“The closest we’ve been,” Abe said. “There’s an auction tomorrow. We think Bernard’s making a move. If we don’t grab him, we’ll be grabbing another thief the authorities will be able to use to get to him.”
“And that’s why I sent the email to you,” Andrew said.
“What are you going to tell the Bureau?” Sam asked.
“I don’t believe I have anything to report given that this call went to voicemail and we never actually spoke,” he said. “Correct?”
Abe released a sarcastic-sounding breath. And he grinned slowly. “Correct.”
“And Sam?” Andrew asked.
“Yes, sir?”
“Just give me a call when you get him.”
41
Sloane
I woke to sun slanting across my pillow. I caught the time—just past 6:00 am—and swung my hand out to the space next to me. Which was empty.
Rubbing my hand across my face, I sat up, blinked again. The door to the balcony was open, the smell of fresh coffee wafting in, and it didn’t take much to guess that Abe Royal was probably sitting out there, admiring the view, and thinking about today.
The day.
The day we were officially going after Bernard. And with the unofficial approval of the Deputy Director of the FBI.
There was a murmuring to my left—Delilah, talking in her sleep. She and Henry had fallen asleep on the bed next to ours while Freya and Sam had crashed out on the trundle bed and couch. The room had the appearance of the morning after a college party; people sprawled out, snoring, having only gone to bed a few hours earlier. Jacked up on adrenaline and slightly nervous after being chased by guards, the entire Codex team had crashed in our room after discussing plans and strategies for tonight’s big event. Running a hand through my snarled hair, I looked around at these four detectives who were already sneaking their way into my heart.
On the deck, Abe sat in a chair with a cup of coffee, staring at the view with a distracted, nervous look. The newly duplicitous organ in my chest slammed against my rib cage at the sight of him with sleep-tousled hair and a hint of stubble. After the rest of the team had fallen asleep, he had dragged me against his chest and cradled me there all night—nose against the crown of my head, arms wrapped tight. I had dropped immediately into a sweet, dreamless sleep.
I padded barefoot across the deck and gave him a silly smile. “Good morning, man-on-vacation.”
Abe swung me onto his lap and buried his face in my hair. “Good morning, Ms. Argento.”
His voice was scratchy with sleep, and exhaustion was etched around his eyes. “Let me guess,” I said. “You stayed awake and watched over everyone last night.”
“Leaders protect their team,” he said, nonchalant. There was nothing nonchalant about this man guarding the people he was afraid to fully love. “And you’re awake early.”
“Who can sleep on such a big day?” I said, brushing a strand of hair from his forehead.
He rested his chin on my shoulder and stared past me. We sat in silence for a minute, gently rocking back and forth. The chaos of our instant attraction was as multi-dimensional as a diamond, dazzling and sharp, electric and erotic. But then soft and muted, comfortable and safe. Abe held me tighter, and I nuzzled my lips against his temple.
“What’s wrong?” I asked quietly.
“What if I made a mistake?” he asked. “My whole team flies here. We get all excited that we’re going to capture this mastermind who has evaded prosecution for years. The Deputy Director of the goddamn FBI puts his complete faith in me. And everything, all of it, could be for nothing.” Another pause, another gentle rock. “What kind of person does that? Keeps hunting a white whale that won’t be found?”
For a while, we watched pedestrians on their way to work, buses and cars, the opening of shops. All the normal things that occur on the morning before a busy Friday.
“I used to steal from my parents,” I said, gulping around my usual resistance to share. His body went taut, face turning toward mine. “There was a summer where we worked amusement parks for fast cash. There’s no real skill to that con, just taking advantage of people who are sun-drunk and happy and usually have lots of cash in their pockets.”
That summer I remembered watching those close-knit families, out for the day to simply have fun together, and not understanding how they existed. The more I saw them—the laughter, the teasing, chasing each other with ice cream cones—the more my brain went into freak-out mode. Something’s not right. Not about them. About me.
“My parents were running this photography scheme,” I said. “They took photos while copying people’s credit card and personal information to use for stealing identities. Later, they’d unleash me on people waiting in those long rollercoaster lines and watch me like a hawk as I pickpocketed loose cash. Working like that, working fast, you’re not grabbing a certain amount of cash, you’re grabbing whatever bill you can pinch between your fingers. So I’d slip out hundreds of dollars without the person knowing.” I paused, remembering how powerful I felt to finally control even the tiniest amount of my destiny. “I couldn’t give it all back. I needed my parents to believe I was earning my keep. But in the intervening seconds between the mark’s pockets, my fingers, and my parents’ hands, I’d steal what I could from the pile and return it.”
Abe’s brow furrowed, and I couldn’t read the look in his eye. “That sounds very dangerous given what your parents’ reaction could have been.”
I smiled, a little sad. “I didn’t have anything else to do as a kid besides practice. And it made me feel good. It was small change, literally, what I could return to them. But in our quest to balance the scales of justice, every act shifts the weight.”
His hand idly stroked up and down my spine. “If we don’t catch him tonight, we tip the scales the wrong way.”
“If we don’t catch him tonight,” I countered. “It’s only because we’ve caught someone else in his chain of criminals. Maybe it’s a smaller shift. It’s still a shift.” I leaned in, kissed the tip of his nose. “And given the extraordinary circumstances that have put you and I on this path, together, twelve hours away from going after what we want the most…” I shook my head. “I’m not a person who believes in fate. But something big is going to happen tonight. Can’t you feel it?”
His gray eyes searched mine. “I feel it,” he murmured. He leaned in to steal a kiss, fingers sliding through my hair to hold me still. My lips parted, my tongue met his, I inhaled the scent of his skin and the roughness of his rare stubble. “I feel it,” he repeated, this time with lips caressing mine.
“Well, good fucking morning,” Delilah said from the doorway, startling us both. I jumped and laughed when Freya appeared next to her, both of them clapping.
“Good thing you got that shared hotel room for you and Sloane, boss,” Freya smirked. “You know, for safety purposes or whatever.”
“Am I to be accosted by my agents on my own vacation?” Abe asked.
Delilah snorted. “A hundred pots of coffee are on their way to our room. And breakfast.”