they spent there this morning, wandering through, enjoying the sunshine and the atmosphere of it all, had been damned near perfect. She hadn’t bought anything—she hadn’t wanted to ask him for money, and she had none of her own—but that hadn’t mattered. She’d gotten to experience the market, a memory that would always be with her.
Amazing how the good memories were starting to add up.
He squeezed her hand now, his touch warm and reassuring, bringing her back to the present. “Lincoln’s contacts should have our passports and documents ready tomorrow. We’ll get them then head down to the Ukraine border and into Odesa, a coastal town.”
“And there, the new high-speed overnight ferry to Barcelona.”
“Exactly. If we can get out of Eastern Europe, the Kozaks’ reach becomes much less—even with Jakob threatening eternal damnation on my head. Once in Spain, it’ll be easy to make our way home.”
That should thrill her, right? Being able to put this whole ordeal behind her? But she had to push back sadness at the thought and knew it was because that meant her relationship—if it could even be called that—with Callum would be over. Despite everything, he hadn’t mentioned anything about continuing their association once they were stateside.
A young couple came through the door, and he tensed, as he had every time the door had opened. Being here was stressful for him. She knew he was doing it for her, and she appreciated it. But it was time to go.
She finished her last sip of coffee. “Are you ready to head back home?”
Home . Funny how that tiny studio apartment with one window was more of a home to her than the Getty mansion had ever been, despite five years of living there.
He let out a small sigh. “Am I being jumpy?”
“Maybe a little, but I appreciate that you want to protect me.”
His eyes got serious. More serious. “I do want to protect you. I hope you know that.”
“I do. I appreciate you taking me to the market today, not to mention this crème br?lée and cappuccino. But the price you’re paying to give it to me is high, so let’s head back so you can relax.”
“I know you wish you could enjoy more of Europe.”
“Who knows, maybe there will be a return trip in my future under better circumstances.”
She hoped maybe he would suggest them coming back together, but he said nothing. She tamped down the sadness. Besides, who could blame him for not wanting to come back to where he’d been shot and stabbed?
She started to stand, but he placed a hand on her arm, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a small velvet pouch. “I wanted to give you something, a reminder of our time here together.”
Sloane’s breath caught in her throat as he opened the pouch, revealing a delicate silver necklace with an angel pendant, the very one she’d been admiring at one of the market vendors this morning. Tears welled in her eyes as he fastened it around her neck, his fingers brushing against her skin with a tenderness that made her heart ache.
“Callum, it’s beautiful. I don’t know what to say.”
He smiled, cupping her face in his hands. “I can’t imagine anything else being more perfect for you to wear than an angel.”
If only he knew. She thought about telling him the truth right here and now, just to get it out in the open. But she couldn’t bring herself to do it. It would ruin the time they had left.
She clutched the pendant in her palm. She would cherish it forever. “Let’s get back home.”
He smiled. “Your wish is my command.”
They paid the bill and were out the door a couple minutes later. Hand in hand, they walked, both of them torn between wanting to hurry to the bed waiting for them at home while also savoring this sweet moment together.
As they turned the corner of the side street the safe house was on, the burner phone in Callum’s pocket vibrated, shattering their tranquil moment. Sloane felt his grip tighten as he retrieved the device, his brow furrowing as he read the urgent message. The color drained from his face, and Sloane’s stomach twisted with dread.
“What is it? What’s wrong?” Her voice trembled, fear creeping into her veins.
He turned the phone around to show her a text from Lincoln.
911. Safe house compromised. Get out NOW.
A second later, they heard the screech of tires as three cars pulled up in front of the safe house. Men piled out and into the building, leaving a couple out front to stand guard.
There was no way she and Callum would be able to get out of the alley they were in without walking past them.
Callum’s grip on her hand tightened, his senses heightened by the imminent threat. “We need to find a way out of here. This alley is a dead end.”
He leaned back, eyes scanning the alley, obviously searching for any means of escape. When his focus didn’t move past the rusted fire escape ladder clinging to the side of the building, she knew what he was thinking.
“Up there,” Callum gestured, his voice low and urgent. “We’ll have to climb.”
Sloane followed his gaze, her stomach churning at the thought of scaling the precarious ladder. But there was no time for hesitation. Once the guys realized they weren’t inside the safe house, they’d come back out and start searching around here.
