Chapter 39
Look Alive
Caleb
I DRIVE FAST, leaning forward to see the roads.
Listening to the police scanner, it doesn’t take long to confirm both Cruz and Smith are dead.
Gemma gasps but really it isn’t a surprise.
After I’m certain we’re not on the police radar, I turn the scanner off. Tonight was a giant fuck up. I have no idea how I’m going to explain to my team or Meg what happened.
“Did you get what you needed?” Gemma asks, jolting me from the thoughts humming in my brain.
I breathe in one quick, sharp, shaky breath. “No, I didn’t. Tell me you still have the necklace?” I ask, knowing how much it means to her. Not because of the value, though, but rather because her parents’ souls live within it.
“Yes, I have it,” she tells me. “But why didn’t you get what you needed?”
The sigh I exhale isn’t meant for her. “I had a flash drive in the computer but after Smith crashed into it, I didn’t have time to look around for where it landed. It was either us or the data.”
“I’m sorry, Caleb. It’s my fault.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“Yes, it is. I should have left when you told me, and then none of this would have happened.”
“Don’t say that,” I tell her. “I’m glad all of this happened. You took back what he took from you, and I mean more than just the diamonds. I’m thankful for that.”
She sighs. “But what are you going to do?”
Realization is a pendulum too big to measure. I swallow back the lump in my throat. My life has been my job for so long, thinking about myself seems odd. “I’m going to get my team what I can to help with the case. There’s not much the FBI can do to Cruz now, anyway.”
She darts her gaze out the window. “FBI? So you do work for the government.”
She isn’t asking, but I nod anyway.
“What’s going to happen to me?” she asks, sounding frantic.
I reach over and slide my hand in hers. “Nothing. They’ll never even know you were involved.”
“Caleb, I can’t ask you to do that.”
Squeezing her hand, I pull it to my lips. “You didn’t ask me to. It’s what I’m going to do. I’ve lived with the idea of revenge for so long, I lost sight of who I was. I don’t want to be that person anymore. I can’t be. Once I debrief, I’m going to leave the agency.”
“Are you sure?” she asks.
“Yeah, I’m sure.”
She glances over at me. “I have to disappear for a while. Penelope might be looking for me.”
“I know,” I tell her. “I know.”
The rest of the ride is silent except for the sound of the rain pouring down. I park as close as I can to the old cigar factory, and we take the long way around the building to avoid anyone seeing us.
With the bad weather, most people are inside, which makes us stand out, so we need to take precautions and be certain that none of Cruz’s men are following us.
Once we’re safely inside the building, I scan for anyone who might be around. It’s quiet.
“What are you doing?” I ask as Gemma opens a small closet.
“Getting the key,” she tells me.
Seriously?
That’s where she hides it?
I need to teach her a few things.
“Not having to break in is a plus,” I smirk instead of making a smart-ass comment because come on, she deserves a break.
While she’s in there, she also grabs a broom.
“What’s that for?” I ask, seriously hoping cleaning up isn’t on her mind right now.
“Air,” she quips.
I raise a brow in question.
“I’ll show you. Just move, will you?”
She’s a pushy little thing.
As soon as we’re inside the storage unit, I can’t stop the crushing pain from engulfing me and I fall to the cot.
Gemma uses the broom handle to open a small vented window up high and it allows for some fresh air to rush in.
She’s obviously done this before.
Unable to move, I stay where I am but keep my eyes on her as she rummages through the crates. After finding a flashlight, she turns it on and uses it to rummage some more. When she turns around she’s holding a black velvet box. She opens it and carefully sets the necklace in it.
“What are you going to do with it?” I ask.
Her sad eyes meet mine. “I don’t know. I’ve never allowed myself to think that far ahead.”
“You’ll figure it out.” I pat the cot. “Come lay beside me,” I tell her.
After she lies beside me and rests her head on my chest, she looks up at me. “I’m sorry, Caleb, I’m so sorry.”
I shake my head. “Shhh . . . no more. Okay?”
She nods and then wipes away her tears before clearing her throat. “We need to get you to a doctor,” she tells me, and her voice is a whisper against my skin, electricity in my blood.
For a moment, I don’t even care that I’m bleeding like a motherfucker. Touching her is all I can think about. However, then I shift and the throbbing in my thigh makes me wince. “No doctor,” I tell her. “It’s too risky. Do you have a first aid kit in here?”
Sitting up, she shines the flashlight around the space. “Yes, give me a minute to find it.”
“And a knife and a needle and thread.”
She gasps. “For what?”
I place my hand on her back. “To cut the bullet out of my thigh and then stitch me up.”
Even in the darkness, I can see her go pale.
“Gemma, do you think you can do that?”
She runs her fingertips down my cheek. “Before I met you, I’d have said no. But now, I feel like I can do anything.”
Strange. I feel the exact same way.