Seth and I share a look and he gives me a small nod. In unison, we turn for the main warehouse, and take two steps. “Amanda!”

  At the sound of Bear’s voice, Seth and I turn to find Chavez dangling forward, obviously dead. I inhale again and let it out. “Slow-acting poison,” I say. “Which had to be given to him before he got here. And if you’re looking for confirmation that my father is involved in this, we just got it. Not only did my father create that poison, it’s one of his favorite ‘hat tricks,’ as he calls it.”

  Chapter Eight

  Chavez is dead. I can’t change that. I move on. “I need to get to my lab,” I say to Bear once again.

  “Before the locals get here,” Seth says. In agreement, we start walking again.

  “I got it here,” Bear calls out. “Though I’m not sure what there is left to get.”

  Isn’t that the truth, I think, as we move through the warehouse. Riot meets us near the dock door and hands us the keys. Seth palms them and we carry on, both of us focused on getting out of here. The car is parked at the steps by the docks and we walk down a short set of stairs. A black sedan is suddenly headed in our direction. “CIA,” Seth says, glancing over at me. “That was after midnight. I still win the bet.”

  The car stops and a woman gets out. “Let her come to us,” Seth says. “The further from her car, she is the more exposed she is.”

  Happy to comply, I stand next to Seth and wait on her. She’s wearing a blue pantsuit. She’s thin, tall, maybe six feet tall, with long blonde hair tied at her nape, and she is quite beautiful. But I know lethal, and she is lethal. She stops a foot in front of us. “Seth,” she greets. “Amanda. I’m an acquaintance of Nick’s. I’ve killed your kill order.”

  I don’t blink. I don’t react. I’m not sure I even believe her. “Why now, after three years?”

  “I was given proof of your innocence.”

  “What proof?” I ask.

  “Enough,” she says. “And I am sorry this happened to you. I am sorry for you mother. I can’t turn back time. But know this. You’re a welcome contractor, should you wish to be one with this agency. And you are still an agent, should you so choose to be.”

  “I do not.”

  “Understood under the circumstances, but I do have a consolation gift. You’ll be receiving it soon. I hope it pleases you.” She starts to turn. “Nick has a copy of your kill order, amended to show it’s reversed. Just so you know that this isn’t a game. Because I don’t play games.” She walks away.

  Neither Seth nor I speak or move until she’s in her car. “What just happened?”

  He looks over at me, his lips curving. “We won, sweetheart, but we’ll celebrate after we deal with the antidote.”

  We climb into the car as sirens begin to sound in the near distance. “The cavalry is coming,” Seth says, starting the car and setting us in motion.

  It’s not until we’re on the highway that he glances over at me again. “You want to talk about your father?”

  I sink down in the seat. “No. He’s obviously with Franklin. I just want to hunt him and Franklin down.”

  “Then we’ll hunt them down and we’ll win again.”

  And when Seth says those words, I believe we will. Because we are better together and my father, and Franklin, will find that out.

  * * *

  Seth and I walk into the hotel and we’ve just stepped inside the elevator when we hear, “Mr. and Mrs. Jones!”

  Seth catches the door and the front desk attendant offers me a package. “This was left for you about an hour ago.”

  “By who?” Seth asks, as I accept the thick yellow letter-sized envelope.

  “He said he was Mrs. Jones’s father.” She smiles and walks away.

  Seth takes the package from me and lets go of the door. “That could be dangerous.”

  “He knows I’ll use gloves and a mask when I open it,” I say. “It won’t be dangerous, but I’ll be careful.”

  “Any idea what it is?”

  “None. Absolutely none.”

  I stare at the script on the package with my name on it, and it’s my father’s, of this I’m sure. He’s alive. He’s a bastard. But I’m not angry. I’m resolute. The elevator opens on our floor and Seth and I waste no time making our way to the operations room where I have a lab set up in the corner. “Keep Julie out,” I tell him, as I pull on gloves and a mask.

