Abby was folding clothes in the bedroom, trying in vain to work off her nervous energy while the men loaded themselves up with weapons and equipment that may or may not save their lives when it came time to confront Jason and his guards, when a knock sounded from the open door.

She looked up to see Carlos standing in the doorframe.

She stood. “Hey.”

“I hope I didn’t startle you — or overstep by coming up here.”

“What can I do for you?” she asked.

He rubbed at his chiseled jawline. “We haven’t known each other very long.”

“No.”

In any other context the visit would have set off alarm bells in her head: why was Carlos standing outside the bedroom she shared with Max on the second floor, a place Max held apart as belonging to him and Abby alone?

But she’d always felt comfortable around Carlos, and his nervous expression spoke more of confession than ill-intent.

“It’s not ideal,” he admitted, “going into a situation like this with an underboss you don’t have history with. These things usually happen more… organically.”

She smiled. “There’s a first time for everything, isn’t there?”

“There is, but you usually have time to build to something this big, to a scenario where you’re putting your life in someone else’s hands — or putting the life of the person you love in someone else’s hands.”

She sighed. “I’d be at his back myself if I thought I’d do him any good.”

“I don’t doubt it.”

She sat back down on the bed and looked at her hands. “It’s not ideal for you either, I guess.”

“In what way?” he asked.

“You’re risking your life for someone you don’t have a history with.”

“When DeLuca was running things, I was risking my life for people I didn’t trust, people I didn’t believe in,” he said. “This is better.”

“Because you believe in Max?” she asked, looking up at him.

He nodded slowly, like he’d been considering the answer for a long time. “I do.”

“That’s something,” she said. “That’s a lot.”

His dark eyes found hers through the dim light of the table lamp next to the bed. “I guess I just wanted you to know that you can trust me. I can’t promise nothing will go wrong, but if it goes bad, it won’t because I didn’t have his back.”

She suddenly believed it. Knew it to be true. Felt it in the lightening of the weight she’d been carrying on her shoulders, the lessening of the vise that had been gripping her heart since Max started planning the assault on the Tangier.

“Thank you.”

“I don’t know if it helps, but…”

“It helps,” she said.

He gave her a ghost of a smile just as a shadow moved behind him in the hall.

“What’s going on?” Max asked.

Abby smiled at the suspicion in his voice. Some things never changed.

“I had some questions for Carlos,” she said. “That’s all.”

“What kind of questions?” Max asked, moving around Carlos to get into the room.

She folded one of her T-shirts and set it on a stack of already-folded laundry. “Nothing big. Will you take a bullet for my man… are you prepared to die for him… the usual.”

Max barked out a laugh.

“I’ll see you downstairs,” Carlos said.

“They’re loading the Rover now,” Max said.

Carlos turned away from the doorway and disappeared down the hall. Silence settled over the room, Abby calmly folding laundry, pretending Max wasn’t there to say goodbye.

“Abby.”

Just her name, spoken softly in the half-light of the room.

“I know,” she said.

He held out a hand to her and she finished folding her jeans, setting them neatly on the stack before taking his hand.

He pulled her to her feet and folded her against his body. His arms came around her, tucking her into the safety she’d never found anywhere else.

He stroked her hair, kissed the top of her head. “Jesus christ, I love you,” he whispered.

“I love you too,” she said against his chest.

“Everything will be okay.”

She heard the things he didn’t say.

I’ll be home before you know it.

I’m going to come out of this alive.

We’re going to win.

Max had never been someone who promised things he wasn’t sure he could deliver.

She looked up at him and forced herself to smile. “I know.”

He rubbed her cheek with his thumb, his eyes skipping over her features like he wanted to memorize them.

When she couldn’t stand it anymore, she stood on her tiptoes and touched her lips to his, lingering as long as she dared, doing her own memorizing.

He kissed her hungrily, her head cradled in his hands. When he finally pulled away he looked into her eyes.

“I’ve loved you forever, Abby Sterling. Will love you forever.”

She blinked back the tears that threatened to spill onto her cheeks. “The feeling was always mutual.”

He dropped his hands all at once, her skin cold where his fingers had been just a moment before.

“I’ll text as soon as we’re out,” he said, turning for the door.

He was almost to the hall when he stopped. He didn’t look back as he spoke.

“Stay away from the news until you hear from me.”

His footsteps had already receded when her mind cleared enough to understand his final words: if things went south at the Tangier, it would be all over the news before Max — or Nico — would be able to reach her.

She dropped onto the bed and reached for one of Max’s shirts in the laundry basket. She didn’t get far folding it before she gave up, burying her face in the soft cotton, finally letting the tears flow.