Seven months later . . .
“Thank you,” Bryce Ryan said for the fifth time, shaking my hand after our interview.
“You’re welcome.” Though her interview questions had been slightly predictable, at least she had been sincere, unlike a few of the journalists I’d met with these last two weeks.
“I’d love to meet for a drink sometime. Do you have any plans this evening?”
I glanced at my watch. Five o’clock on the nose. I considered brushing her off, going home and taking a long hot bath before ordering a pizza and eating the entire pie alone, but I’d made myself a promise to make new friends. In all the months I’d been back in Seattle, I hadn’t made any progress, so even though I was exhausted, I was going to accept.
“No plans.” I smiled. “I’d love to meet for a drink. There’s a great wine bar around the corner. How does that sound?”
“Perfect! I’ll leave you to collect your things and then I’ll meet you out front. Fifteen minutes?”
I nodded and wasted no time getting my purse from the dressing room and going outside, sighing with relief the moment I left the studio. The fresh summer air blew across my face as I tipped my head to the sky and let the sunshine warm my skin.
Today had been my last interview on this whirlwind press tour.
My publicist had insisted on the tour, following the announcement that I’d won the Pulitzer Prize for investigative journalism. She had wanted me to take interviews for a month but I’d refused. We’d compromised on two brutal weeks down and up the West Coast, bouncing from airport to hotel to Uber car.
Not only was the travel grueling but the interviews had been miserable. My heart wasn’t in anything these days, certainly not talking about my article or my future. Those two topics were equally depressing.
But now I was done and I could retreat to the quiet comfort of my apartment to lie low. Having a drink with Bryce tonight was probably going to be my one and only social activity for at least a month.
“Sabrina.” I dropped my chin and smiled at Henry as he walked my way. “You know you should really wait to go outside until I can go with you.” He was trying to look stern but his dimple betrayed him.
“Sorry, I needed the air. Besides, I was out of your sight for maybe five seconds.”
Henry was my only bodyguard today, though there was another agent stationed permanently outside my apartment door. When I’d first come back to Seattle, I’d had three agents hovering over me constantly, but as the months went by and the Federovs paid me no attention, we all relaxed a bit.
Now, most days I only had one or two escorts. Henry was busy with other cases so he hadn’t been around much the last few months, but he had made the time to personally accompany me on my press tour.
He was about as sick of these interviews as I was, judging by the frown he’d been wearing the last three days.
“Ready to go home?” he asked, sliding on his sunglasses.
“I’m actually going to meet Bryce for a drink.” I peered around him and waved to Bryce coming through the studio’s doors. “Is that okay?”
“Of course. I’ll hang back and let you two talk. Afterward, we can get some dinner and celebrate the end of this fucking press tour.”
“Sounds good to me. Maybe we can just order in and relax.” After a glass of wine or two, I’d probably be walking like a zombie the three blocks to my apartment building.
Bryce joined us on the sidewalk and I quickly did the introductions before we all walked across the block to the wine bar, our heels clicking on the sidewalk as Henry followed closely behind.
“Congratulations again on your award,” Bryce said after we’d settled into our seats at a cocktail table and each ordered the happy-hour red. Henry had taken a post closer to the door to give us some privacy.
“Thank you. Honestly? I’m still in shock that I won.” Now that there weren’t cameras pointed at us, talking with Bryce was much more appealing.
“Why’s that? Your story was amazing.”
“Off the record?”
She nodded. “Of course. This is just drinks with a friend.”
“Thank you.” I smiled. “I’m shocked because some would say I crossed an ethical line by getting personally involved with Anton Federov. But I did what I had to do to shut them down and I was glad the Pulitzer committee saw that too.”
My commitment to the investigation and protecting my source was probably what had drawn the committee toward me in the first place.
“I think what you did took guts.” Bryce flicked her wrist toward Henry. “You were able to shut down an international arms dealer when the local police and FBI couldn’t. I’m glad the awards committee selected you, because you deserve it. And personally, I don’t think what you did was immoral or unethical. I think it was courageous.”
Beau had said basically the same thing. Did he know I’d won an award? If so, I liked to think he’d be proud.
