Chapter 26
Pierce
Once again, Thea’s body is tangled up with mine. My hand is on the dip in her waist. Her face is on my chest, her hand on my abs.
It is not unpleasant. It is wrong. I’ve been flirting with this woman. Tempting her and myself and fate.
This isn’t me. I don’t want to tie myself down, especially not to anyone capable of hurting me. A simple and good life was all I wanted when I set out on my own years ago. And it was… good.
Until she came along, I had no idea how lonely I was.
Now I want more. I want to open up to someone, share my life with someone, the big moments… and the quiet ones.
Like this. Waking up with her curled into me. I feel useful, wanted, needed. Alive.
This solitude used to be enough for me. Now I don’t know how I could go back to not hearing Thea’s laugh each day, not touching her and teasing her.
She came into my life and made me want things. I either need to pull back now before she takes my heart, or I need to give up the part of myself that thinks I need to remain alone.
My muscles tense beneath her touch. I’m getting way ahead of myself.
I forgot to consider the fact that she would never want someone like me.
The money I needed from this job is gone, I can’t retire yet, and Thea certainly isn’t cut out for a life of espionage.
The woman will be lucky to make it home in one piece.
Thea stirs, sliding her hand up my chest to rest it beneath her cheek.
Her eyelashes fan over her freckled cheeks, her lips almost pouted as if she were having a bad dream. I stupidly want to be the one to protect her, both awake and asleep. But getting her home is as far as I can go. She deserves a normal life.
“…is dead,” she mumbles, and my grip on her tightens. She’s hidden her fear from me, and from herself for the last couple of days, but it haunts her at night.
I’ve made things worse. The truth of the matter sits like a bomb in my stomach, ready to detonate. She’s wrapped in more trouble now, and it’s my fault. I should have handed her off to someone I could trust, then searched for my informant. She wouldn’t be in this position. In my bed. Under my skin.
My phone alarm rings, and I jerk.
Thea jolts, her head popping up. “Don’t kill them!” Her gaze bounces around the room, her eyelid swollen below her stitches.
“I’m here,” I whisper. My thumb slides back and forth over her hip, and she does a lazy blink before she fully snaps back to herself.
“Oh, um…” She shoves her wild hair out of her face. “Sorry, it was just… a horrible dream.”
“Did my abs disappear?” I so desperately want to see her smile. Anything but be sad and scared.
“Ha ha.” She hits my chest, but her expression is humorless. “No. I saw… him.”
I know immediately who she’s talking about. The dead man in her hotel room.
“He stood up and then my dad and Aunt Megan were there and he aimed a gun at them.” She shudders, mumbling something about all the therapy she’s going to need when she gets home.
“Hey,” I whisper, catching her attention. “You’re safe, and you’re going to keep being safe.”
“I know,” she says, doubt lacing her words, her eyes avoiding mine as she scoots off the bed. “I’m going to take a shower.”
She shuts the bathroom door. My thoughts try to follow her, so I pull out Cooper’s belongings once more.
I went through them last night, but there wasn’t much incriminating evidence to be found.
Two credit cards and his license were in his wallet, and a punch pass for some sub sandwich shop.
His phone was a burner, and he used it as such.
He made only one call two days ago. Likely the one he made in the casino.
I’m mad at myself for not recognizing him after spotting him lurking around the cafe in Mexico. He was only looking for Mr. Smith. Thea is in more danger because I’m off my game.
The fact that Cooper had a copy of my CIA identification means he knew I was going to the meeting.
How did he find me? I thought I was doing a good job covering my tracks, but I’ve slipped up somewhere.
That’s two people who’ve located me. What if…
my grandfather sent him to find me and bring me home?
No, he’d come himself. Unless he was sick.
I haven’t seen him for a while. I don’t know what time has done to him.
A familiar pang of guilt tightens my chest. I knew back then leaving wouldn’t solve anything, but I regret not sticking around long enough to at least say my piece.
I exhale. I’m getting off track.
If Cooper wasn’t sent by my grandfather, then he either knew about the meeting or followed Mr. Smith. When Mr. Smith failed to show, he could have thought he missed him and that I already had the drive.
I mutter a curse. Too many assumptions when I need facts. I should have questioned him more. He could have given me something.
