Total pages in book: 95
Estimated words: 91452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 457(@200wpm)___ 366(@250wpm)___ 305(@300wpm)
He shrugged. “It’s never as exciting as you think it’s going to be.”
“I, for one, am always thankful for that,” Darius chimed in. “And from what I’m reading, it looks like Fang killed Peter Barrows, the bodyguard. There’s a video of his last moments that I’m going to get rid of. No one ever needs to see that.”
I texted Aaron Sutter to let him know that the person responsible for Peter Barrows’s death was himself dead.
“At least Aaron can let the family know.” It would perhaps bring some comfort.
Moments later, Darius’s phone pinged. “Oh look,” he huffed out.
The text was from Everett Burke himself, the assistant director of the CIA, a thank-you for the capture of Ming Gray. He was certain she would be a font of helpful information.
“Okay, so maybe you won’t owe him one,” Darius said, glancing up from the computer screen. “Maybe you get out of this without a scratch.”
“Really?” I said drolly.
We left before the Hong Kong Police Force showed up, because answering questions about how the CIA had removed one of their citizens was not going to put us on the good list. It was called rendition for a reason.
Darius, Dante, and I headed back down the road, retracing the earlier route we’d taken through the woods to where the car was parked.
“So what happens to the money Gray took?” Dante asked me.
“Owen took them to the cleaners,” I said, yawning. “The worm he used to track Suwan’s money was a hydra that infiltrated all of Gray’s bank accounts. It siphoned off her syndicate’s millions and reallocated them to needy causes all over Thailand.”
“No shit.” Dante chuckled. “That’s awesome. How much?”
“Minus Suwan’s four million in crypto, a little over a quarter billion. All anonymously donated to many, many worthy causes.”
“And no one will think to look at you for that?”
“No. For all anyone knows, Gray mismanaged funds and lied about what she had and what her people should expect.”
Dante said, “I like how that worked out. I appreciate the karma.”
I grinned. “I knew you would.”
It was always easier to say goodbyes when you had a plan to see your favorite people again.
“Thanksgiving in Maine it is,” I told Dante, hugging him tight at the departure terminal, closing my eyes for a second and leaning on him. “Please give Noah my best.”
“I will,” he whispered, hugging me back. “Give Owen a kiss for me.”
“I will,” I promised.
Darius agreed to Thanksgiving as well, and when he hugged me, I felt the last of the tension finally leave me.
This was over.
“Start living,” Darius husked, giving me a last clench before letting me go.
I was planning on it.
I waved as they pulled away, then walked into the terminal. I called Owen from the plane.
“Are you hurt?” he asked worriedly.
“No. Not a mark on me.”
“You mean, no new marks on you.”
“Yes. That’s what I mean.”
He took a breath. “Is it over?”
“It is absolutely over.”
“You’re certain?” Of course he would double-check. If our roles were reversed, so would I. “No one’s trying to kill you.”
“Not at the moment,” I said dryly.
“Jared,” he warned me.
“I promise you, we’re in the clear.”
I heard his breath catch. “Yeah?”
“Yeah.”
“You sound tired.”
“I think it hasn’t sunk in yet that we can go home.”
“Well, don’t go home yet. Come pick me up first.”
“That’s my plan.”
“Good. I can’t wait to see you.”
I felt the same.
It was very early in the morning when I returned to the villa. Darius’s men had already departed, but there was still a retinal scan before the front door opened. It was comforting.
And there was Owen, asleep on the couch in the living room. I didn’t want to wake him. He needed his rest—we’d talked last at a ridiculous hour of the morning—but I suspected that not waking him would be a mistake.
I crouched down beside him and kissed his forehead. When his eyes drifted open, all I saw was warmth and love. I was a lucky man.
“I was thinking,” he said, his voice gravelly with sleep, “that when we get home, we should go to the pound and get a dog. I’ve wanted one, but I’ve been putting it off, not knowing what would happen with us.”
“That’s a good plan. I love that plan.”
“Okay,” he said.
I leaned down, he opened his arms, and then we were hugging. It was so good, so warm, so new, yet familiar at the same time. I wanted to stay there forever.
“Lie down,” he prodded me, and I didn’t question him. Instead, I snuggled in right there on the couch, and we were tangled in seconds. I toed off my shoes, sighed deeply, and closed my eyes. “Oh yes, this is perfect,” he whispered in my ear.
And it was.
I called the ambassador the next day, thanked him for his assistance, and told him I was leaving. He thanked me for letting him know and told me to please consider waiting until he transferred to return.