Chapter 43
Logan caught them as they made their way toward the back door of the building, and annoyance flared in Sam. Ophelia was so weary that she was swaying on her feet. She was struggling to keep her eyes open as she leaned heavily into him.
“What?” Sam snapped.
Logan glared at him before directing his attention to Ophelia. “Are you sure you want to do this?”
“Do you honestly think you have any right to question my decisions?” she fired back.
A heavy sigh escaped her. “I’m sure that the last two years of my life were wasted.
I’m sure that I have never for a single moment in my life truly done something just for myself.
” She looked up at Sam from beneath her lashes.
“I’m sure that I want Sam. Surer than I’ve ever been about anything. ”
He smiled at her, stroking his hand over her tangled hair. She’d only been able to finger-comb it after their demonstration, and he got a sort of perverse pleasure over the evidence of how he’d undone her.
Logan’s jaw worked, but he nodded tightly. His gaze flicked up to Sam. “If you hurt her…”
Sam grabbed him by the lapel and hauled him up onto his toes until they were nose to nose.
“If I hurt her? You would speak those words to me? You don’t get to make threats, worm.
You get to kiss her feet and thank her for every breath you’ve taken from the moment I learned of your deceit.
If you’re in the mood for warnings, here’s one for you: if anyone comes after us, if anyone even hints that they think to separate us because of my coding, I will hunt you down like a dog, and I will kill you so slowly that you’ll be begging for the end. Say you understand.”
The man only gaped up at him, his expression a mixture of fear and fury.
Sam shook him hard. “Say you understand.”
“I understand,” he spat, wrenching out of his grip. He turned a bitter look on Ophelia. “For your sake, I hope you’re right about him.”
She bit her bottom lip, and for a moment, he thought she was reconsidering—but she slipped her hand in his and pulled him toward the door.
It was drizzling outside: a miserable, cold sort of rain that he knew would seep down to her bones.
He led her over to the dumpster where Logan had hidden a bag earlier.
He wrenched the plastic trash bag off the duffel, then unzipped it and pulled out his coat.
She objected when he draped it over her, but her protests quieted when he reminded her that the cold wasn’t painful to him as it was to her.
He dressed quickly, stripping out of the uniform and back into his ordinary clothes. They were more of Logan’s hand-me-downs, aside from the pair of boots that Ophelia had bought him. He stuffed the uniform into the trash bag and tossed it back into the dumpster, shouldering the duffel.
Ophelia was staring at him from beneath the shield of her hand as her breath fogged the air.
“What is it?” he called over the patter.
She just smiled, blinking fast, and shook her head.
“Let’s go,” she called back, taking his hand.
He followed her to the end of the alley, where a car awaited them.
Laura rolled down the window. The butterfly-shaped glasses sliding down her nose were tinged pink and glowing with a HUD that was giving feedback on the road. “Get in, losers!”
Ophelia chuckled wearily. She slid into the back seat as he tossed his bag in the trunk. When he slipped in next to her, the doors hushed closed. Warm air blasted over them as Laura eased the car into the sparse early-morning traffic.
“I cannot believe we’re doing this,” Laura said, glancing at them in the rear-view mirror. “You know this can go totally wrong? Like Terminator level wrong?”
“It won’t,” Ophelia said with conviction. She turned in her seat, watching through the back windshield as they got onto the highway and left the city behind. The buildings thinned, and the blanket of night grew thicker, no longer interspersed with hundreds of lights.
Suddenly, she began to laugh, tears welling in her eyes. When she looked over at Sam, she was beaming ear to ear.
“We did it,” she breathed. “We really did it.”
He caught her when she lunged at him, tackling him against the far door as she peppered kisses all over his face.
He began to laugh with her, amazed by her second wind and pleased with the attention.
Eventually, she ran out of steam and curled up on his lap, her cheek pressed against his shoulder as she dozed.
They drove all through the night. The car finally stopped close to dawn at the end of a long, winding gravel drive in front of an aging farmhouse. Ophelia roused, blinking hard to clear her vision.
“We’re here,” he murmured.
She leaned forward and thanked Laura in soft tones, hugging her over the back of the seat. “Do you want to come in?”
Laura met his gaze in the mirror. “Mm, not this time. You two lovebirds can have it all to yourself.” She grabbed Ophelia’s wrist as she pulled away. “If you need anything, if you realize this isn’t working or if he scares you…”
Ophelia patted her hand. “It’ll be okay—but thank you. For everything.”
He helped her out of the car and grabbed the bag. “Just a minute,” he said, bracing her against the porch railing as he returned to the car.
Warily, Laura rolled down her window.
He leaned down to meet her gaze. “I will not forget this. You owed us nothing, but you risked your job to help us. If the time comes that you have need of my skills, call me. I will come.”
She blinked, wide-eyed. “O-okay.” When he straightened, she called out to him. “Hey!”
He ducked down again.
“Be good to her.”
“Always.” And for once, he was not lying.
The car rolled away, crunching gravel beneath the tires.
When he turned around, Ophelia was gone. The front door was open, the house beyond faintly illuminated by a distant light. He went inside, locking the door behind him, and followed the sound of running water.
Ophelia was sitting in a claw-footed tub as the spray of the shower rained over her. He stripped down and joined her, tenderly washing her as she seemed to slip in and out of consciousness.
“Really wanted a shower,” she mumbled.
He snorted. She flinched a bit when he reached between her thighs to rinse away his dried cum.
“Sorry,” he murmured.
She huffed a laugh and shrugged.
“Worth it, then?”
She hummed in answer, smiling. “But that was the last time in front of a crowd, if you don’t mind.”
“I mind a little, but I’ll let you have it.”
She laughed in earnest then, prying one eye open to peer at him. “Don’t tell me it’s not enough to be a sex god unless everyone knows it, too.”
“Oh, everyone knows that anyway. It’s showing you off that I enjoyed so much.”
She flushed, kicking halfheartedly at his leg. He turned off the water and carried her out of the shower, wrapping her in a towel that looked brand new.
“Have you been here already?” he asked.
“Mm, not me. I paid someone to furnish the place. I didn’t want to come without you.” She nuzzled her cheek against his shoulder. “If you don’t like it, we can sell it. It was just the first halfway decent place that came up, and I was in a hurry.”
“No,” he said immediately. “It’s ours, now.”
She smiled, twining her fingers in the wet hair at his nape. “Mmkay.”
He wandered a bit before he found the master bedroom, sparsely furnished with a king-sized bed and a single end table. He tucked her beneath the covers and slid in beside her, dragging her closer until she was draped across her chest.
“You’ll be here when I wake up, right? This isn’t all some fever dream?”
“I’ll be here in the morning and every morning after for the rest of your life. You’ll never get rid of me, Ophelia.”
She sighed, her breath tickling the damp skin of his chest. “Good.”
He smiled down at her, gently finger-combing her damp hair.
“Hey, Sam?”
“Hm?”
“Welcome home.”
He clutched her closer, burying his nose in her hair and breathing her in deep.
“Welcome home, Ophelia.”
He felt her smile against his skin.