I click on the picture app on Cooper’s phone even though I’ve already seen what it entails.
I couldn’t examine them as well as I wanted with Thea near, so now I zoom in.
There are three pictures from the cafe of me and the man looking for illegal medicines.
The first when I sat at his table. The second during our discussion.
Another when he left. Seeing pictures of the meeting only makes it obvious how wrong I was.
The man was clearly only a tourist. The last photo was when Thea had screamed.
I was looking in her direction, and she’s caught in the corner of the photo, pure terror on her face.
The thief is a blur in the opposite corner, and I zoom in on him. It’s too grainy to make out much beyond his black ensemble. His left hand is still in the photo, and there’s a blurry tattoo on his wrist that must go up his arm. I can’t make out much more than that.
There are a few more photos Cooper took of Thea and me on the ship. Thea singing karaoke, and both of us searching for shells.
He sent the last photo to someone.
A single message followed.
Unknown: I’ll be waiting.
Someone who knows exactly what we look like is waiting for us out there.
Or they could be on the boat by now. We docked in San Diego an hour ago.
I wouldn’t be surprised if the Russian sent someone as well.
I have no idea what we could be walking into, which has made coming up with a plan tricky.
Last night I texted Noah, who will be waiting for us at the docks—backup in case things go south.
If the situation gets dire, I’ll send Thea to him. He’ll keep her safe.
I tap my foot and send Noah a text.
Me: Are you here?
Noah: Parking garage. Black Ford Fusion. Black rims. Dodgers sticker on the back window.
Me: Someone is waiting for us. I don’t know who.
Noah: I’ll try to get a bird’s-eye view of the dock. I got your back.
My plan is to get out with the flow of travelers, to hide in plain sight. Then get in with Noah and drive until it’s safe enough to split off. I’ll rent a car and take Thea home.
Thea is still in the bathroom, so I change, then pack both my bag and hers, grabbing some items for her before zipping them up.
Thea walks out of the bathroom, and I toss her clothes at her. “Get changed; we need to leave at the right time.”
She raises a brow. “You know, the word please is commonly associated with requests.”
“Sorry, just anxious.”
“I can tell.” She holds up the garments which, now that I’m looking at them, don’t seem quite right. How am I supposed to understand what women wear these days? “These are two tops,” she says.
“I’m sure you could make it work.”
She grabs her suitcase, dragging the whole thing into the bathroom with her. I bite my tongue to avoid getting frustrated. It’s not her fault people are after us. But it’s taking everything in me to keep calm. I need to get her out safely, and I only have so much time to do so.
Five minutes later, she comes out in denim shorts and a white crop top with a loose-fitting navy button-up open over top.
She looks like she’s ready for a youth baseball game, but also like she should grace the cover of a magazine.
She’s so effortlessly beautiful it’s agonizing that I can’t swoop her up in my arms and kiss her freckled cheeks.
“Does this work? I’m trying to blend in… in case we run into another problem.” She whispers the last word even though we are alone in the room.
“It’s great.” The words get stuck in my throat and I cough to clear it.
She slips into her platform sandals, and I pray we don’t have to run for our lives again soon. The woman doesn’t own practical footwear. “Let’s go.”
I grab both our bags, and we head into the hall and toward the main deck, where I drop Cooper’s belongings in the trash can. A crowd of screaming kids and yawning parents scoop us up in their orbit, taking us toward departure.
“So, if someone comes for us, is this like a ‘save yourself, Thea,’ moment, and I take off while you fight the bad guys?” Thea asks as we stop in line behind a family of six.
I look over at her, my lips twitching. “Then you’ll miss the romance of the moment.”
“That would be unfortunate. Perhaps you could record it?”
“We’ll see if I have the time.”
She smiles, and it makes my heart flip in my chest.
“Seriously though… yes, run. Call the police and get somewhere safe. I have a friend who can help you. He’s waiting for us out there.”
“Sounds like we’ve got a solid plan.” She crosses her arms over her chest, looking far from comforted.
“Just stick with me.”
“For better or worse, right, Mr. Larsen?” she says around a note of fear.
I want to tease “til death do us part”, but stop myself. It’s a real possibility we could be parted soon.
I make eye contact with a woman behind us who watches us with a sincere expression—as the couple she thinks we are, and I allow myself one last chance to pretend.