Page 29

“Yes, Agent Powell, that seems much more important. After all, I’m being very cooperative. It’s not like you’ll never see me again.” Therese smiles and extends her hand, ending the interview.

Only we both know it’s not over. It’s just delayed by pressing matters that involve more dangerous fish to fry. A squawk of static from Powell’s flesh-colored earpiece confirms that. He turns on his heel, holding up one finger.

Just a minute.

Therese has given every agency in the country precious minutes, and the agencies have proven untrustworthy.

I kick myself because I failed her, too.

“Can you get me some water? And maybe something like plain crackers—if we bought any?”

“I’ll go check,” I whisper, helping her back into a chair. Of course, I don’t have the few items I had in the cart. I don’t have her hard lemonade when she could really use a drink or even a vague idea of what to cook after this hellacious day.

As the sun sets, I stalk into the kitchen and lean heavily against the counter. A hard bulge presses into my hip—and it isn’t the fun sort of bulge. It’s in the wrong spot, anyway.

Fuck. I’m a shoplifter, too. I still have the ring I wanted to buy Therese in my pocket.

Once the dust settles and she has a moment to think, she’ll blame me for failing to keep her safe, no matter what she said in the heat of the moment when she was newly rescued and finally safe.

My daring rescue is all well and good, but it wouldn’t have been necessary if I’d guarded her better in the first place.

I take a long time getting her that ice water.

HEATHERINGTON TALKS with Powell before Powell storms out the door, letting it slam behind him.

“Bad mood?” I don’t care if Powell is miserable at the moment. I gently tease my hair out with tentative fingers. My hands still don’t want to cooperate, and my scalp is tender. It even hurts to swallow. I shiver as I recall the hard press of metal against my skin.

“Between you and me, the oversights that occurred are serious, and Powell was your handler. In this business, you have to trust your team, but... Well. Trust but verify, that’s my motto.

” Heatherington sits on the edge of the recliner, his apologetic face turning embarrassed.

“This is probably a bad time, but maybe it’ll give you a laugh. God knows we could use one.”

I grimace. “It would take a team of stand-up comedians to get me to laugh tonight, but go ahead.”

“Do you remember Agent Holloway?”

My face shows my confusion.

Heatherington prods, “The agent who stepped up and did your service?”

“Oh, him! He was very good. I almost believed it was real.”

Heatherington doesn’t laugh. “That’s because he is the real deal. He’s a lay minister and licensed officiant. He took the online courses to get legally certified to perform marriages in the tri-state area so he could be the officiant at his nephew’s wedding this summer.”

The world tips.

Is this the sign I’ve been waiting for? The one I wouldn’t admit I want? “You mean Reggie and I... We’re legally married?”

“What?” Reggie's startled bark coincides with a clatter and splash.

I turn to see Reggie with a wet splash on his shirt, a plastic cup sitting in the middle of ice cubes, and a spreading wet stain on the carpet. “The man who married us is actually an officiant. Licensed to marry,” I inform him, my voice carefully calm.

“Right, but you didn’t have a marriage license. Just thought it was funny. If you’d filed for a license, or even a self-uniting license—”

“What’s that?” Reggie and I blurt in unison.

“Oh, it’s a Quaker thing, but a while ago the ACLU won a lawsuit so non-Quakers can practice it, too.

Basically, if you have a self-uniting license, all you need to do is make your vows and exchange your rings in front of two witnesses.

” Heatherington suddenly blushes. “Guess who helped Holloway study for his exams? I know more marriage trivia from New York, Pennsylvania, and New Jersey than you can shake a stick at.” He ends with a placating grin.

“I don’t know if it’s legal in New York, but you were also married by a federal agent, so, maybe. .. I’d have to look it up.”

I force a smile in return. “I see. Well. That is funny. Isn’t that funny, Reggie?”

“Sure is. Look, Heatherington, Therese’s probably exhausted and feels dirty.”

I glare for a second, but he’s right. I feel like I’m caked in filth after being near those bastards and also from that cesspit of a motel room.

Reggie gives me a hint of a smile. “That’s how I usually feel after a mission goes sideways,” he mumbles with the cutest little shrug, wide shoulders suddenly hunched.

“If we could just have the clothing you’re wearing for fibers, I’ll be out of your hair. Oh, and speaking of hair,” Heatherington holds up a little baggy from his breast pocket, “let me have some.”

“THEY REALLY SHOULD have done all of that at the scene,” Reggie says, turning on the shower.

“We weren’t at the scene.”

“True.”

Conversation that flowed in relief is now stiff and stilted. Confusion about the next steps hangs over us after Powell and Heatherington muddy up plans made based on instinct.

Reggie would tell you to trust your instinct, I scold myself, stepping into the bathroom after him, wearing one of his shirts as a makeshift nightgown-slash-robe since one of my few outfits is now in an evidence bag on its way to who knows where.

