Chapter 26 #2
“There,” I snarl at Guchkov while everyone stares in shock. “Now do you believe me? Tell your men. Tell them there’s nothing left to recover. Tell them to abort right now. It’s too late for you—the police are coming—but you can still give your team a head start to get the hell out of the country.”
He considers it for a few stark seconds with his mouth hanging open, his eyes dark and tortured. With the egg obliterated, there’s nothing left to fight over.
No point in sticking around, risking his son, who’ll be wanted for murder if daddy tells them to execute innocents in cold blood.
It’s still a gamble.
I don’t know how much a man like Guchkov cares about his family, but the vacant, killing silence says he might.
Finally, he nods, and I press the button on the radio.
This time, when he grumbles into it, his tone seems different.
Defeated. Resigned.
A younger, startled voice barks back in Russian.
Guchkov repeats his words slowly, then slumps down under my weight.
Behind us, through the ruined door hanging half off its hinges, clattering footsteps.
The cavalry comes late to the party. The SWAT team rushes in a second later in full tactical gear, swinging their guns, demanding everyone stay down.
As I step off Guchkov and throw my hands in the air, sinking to my burning knees, I smile.
“How did you know?” Cleo asks in the weak evening sunlight.
We’re sitting on the steps outside the police station. It’s been a long damn day of questions, statements, and dealing with the cops’ suspicions until they were satisfied we weren’t involved in trafficking black market artifacts ourselves.
Well, they finally know I’m innocent. Cleo, they never suspected.
Not when she went through so much to find the egg a permanent home, like Talbot and Fairfax confirmed.
“How did I know what?” I ask.
She nudges my shoulder. “Back there. You could’ve gotten people killed. But you never hesitated.”
“That was always a risk. No better options, so I had to take the ones I had. Sometimes, that’s how it goes,” I admit, tilting back to face the sky.
Anything feels easier than looking at her, knowing I destroyed her inheritance.
The last thing Leonidas left her, and it’s gone.
I don’t understand why she sounds softer now. She has every reason to hate me forever.
“Well, it paid off, hero man.” Her knee nudges mine. “We’re insanely lucky.”
We’re not, but I bite my tongue.
Instead, I sigh and glance over at her.
Two big brilliant violet-blue eyes meet mine.
No anger there. Not yet. Surprising.
She deserves the truth, though, so I’d better cough up everything.
“I looked into Black Talon before. The boot print they left in the mud at your grandfather’s place from the break-in was a good match,” I say quietly.
“I knew Guchkov’s son, Sergi, was along for the ride.
He’d have his most trusted people in place for a heist this big on US soil.
I figured he’d be managing one of the hostage sites. ”
“So you gambled on that?”
“Once the egg was destroyed, there was nothing worth risking his son for. Nothing worth risking his own life. He knew the cops were coming and the FBI would be on their heels. It was in his best interests to get everyone out ASAP.”
“God, I can’t believe it worked,” she whispers, shivering.
I slide her a long glance, hating the pensive look on her face. As if she did anything wrong.
“It makes me sick to the stomach, what I did.”
“What? Save people, you mean?”
“I fucked over your inheritance—and I take full responsibility, Clee. Shit, if it takes me the rest of my life, I’ll make it up to you.” I clear my throat, easing the lump of guilt there. “I’m so sorry. If there was any other way, I wouldn’t have touched it.”
All day, I’ve been playing it back in my head, the whole ugly scene from different angles. Trying to see if there was any alternative.
“Holden, no. It’s okay,” she whispers, putting a hand on my arm.
I shake my head. “It’s not, woman. It never should’ve come to this. If I’d just seen it coming sooner—”
“But you did,” she insists, this time taking my hand so I’m looking at her. Her eyes are wet, and that hollows me out more. “I was the one who didn’t let you stop this. If I’d listened and done things differently—”
“It’s not your fault, Clee. Who the fuck knows. They might’ve harmed people if it had gone down differently.”
“Exactly. That’s why it can’t be your fault either.” She presses the back of her hand to my cheek. “You did the right thing.”
Goddamn, that stings.
I blink at her slowly.
She just gave up the last thing I ever expected to hear, and hell—I know I don’t deserve it. My mangled ego agrees.
“I destroyed the egg,” I snarl. “Right or wrong, I pulled the trigger.”
“You saved a lot of lives. You saved me.” Her smile shines like the sun, indifferent to my guilt. “I know, Holden. Just like I know you showed me what matters—not just in there, playing hero. That was terrifying, and you were incredible, but you showed me by being brave. Just by being you.”
I shift my weight, fighting the urge to snatch back my hand.
A hot tear rolls down her cheek, and I’ve never wanted to hold her like now. That itch, that thirst runs to my bones.
“Clee, you’re making no fucking sense. But I appreciate you.”
She laughs, pressing her lips to the back of my hand.
“In case you hadn’t noticed, my future was never about big money or traveling the world. I just didn’t know it until today.”
“Know what?”
“That what Gramps left was more than just a priceless artifact. He left me a blueprint to figure my shit out.”
“What blueprint? I destroyed it.”
“The egg, Holden. That’s what’s gone. Nothing else.” She puts her hand over her mouth and gives a tired laugh.
“You should be pissed at me,” I whisper. “You should be furious. I thought you’d use me as your punching bag after what happened, and I would’ve gladly let you.”
“Holden,” she whispers brokenly, taking my face in both hands and holding my head still. “Sometimes, you’re an idiot. And I love you anyway.”
“Tell me something I don’t know—”
I stop as her words catch up with me.
Love?
“What PopPop left me when he died—what’s worth way more than the egg—is you.” To hammer her point home, she climbs on my lap then and kisses me reverently.
Right there on the steps outside the precinct with the wind in her hair.
Movie shit.
Her mouth is warm, tongue thick and sweet like honey, and I never had a prayer.
Against my better instincts, I grab her hips and sink into this glorious insanity.
I kiss her back like I’ll find my soul in her lips.
Hell, maybe I will.
Even if it’s raw emotion, even if she changes her mind tomorrow, I’m not losing this moment.
“It’s the shock talking,” I mutter between kisses, pulling her closer anyway until she’s flush against my chest. “You’re not thinking clearly.”
“I don’t want to. And I don’t want the egg, Holden. I don’t need anything else.”
“You can’t give up your dreams,” I growl.
“I can adjust what I thought I wanted. Things change.”
I kiss her again, pathetically addicted to her taste.
“Clee, if you’re going to change your mind, don’t do it yet,” I rasp against her mouth. “Let me savor the moment. Let me fucking love you.”
She smiles and rakes her nails down the back of my neck, and it feels divine.
Hard to believe this morning we sat across from each other at the breakfast table in surly silence, both of us trying to pretend we didn’t give a shit about the ugly way we ended.
Now we’re here and none of it feels real.
I think I need a few more kisses to find out, to wake up from this dream.
She kisses me until it hurts before she pulls back. “Convinced yet? Or will you just keep denying I know what I want?”
“I’m not going to question my luck, or you,” I say, claiming her lips again.
After today, I won’t dare question fate and its warped sense of humor.