  Seth shuts the door and joins me and I offer him gloves and a mask as well. Once we’re both covered, he pulls a chair up next to me. Steeling myself for whatever surprise is inside, I open the envelope and pull out the contents. On top is a letter, written in my father’s script. I pick it up and hold it so that Seth can read it with me.

  Daughter—

  Enclosed is the antidote. Test it. Use it. It works. I worked for Franklin, but not to be a traitor to my country. I did so because if I did not, someone else would have and they would not have come up with the antidote, which proved elusive. Mexico should not have happened. It was my breaking point and I believe the inspiration for finally developing the antidote. There should be no other danger for this toxin that I have not destroyed, but get the antidote to officials. I cannot be 100% sure I am right on this after Mexico.

  There were a number of people involved in framing us, but all were working for Franklin, and several met their maker tonight. More will follow. You may or may not know who they are. But I still have friends in high places and when questions circulated about you recently, I made sure the person asking questions got the proof needed to clear your name. As for the big sinner in this equation: Franklin. He took your mother from us and he has paid. He’s done. He’s gone. I’ve killed him. The address to find the body is included in this message. I owed that to your mother. I’ve made many mistakes, but she was not one of them. I do believe I was her only mistake.

  Don’t dig for answers you don’t need. I’ve closed this. Leave it closed. Listen to your gut, as your mother would say, and I am certain it will tell you to let the facts lay as they may.

  I may not have been a good husband or father, but I was a good agent and I am an exceptional scientist. But I am done.

  Goodbye and Love,

  Your Father

  I draw in a deep breath and set the letter down, reaching for the remainder of the contents of the envelope. There is a photo of Franklin with his throat slit, with an address printed across the front. And on the next page are the details I need to create the antidote. I tear away my mask and Seth does the same, our gloves following. “I need to test the formula.”

  “Do you have what you need?”

  I scan the written formula. “Yes. And it’s incredibly simple. I can’t believe I didn’t think of this combination. It’s brilliant. It’s going to work, but I need an hour to confirm.”

  “I’ll call Bear and Nick.”

  I nod and start to turn. He catches my leg. “How do you feel?”

  “I don’t know. I’ll figure that out when the dust settles.” He kisses me and stands up, pulling out his phone from his pocket.

  And for just a moment, or two, or ten, I pick up the letter again and read: Goodbye and Love, Your Father. That’s when I knock the envelope to the ground and something falls out from inside. I freeze when I see my mother’s heart-shaped locket. My heart squeezes and I pick it up, opening it to look down at a photo of me, my mother, and my father. The past that is gone, but never forgotten.

  Seth squats down beside me and looks at it and then at me. And I know that he is my future. We are my future.

  * * *

  The antidote works. Franklin is dead. The prints at the hotel are Franklin’s. Nick’s men are on a plane home. Nick, indeed, confirms that he has a copy of my amended kill order. It’s ten in the morning by the time these things fully come together and Seth and I are able to catch our breath and reflect on those things. We are standing in the kitchen at the island with cups of coffee in hand and donuts on the counter, compliments of Bear, who is al
so standing with us, eating most of them. We’re all still in our black attire and in need of a shower and sleep.

  “What’s next for you two?” Bear asks. “Because we’re done with you here and if I have my way, I’m done here as well. This is an FBI wrap-up now. I mean, now that Amanda isn’t a jailbird, you two are free to roam the wild, wild west, or wherever the hell you want to roam.”

  His phone buzzes with a text and he grabs it and looks at it. “I’m not FBI. I need to go have a conversation with the FBI to remind them of that.” He heads for the door. “Don’t leave without letting me say goodbye to Julie.”

  Seth sets his coffee down. “Let’s get out of here.”

  “Now?”

  “Now,” he says. “Let’s go home. You, me, and Julie.”

  “Home,” I say. “Yes. Let’s go home. Let’s pack up before someone stops us.” I dart around the island and Seth catches me, pulling me to him and kissing me. And then, for no reason, two people who rarely laughed before meeting, break out in spontaneous laughter.