“I appreciate that.” I smiled as our waiter delivered our wine. “Anyway, since we’ve spent all afternoon talking about me, tell me about yourself. Are you from Seattle?”
She took a sip, then shook her head. “No, I grew up in Montana, then moved here after college to get a job with a TV station.”
“Montana?” My spine straightened. “Where at?”
“Bozeman. Have you been?”
I shook my head. “Just once but it was dark so I didn’t see much other than the airport.”
“It’s an awesome town and I miss it. Between you and me, I’ve been considering moving back.”
“Is there a TV station there you could work for?”
She shrugged. “Probably, but if I went back, I’d give up TV. After I moved out here, my parents relocated to a smaller town called Clifton Forge. My dad runs the newspaper and has been begging me to come home and take it over so he can retire. TV is wearing me out and the paper business is tempting. I’m tired of producers telling me what to wear, how to cut my hair and that I need to go on a diet.”
I laughed. “I thought about going the TV route for about five minutes in college. It’s got the glamour but I shadowed a woman at Channel 4 and hated the hours.”
“Tell me about it. It’s taken me ten years to get out of morning TV. I can finally stay up later than seven o’clock at night and sleep past three o’clock in the morning.”
I laughed again and took a drink of my wine. This was nice. She was nice. The FBI agents that had been guarding me were great but they all were men. It was refreshing to have some girl time.
“So why were you in Montana?” Bryce asked.
My good mood fell a bit and my eyes dropped to my glass. “It’s a long story.”
Even though it had only been seven months since I’d left, it felt like years had gone by. Winter had passed and spring was turning into summer. A year ago, I was alone at the outpost. Now, I was back to my fancy life in the bustling city, constantly with other people, and had never been so lonely.
“I’d love to hear that story if you’ve got time,” Bryce said.
Her pretty brown eyes were so kind and inviting that I found myself spilling the entire story of my time in Montana.
It was cathartic. It was the first time I’d shared my whole experience and talked about all that had happened with Beau. Not even Felicity knew the whole story. I’d shared bits and pieces with her during our regular phone calls but we were both so excited about her baby’s upcoming arrival that our calls tended to be dominated by nursery décor discussions and rants about gender-neutral greens.
Bryce listened intently, and talking to her was just what I’d needed. Keeping everything bottled inside and constantly wearing a stoic face was part of why I was so tired. One hour talking with her had given me more energy than a full night’s sleep.
“Have you talked to Beau since you’ve been back?” she asked.
I shook my head. “No, I don’t even have his phone number. I could get it from Felicity but neither of us ever brings him up. She knows it’s a sad subject and I can’t bring myself to ask how he’s doing.” I wanted him to be happy but I was terrified he’d found someone new. For now, I was clinging to ignorance as I kept trying to put the pieces of my heart back together.
Bryce shook her head and worried her bottom lip between her teeth. “I’m so sorry things didn’t work out between you two.”
You and me both. I reached out and patted her hand, grateful for her sympathy. “It’s done now and probably for the best.” I’d been repeating that mantra every day since I’d left Prescott. Time would heal my heart, or at least dull the pain.
I hope.
The waiter came over and Bryce and I ordered another glass of wine, the interruption a good segue to a different subject.
“Have you done much writing since you’ve been back?”
“No,” I sighed. “I polished the three books I wrote at the outpost and had those published but I haven’t written anything new.” Between the insanity of being back and my complete lack of motivation, I had all but abandoned the novel I had started my last week at the outpost. My computer hadn’t been opened in a month because I just couldn’t bring myself to write.
“I’m scared of my laptop,” I admitted. “I feel like when my fingers hit the keyboard, it will rip open fresh wounds.”
“Maybe you just need time. Will you go back to the newspaper?”
Bryce had asked me the same question during our interview earlier but I’d dodged it with a vague answer.
I felt guilty for quitting a job in which I’d won a prestigious award. I felt guilty quitting a job so many would covet. I felt guilty for quitting a job that had once been my life’s aspiration. But my heart wasn’t in journalism anymore, and I couldn’t stay just to appease the guilt.
