Total pages in book: 43
Estimated words: 39756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 199(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 39756 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 199(@200wpm)___ 159(@250wpm)___ 133(@300wpm)
“What the hell took you so long? He could have been killed!” he shouted.
Stephen squeezed him. “It’s okay. I knew they would reach us in time.”
Charlie paled. “We did cut it too close. West had trouble finding a good line of shot. Busting through the door without the gunman neutralized was too risky. If he flinched and squeezed the trigger…” Charlie left the rest unsaid. Stephen knew. It had been close.
“It’s okay. I’m alive and safe.”
Edison helped them up and ushered them out a rear door of the building to a waiting car that Stephen didn’t recognize. Charlie had been kind enough to stand in their line of sight as they left the apartment, blocking their view of the bodies. He didn’t want to see. Didn’t want to know. There was no doubt in his mind that he was going to have plenty of nightmares in the future without needing to add all the gore.
Right now, all he cared about was getting Ehren somewhere safe and quiet so he could take care of his man.
Stephen slid into the back seat with Ehren, who immediately wrapped his arms around him. He was only vaguely aware of Edison and Charlie climbing into the front seats.
“I’m so sorry. I’m so very sorry, Stephen. This is all my fault. You could have been killed and it’s my fault,” Ehren repeated it over and over again, his face pressed into Stephen’s neck.
It took some work, but Stephen finally managed to get Ehren to meet his gaze. “None of this is your fault.”
“You came here to help me with some stupid puzzle. You certainly didn’t expect to nearly die.”
Stephen sighed. “The moment I saw Charlie, I knew that option was on the table.”
“What?” Ehren squawked.
“Charlie deals in dangerous and deadly things. He and his friends are all former CIA and former special forces. This is what they’re good at.”
“But…”
“I knew if the whole team was here, things were dangerous, but I never doubted their ability to keep us safe.” Stephen cupped his cheeks and smiled. “I knew what I was getting into, and I stayed because I would never let you go through this alone.”
“Thank you,” Ehren whispered.
Stephen pressed a slow, lingering kiss to his lips. “Anything for you.” And he meant it.
Ehren relaxed slowly as Edison drove them through the tangle of streets, winding their way toward the hotel. As Stephen began to recognize where they were, Ehren sat up and swore.
“What’s wrong?” Charlie demanded, all of them going on high alert.
“I just realized that I lost the damn dates I bought for us.”
A loud bark of laughter jumped from Stephen’s throat. He wrapped his arms around Ehren’s shoulders and pulled him back into him. “That means you owe me many, many dates.”
“Really?” Ehren tilted his head up, revealing a playful smile.
“Definitely. And I think one of our first dates needs to be a stop in Greece on the way home. I think I’ve earned the right to meet your parents along with all these dates.”
“Yes! I love this plan!” Ehren shouted.
Charlie snorted. “They must have knocked something loose when they grabbed you. That’s insane.”
No, not crazy. Committed. Meeting the parents might be scarier than being held at gunpoint, but he wanted it all. He wanted to share everything with Ehren, and he couldn’t wait to get started on that life with him.
Chapter Twelve
Ehren stood beside Stephen in the large white warehouse in Istanbul, his stomach twisting and knotting like a snake tightening its coils. He felt horribly underdressed in this strangely austere setting. It was like a museum—or better, a mausoleum. There was no sound, no stir of the air, and not a single speck of dirt anywhere. Making it the perfect conditions for storing priceless art.
It had taken Kairo another day to locate the storage leasing agreement because his uncle had actually gotten his mother to put the contract under her name while he paid for the storage. He didn’t want to know how Kairo had tracked down the information if it was under his mother’s name; but in this case, the less he knew, the better.
He planned to have a long talk with his mother about how she’d failed to mention that her brother had requested she put an art storage rental account under her name, though. Of course, the account had existed for more than twenty years. It was likely she’d forgotten about it completely.
“You okay?” Stephen asked, breaking the oppressive silence of the place.
They’d traveled to Istanbul early that morning so they could have time to check out the collection. Whatever weariness they’d suffered had burned off in the excitement of finally using the damn key.
“Yep,” he replied, his smile maybe a little too wide.
“There’s nothing to worry about. Your uncle was totally legit,” Charlie said on the other side of him.