  * * *

  It’s a surreal moment when, hours later, I walk into the apartment Seth and I had shared three years ago. After being on the run and alone for so long I’ve come full circle. It’s the place we fell in love. And I don’t see the pale wooden floors, or the dramatic windows. I see memories. I see love. I see home. I unpack Julie and I walk to the living area, my gaze going to the balcony, where Seth and I have spent many hours talking.

  I smile with those memories, walking to the doors, and step outside. Standing at the railing, I smile again as I sense Seth behind me, just like that day. But I turn, and he’s not standing. He’s kneeling in front of me, holding a blue Tiffany box. “This has been three years in the making. You changed me. You made me human. Or maybe you just keep me human. What was good before no longer is without you. I love you. I need you. Three years without you was hell. Will you marry me, Amanda?”

  “I already said yes.”

  “Say it again.”

  “Yes, a million times over. I need you, too. So much. Too much, I think sometimes.”

  “Never too much, sweetheart.” He opens he box, and the ring is stunning, a platinum princess cut, which makes me smile instantly.

  “It’s a princess cut.”

  “I had to do it,” he says, standing up to slip it on my finger. “A princess for my poison princess. And this time, you’ll be Mrs. Cage.”

  “I really like that sounds. It’s pretty perfect. The ring. The name. You.”

  “Having you here, finally home,” he says. “That’s perfect.”

  We turn to the railing, staring out at the city, our city, and we start talking about our future. The possibilities. The open doors. The things we are going to do together.

  And I am home, for perhaps the first time in my life.

  Chapter Nine

  Seth and I go to the museum the next day and we are there for hours, just talking and walking the displays. I don’t know that he will ever love a museum, but we have a great time. It’s funny how doing something with someone you love makes it a different experience. Before Seth, I didn’t know that was possible. For the week that follows, we begin our life. We do things people like us don’t do. We decorate. We shop. We buy Julie beds, collars, and toys to spoil her, and Seth becomes a regular pet daddy. But we both crave more, because more is at the core of our existence. And our kind of “more” doesn’t mean movie tickets or shopping. It means danger and adrenaline. It means I need a good pet sitter.

  Come our second Friday night in the apartment, we have Seth’s employer, Shane Brandon, and his wife, Emily, to dinner. And they are marvelous, just as Seth had told me they were. It’s a casual night. We are all in jeans and T-shirts, and just enjoying the good company. I find the two of them easy to be comfortable around, though I have a feeling many people don’t feel that way with Shane, who is a bit intense. But Emily is just the right balance of tough and soft to fit him well.

  I have moments during the evening when I think that Emily is pregnant, based on a few things she says, mostly while playing with Julie, but Emily doesn’t seem ready to tell. And she doesn’t really know me, but we are becoming fast friends, with the potential to become closer, which is yet another unique experience for me. We’re halfway through the Italian meal the chef we hired for the evening prepared, when Emily’s brother comes up.

  “He helped out recently,” Seth informs her.

  “He did?” she asks, rather earnestly.

  “Yes,” he says. “He did.”

  She wants to know more. I can see that in her eyes and clearly so can Seth, as he adds, “I can’t tell you more than that. Just that he was an asset.”

  “He saved lives,” I add.

  She looks relieved and with a little prodding, and Seth’s obvious knowledge of the situation, Emily ends up sharing her story with me. Telling me about how she’d been forced into hiding over her brother’s involvement with the hacking operation he had worked for. As different as Emily and I are, we share a unique story that explains our instant friendship. Like me, she’d been alone and running for her life. And I hate that I can’t share what I went through to let her know I understand, not just about being alone, but about family steering your life in directions you don’t choose yourself.

  I settle for saying, “Sometimes,” I glance at the men as they talk, and then back at her, “I think we go one place to get to another, and we don’t know our true destination until we’re there.”

  She narrows her eyes on me and then her stare softens with her voice. “I couldn’t agree more.”