With a boost from Callum, Sloane grabbed the lowest rung, the metal biting into her palms as she hoisted herself up. Callum followed close behind, his movements swift and agile. They climbed in silence, their breaths coming in short, sharp gasps as they ascended to the rooftop.
Once they reached the top, he scanned the surrounding buildings. He pointed to a nearby rooftop. “We’ll have to jump. It’s the only way.”
Sloane swallowed hard, fear and adrenaline battling for dominance inside her. But Callum’s resolute expression was all the reassurance she needed.
With a deep breath, she took his hand, their fingers intertwining in a silent promise. They backed up, their eyes locked on the gap between the buildings. In that moment, the world seemed to fall away, leaving only the two of them and the leap of faith that lay ahead.
“On three,” he whispered, his voice a lifeline in the chaos.
He counted and they ran, their feet pounding against the rooftop as they raced toward the edge. Sloane’s heart soared as they launched themselves into the air, the wind whipping through her hair as they sailed across the chasm. For a split second, time seemed to stand still, suspended between the danger they left behind and the unknown that awaited them.
As they landed on the opposite rooftop, she stumbled, but Callum’s hand on hers steadied her. They paused for a moment, catching their breath and scanning the streets below for any signs of their pursuers. The men were coming out of the safe house and looking for them, but none of them were looking up. Callum had definitely made the right call.
They made it to the opposite side of the building then climbed back down that fire escape to exit on the much busier street. Callum put his arm around her and walked quickly out of the area.
“We’re going to need to steal another car.” He looked around then led her toward another garage. A few minutes later, they once again had transportation.
Sloane was too scared to be concerned about repurposing another vehicle. That had been such a close call. Her hands wouldn’t stop shaking. “If we hadn’t gone out, they would have caught us. Killed us, maybe.”
“I’d like to think we could’ve gotten out in time, but it would’ve been fucking close.” Callum’s jaw was tight. “Let me call Lincoln.”
He put the phone on speaker and drove quickly but carefully through the city streets in their stolen vehicle.
“Callum. Jesus fuck. Thank God. I thought they’d gotten you. I was calling everyone we know.”
“We’re okay, although barely. We’re getting out of town. What happened?”
She could hear Lincoln tapping away on his computer. “I think it’s the phone. You need to ditch it.”
“Roger. We’re going to need to change where our paperwork is delivered. It’ll need to be waiting for us at the port in Odesa. I’ll get us across the Ukraine border without it and contact you once we’re in Barcelona.”
“Got it. Stay alive.”
“I plan on it.”
Callum ended the call, his expression grim as he rolled down the window and tossed the burner phone out onto the street. Sloane watched as it shattered against the asphalt.
As the window slid shut, Sloane couldn’t help but feel a profound sense of loss. The safe house had been more than just a place to hide; it had been a sanctuary.
It had been home . And now, it was gone.
Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes, and she turned her face toward the window, not wanting him to see her moment of weakness. He carried the weight of their safety on his shoulders, and she didn’t want to add to his burden.
But he noticed anyway.
“Hey.” He reached over and grabbed her hand. “We’re safe. Don’t worry.”
“I know. That’s not it.”
“Talk to me.”
She wiped at the tears with her free hand. Her thoughts were so stupid, given everything, she was embarrassed to say anything about it.
“Tell me, angel. Was that too close of a call?”
She shook her head. “I just thought we’d be going back, you know? I…I was hoping to take that art history book home with me. That’s stupid. I know.”
“It’s not stupid at all. We’ll get you another copy of that textbook,” he promised, his voice soft but filled with determination. “The exact same one. As soon as we’re safe, I’ll track one down for you.”
Sloane turned to face him, searching his features, finding solace in the unwavering strength and tenderness that radiated from his gaze.
“You don’t have to do that,” she whispered, her voice trembling slightly. “It’s just a book.”
“It’s not just a book,” Callum countered, stroking the back of her hand with his thumb. “It’s a symbol of everything you want for yourself, for your future.”
And a symbol of the time they’d spent together. A way to remember him. But maybe saying that would be too much.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
He turned his full attention back to the road in front of them. “But for now, we focus on making it out of this alive.”