“Teri? You want some privacy? Or some help scrubbing up?” Reggie offers, one hand lightly brushing the back of my arm.

“I’m too sore to—”

“Honey, you never have to sleep with someone if you’re not up for it.

Just telling you how I feel about it, in case Delgado or some other jerk told you a different story.

I—I know you might not feel the same, but I love you.

Care about you. That won’t change on my end, even if it has to change on yours. ”

My eyes well up without warning. “Why wouldn’t I feel the same?” I whisper.

“I let you get hurt.” Reggie thrusts his hand into his pocket with an angry grunt, swollen knuckles catching on the scratchy denim.

“I was so busy looking for the one I thought you’d like best that I didn’t even realize how long you’d been in there.

” His visibly cracked hand plants a small box on the edge of the bathroom sink with a slam.

“What’s that?” I know it’s jewelry, but I’m confused. Why was he buying me anything?

“It’s your wedding ring.” Reggie opens the box and holds it out to me.

“ I want you to wear my ring. Not his. I want to be your husband—even if it’s dangerous, even if I fail.

Even if I’m a monster, not a human.” I can see his throat rise and fall with a hard swallow.

“Now’s not the time to ask you, but in case you want to know.

.. The offer stands. It’ll stand forever.

And if you give me a chance to keep you safe my way, I’ll out-maneuver any agency or bad guy ever.

I can’t spoil you like a queen, Teri, but I’ll sure as hell treat you like one. ”

Matteo charmed me with compliments and praise, but it was all superficial. It’s funny how you notice those things later. “Oh, Reggie.”

I lean forward to see the ring he holds out. I know it came from the superstore, not some fancy boutique jeweler, but when I see it, I gasp.

It’s so unique. So perfect! The silver and blue shine brightly. It’s clean and simple.

It’s not gaudy.

“A fresh start.” That’s what it is. It’s a new start for both of us. “I want to wear this.”

“It’s yours.” Reggie pops it from the velvet casing and holds it out.

I drop Matteo’s huge diamond into the box in its place. I’ll sell it one day. Maybe to buy Reggie a ring. As he slips the ring onto my newly bare finger, I look at the way my grandfather’s ring perches perfectly on his finger.

Reggie needs a fresh start—but he also needs to belong to someone. He needs family, and that ring shows I want him in mine. He’s always belonged to us... with us. We’ve been tied together by invisible strings all of our existences.

“Well. I’ll leave you to it.” Reggie squeezes my fingers before he tries to step past me and get to the door.

I won’t let him walk away from me. I’m not going to walk away from him, either.

“We’re done running unless we run together.” In the fogging mirror above the sink, I catch a glimpse of both of us. Neither of us looks our best, but the smile on Reggie's face and the way his eyes glisten make him the most beautiful sight in the world.

“Thank you.” Reggie claims my mouth with a gentle kiss.

“Thank you.” I hesitate just for a second, then pull Reggie's ring off and put my new ring back in his hand. The confusion and pain on his face is short-lived, but it breaks my heart all the same.

“When we get where we’re going, let’s do this for real.

This is practice, even if it’s not legal without a piece of paper.

I, Therese LaFontaine, take you, Reginald Gray, to be my lover, my life partner, and my safe place to hide.

I take you as my rescuer. I promise,” I cough and rub my tender throat, “I promise never to run without pulling you with me. I promise to be your safe place, too, even though you might not need one, since you’re the safe haven for so many.

I promise that instead of leaving, we’ll fight whatever it is like the badasses we are—even if you’re really all the badass and I just pretend. Oh. And I promise to love you.”

THE WOMAN OF MY DREAMS is saying the most beautiful wedding vows in the world while wearing my white undershirt and nothing else.

And just when I think I’m going to die of happiness, she puts her grandfather's ring back on my finger and says, “I wish you’d keep this one. I think my grandfather always considered you family, and he would have been proud to have you legally, truly in the family that you’ve saved a hundred times. I know I am.”

How can I compete with that level of beauty? She didn’t even rehearse!

But words flow. “Therese LaFontaine, I, Reginald Gray, take you to be my wife. I take you in danger and safety, wealth and poverty, through problems and solutions. I promise to love you and never run unless you’re coming with me.

I promise to honor how damn smart you are and never treat you like a showpiece—even if you’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.

You are my soulmate. Mein neshama —my life force.

Without you, I could not love—and with you, I will never love another.

You have made an empty, dark spot in me a glowing flame.

I’ll always keep that love burning bright for you. ”

Therese gives me a half-sobbing little hiccup that makes me want to smother her with kisses, but I can’t until she’s healed for a few days. I smile. The next time we make love might be on our actual honeymoon.

Careful of her sore hands, I slide the ring on her finger, lost in my own makeshift vows. They’re from the heart, but they’re nowhere as stunning as Therese’s. “Stay married to me?” I murmur, raising her hands to my lips.

“I will. Love me?”

“I do.”