  That is the moment we truly bond. The moment that I know this woman, despite all my secrets, will be a friend, who understands me and them.

  Much later, the four of us are sharing coffee on the balcony by the fire, when Shane looks at Seth and says, “You aren’t coming back, are you?”

  Seth sets down his cup. “I think I should supervise Cody from a distance and focus on your personal security over the company’s.”

  “Cody’s good,” Shane says. “He’s not you, but he’s good.”

  “I’m still here for you, Shane. I live a life that doesn’t allow friends, but I call you one. I saw what your brother’s choices did to you and Emily. I don’t ever want my enemies to become yours.”

  “Your enemies are always our enemies,” Shane says, no hesitation, and I am certain that Shane is a force to be feared, when he wants to be. A good ally and friend to have.

  Seth takes my hand in his, and looks between Shane and Emily. “As your enemies are our enemies.”

  Not long after, Seth and I walk them to the door, and Emily hugs me, whispering, “I’ll babysit Julie if you two have to jet off and do the things you can’t talk about.”

  I lean back and look at her. “I like you.”

  She smiles. “I know. Because I like your cat.”

  We laugh and as Seth does the final goodbyes, I find myself back on the balcony, where he joins me. “I like them,” I say. “I would never want them to be hurt because of us, but I didn’t know you were going to leave Brandon Enterprises.”

  “I didn’t either until we were sitting there and I had the same thought as you. They could get hurt. I can’t let that happen.”

  “Agreed, and on another topic: While talking to Emily about her family, I realized that I have open issues I’ve suppressed this past week.”

  “What open issues?”

  “Someone was dirty in the agency. And that someone is why my mother died.”

  “You want to go after that person.”

  “Yes. Consider it a wedding present.”

  We face each other, both resting elbows on the railing. “Your father said to leave it alone,” he reminds me.

  “I really don’t care what my father says.”

  “All right then. I’m in. But as for the wedding gift, we still haven’t picked a wedding date.”

  “We have our license. Let’s do it tomorrow at the justice of
the peace.”

  “I told you. I want more than that for you.”

  “You are my more. Marry me, tomorrow.”

  “If I marry you tomorrow, then we arrange a trip to Rome, and we do it again there. It is, after all, the place we met.”

  “And the first place we killed together,” I joke.

  “Actually, I didn’t kill anyone that night,” he says, “and you don’t know if the guy you poisoned died.”

  “The way you remember details really is romantic.”

  “Is that a yes?”

  “Yes. We get married tomorrow and then again in Rome.”

  * * *

  Seth and I are in a deep sleep the next morning when his phone rings. He grabs it from the nightstand and glances at the number. “Frederick,” he says.

  “The doorman?”

  “One and the same,” he says, answering it on speaker.

  “There’s a very large man downstairs,” Fredrick says, “insisting he speak to you. He calls himself Bear.”

  I sit up and tug the blanket over my naked body. “Bear is here?”

  “Yes, ma’am,” Frederick says. “Shall I send him up?”

  “Yes,” Seth says. “Send him up.”

  I scramble from bed and toward the closet. “I hope nothing is wrong,” I call out, grabbing a pair of leggings and a T-shirt to pull on.

  Seth appears in the doorway in sweats, pulling on a T-shirt. “It’s Bear and the CIA. They want us to take a job.”

  I perk up. “A job.”

  He laughs. “You are dying to get back on that horse, aren’t you?”

  “Alas, I do believe that I am. It’s funny how making your own choices, makes you enjoy something so much more.”

  “Good thing. Because at our level, we are never really out of the agency.” The doorbell rings.

  He heads for the door and I pick up Julie and carry her with me as I follow.

  A few minutes later, Bear has pretty much taken our apartment by storm, as he does the world. He’s inside, holding Julie for a few pets, and then making himself coffee, in all of about sixty seconds flat. Ten minutes later, he downs the hot beverage like water. “I have a gift for you two and then I have to hit the road.” He pulls out an envelope. “It’s a kill order.”