So this time, I answered Bryce’s question with the truth. “No. That chapter of my life is over. Effective this morning, I am no longer Sabrina MacKenzie, investigative reporter for The Seattle Times.”
My boss had been begging me to return to work, offering me promotions and pay raises, but this morning I had emailed him my official resignation. He’d hired someone to replace me months ago, but when I’d come back to Seattle, he had been so overjoyed that he’d pulled every string he could to put me on paid sabbatical.
I was extremely grateful for his loyalty but I wasn’t the reporter he needed on staff. Not anymore.
“I can see why you’d need a change,” Bryce said.
“You might be the only one. Well, you and my parents. They are thrilled with my decision to change careers.” When I’d called to tell them the news this morning, my dad had cheered and my mom had started crying. They were thrilled I was quitting the job that had put my life in danger.
The six months I’d spent in hiding had been horrible for my parents. My dad had gotten another ulcer and my mom had worn a path in their new carpet from pacing. After I’d gotten back to the city and arranged for my life to be turned back on, I’d spent three weeks in Florida, then gone back again for the holidays. It had been the best time I’d spent with my family in decades and we’d found a new closeness.
My brothers both texted me daily and I talked to my parents at least four times a week. They were planning on visiting Seattle this summer and I had already booked a vacation to go home in the fall.
Our new-formed bond was the one amazing thing to come out of this entire Federov disaster. That and my brief time with Beau. Even though I was in pain, I’d never regret being with him.
Bryce and I chatted for a little while longer about her job and some of the interviews she’d done lately. Then, after we’d finished our drinks, we exchanged phone numbers. Selfishly, I hoped she’d stay in Seattle and not move home to Montana. She’d be a great friend.
“Whether you stay with television or move to Clifton Forge’s paper, you will be incredibly successful.” I shook her hand good-bye. “You are one easy person to talk to, Bryce Ryan.”
She blushed and her face broke into a wide, white smile. “Coming from you, that’s the best compliment I may have ever gotten.”
I waved as she pushed through the door and disappeared into the crowd on the sidewalk.
“Ready?” I asked Henry.
“You bet.” He smiled and led me outside, escorting me home.
Henry was the reason I even had a home. While I’d been in Montana, he had arranged for my bills to be paused and my rent to be paid. He’d gone above the normal call of duty and I’d always be grateful.
“Did you have a nice time?” he asked.
“I did. It was nice to make a new friend.”
“Good.”
“Speaking of friends, I was thinking of going back to Prescott after Felicity’s baby is born. Any objections?”
He shook his head. “Do you know when?”
“She isn’t due until the end of the month and I want to give her a chance to settle in before I invade. So maybe the end of June?”
“Okay. I’ll try and go with you, but if I can’t, I’ll make sure you’re covered.”
“Do you think I’ll even need an agent with me by then?” The Federovs were scheduled to be sentenced next week, and by the time June rolled around, there might not be any danger left to worry about.
“I’d rather plan to go with you, just in case.”
“Okay.”
Maybe if Henry came with me, he’d act as a buffer between me and Beau. I was certain our reunion would be awkward—if I even saw him. I assumed that if I were in Montana he’d want to see me, but what if he didn’t? A wave of nervous energy rushed to my stomach.
“Do you still want dinner?” Henry asked.
“Sure.” I wasn’t hungry anymore, but if I didn’t get something in my system, I’d have a wicked wine hangover in the morning. I wasn’t drunk but two glasses were just enough to punish me the next day.
“How about we get you home and I’ll go pick up a pizza?”
“Perfect.”
We walked the rest of the way to my apartment building in silence. Normally, I’d spend a few minutes visiting with my doorman but my feet hurt so badly that I only said a quick hello and went straight to the elevator, pushing the button for the fifth floor.
The doors opened with a ding and Henry grumbled something under his breath before stepping into the hallway.
“Mitchell.” Henry’s angry snap sent the young agent’s head flying up and his hands fumbling his phone into his jacket pocket.
“Agent Dalton.” Mitchell stood from his brown metal folding chair, nervously smoothing out his wrinkled suit.
“Haven’t we discussed cell-phone usage when you’re on duty?” Henry asked.
Mitchell nodded frantically. “Sorry, it was my girlfriend. She’s pregnant and I just—”
“Don’t let it happen again. Remember why you’re here.”
“Sure. No problem, Agent Dalton.”
“And shouldn’t you be down by the stairwell?”
“Shit. I mean, right! Sorry, Ms. MacKenzie.”
I nodded and fought a smile.
Mitchell fumbled to fold up the chair. “I just wanted to sit down.”
“Then take the chair down there.” Henry pointed down the hall.
“Right, right.” Mitchell picked up his chair and rushed down the hallway toward the emergency exit sign.
The only way to get to my apartment was from either the elevator or the back stairs. To get on the elevator, you had to pass my doorman and have a key. To come up the stairs, all you needed was a key card. Though the stairwell door was under video surveillance, Henry had deemed it the weakest point in the building, so I’d had a guard by my door for seven months.
“He’s terrified of you,” I whispered as we followed Agent Mitchell, who walked at warp speed ahead of us.
Henry sighed. “He’s not even supposed to be here but I was short on options. We had a break in another case and I needed my full team to wrap it up. So I had to pull him from desk duty. He’s been on probation since he was too busy on that fucking phone to pay attention during surveillance.”
Could Agent Mitchell be the reason why Ivan Federov had been able to visit Montana last summer? Or had he dropped the ball on some other surveillance assignment? I didn’t ask; instead, I frowned when I realized I’d been burdening Henry and taking his focus these last two weeks.
“Henry, if you had another big case, why did you insist on going on my press tour? I would have been fine with another agent.”
“I wanted to go with you.” He took the keys from my hand and unlocked my door. “Come on, let’s get you inside.”
I followed him inside my apartment, still feeling guilty. “I’m so sorry. I should have stayed in Prescott longer.” At least there, I wouldn’t have kept FBI agents from solving other crimes.
“No, it was time for you to get out of there. I’m really glad you’re back.” He stepped into my space and looked down at me with soft eyes. His chest was just inches away from mine and I didn’t breathe for fear they would touch.
What was he doing? Was he making a move on me?
My heart started to race but not with excitement or attraction. This was panic. I wasn’t ready for someone new. As it was, I was barely hanging on to the pieces of my shattered heart. I couldn’t fathom any other man taking Beau’s place. Not now. Maybe not ever.
When Henry’s face started to descend toward mine, I unfroze and stepped back, bumping against the small table by my door. “Henry, I . . .”
His entire frame deflated and his eyes dropped to his feet. “It’s okay.”
Fuck. I had been so consumed with my own emotions I hadn’t been paying attention to Henry’s. How had I missed this? “I am so, so sorry.”
He looked up and gave me a sad smile. “It’s my fault. You seemed more like your old self today. Going out for drinks with a friend. Planning a trip back to Montana. I thought maybe you were moving on.”
I shook my head but didn’t speak. There wasn’t anything to say.
“Can we forget this happened?” he asked.
“Okay.”
“I’ll get that pizza.” He turned and opened the door. “Do you want me to pick you up more wine?”
“No, thank you. I have some.”
His smile was forced. “Be back soon. Lock this behind me.”
I nodded and closed the door, sagging against its surface as I turned the lock.
When my heart rate returned to noncritical levels, I kicked off my white shoes and let the cool marble tile soothe my aching soles.
Damn it. No matter how much we both pretended like that moment hadn’t happened, things between Henry and me were bound to get awkward. Maybe he’d have his other agents take over Sabrina duty for a while, and after some space, we’d get back to our easy friendship.
I hoped so. While Henry would never be a love interest, I still wanted him as a friend.
Forcing my feet to move, I walked further into my apartment. My cleaning crew had been in today and there was a light citrus scent in the air. Though I was still considering downsizing, I did love this space.
The walls were a soft gray, just a shade lighter than the white trim. Other than the tiled entryway, the rest of the apartment had espresso hardwood floors. I had decorated with light and muted tones to offset the dark walnut doors and cabinets.
The hall that extended from the entryway split the place in half. On the right were my office and a wide, sunken living room. On the left were my master suite and the kitchen. The U-shaped kitchen was at the back of the apartment, separated from the living room by a tall island and barstools.
Tossing my purse onto a couch, I yawned and turned to the kitchen.
My heart jumped into my throat and I gasped. A nightmare stood across from me.
Anton.
He was leaning against the stove on the other side of the island, a hand tucked casually in a pocket. He stood in just the right spot, hidden by the hallway that led to my bedroom, so that the only way to see him was by being completely inside the apartment. Since I had been looking out the floor-to-ceiling living-room windows when I’d walked in, I’d been oblivious to his presence.
“Hello, Sabrina.” His voice sent chills down my spine.
I took one step toward the door but stopped when he snapped straight and held out a gun. “Ah, ah, ah. Don’t go running away from me again. We’ve got some things to talk about, kitten.”
I shuddered at his pet name. He’d called me that for months, usually when we were in bed and I was faking an orgasm.
He pushed off the stove and walked to the side of the island, casually propping himself against its edge and setting the gun on its granite top. He was dressed in black slacks and a gray button-down shirt. His ink-black hair was styled perfectly, giving him the deceptive appearance of a normal, handsome man, but his cunning black eyes betrayed him.
“Aren’t you going to say hello?” It wasn’t a request.
I cringed. “Hello, Anton.”
I wanted to scream, to run for my life, but it wouldn’t get me anywhere. Even if I shouted for Agent Mitchell, Anton would shoot me before I could be rescued. My feet stayed firmly on the floor as fear coursed through my veins. There would be no flight, and I wouldn’t survive a fight.
But at least I wouldn’t be going alone.
“They’ll kill you, Anton. The second the FBI comes through that door, you’re dead.”
He took a step away from the counter and spat, “Bitch, I’m already dead because of you.”
I shuffled backward but had nowhere to go. Only a miracle would save me now, and since I’d already had one of those where Anton was concerned, I didn’t think I’d be granted another.
My death would wreck my parents and brothers. Felicity would be destroyed. And Beau? He’d think he’d failed me.
A numbness settled into my skin. Maybe it was from fear. Maybe it was from sheer hopelessness.
“What do you want, Anton? To take your revenge on me, then go out guns blazing?” My cool voice shocked Anton and he eyed me suspiciously.
“Something like that.”
I stood firm in my spot as I braced for his approach. Just because I didn’t expect to survive a fight didn’t mean I wasn’t going to try. My bear spray was tucked away in my purse, too far away to grab, but Beau had given me another weapon.
Me.
I was no match for Anton’s size and strength, and he’d likely overpower me, but I’d use every self-defense move Beau had taught me and fight to my death. All I wanted was to inflict just a little pain on this fucking asshole before he killed me.
That momentary numbness was going away. Burning rage was bringing me back to life.
My spine straightened and my eyes challenged Anton to do his worst. Maybe this confidence was stupid. Maybe he’d go for the gun and I wouldn’t get the chance to fight back. But I was betting on Anton’s ego winning out. He had underestimated me once. Maybe I’d get lucky and he’d do it again.
He wasn’t just here to shoot me quickly and spit on my dead body. He could have done that already. No, he was here to do what he’d started last year but hadn’t gotten to finish.
Beat me, rape me, then choke the life out of me.
Anton stood taller, trying to intimidate me, but I didn’t cower. Instead I held his eyes in silence, daring him to make his move.
I was ready when he lunged for me, his hands reaching right for my throat. Just like Beau had taught me, I sidestepped and thrust a knee into his groin.
He grunted and doubled over as I tried to get a lock on his elbow but my hands were too slippery with sweat. When I tried to bend back his wrist, I lost my grip and he squirmed free. The shock of my attack quickly wore off and Anton turned, preparing to lunge for me again.
I took my opening and kicked out hard at his knee, not doing any damage, but the force of the blow was enough to make it bend, and Anton dropped to the floor.
With Anton down, I had a split second of freedom to scramble for his gun on the counter. The second my palm hit the cool black metal, Anton’s fist reached out and grabbed my hair.
As he jerked me backward, Beau’s words echoed in my mind.
Safety. Hammer. Trigger.
I twisted in Anton’s grip, pain radiating through my scalp.
Bang.