Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 103380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103380 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 517(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
“You mean like what Everett and Pierce had? Sneaking around? Hiding?”
“I know it’s not ideal, but I would do anything for you…but standing by your side in front of news cameras…it would just be too dangerous.”
“No,” I said with a shake of my head.
Vincent froze and then he was lifting off me. I grabbed his arm because I knew exactly what he was thinking.
“I mean no to the hiding and sneaking around, Vincent.” He stopped his upward motion and sat back down on the bed next to me.
“If we do this, we’re all in. Both of us.” I leaned in to kiss him. “Don’t you know, Vincent?”
His eyes met mine as I pulled back just a little. “You’re it for me. I don’t need anything else.”
His arm snaked around my waist and then he was pulling me flush with his chest. “Just us,” he murmured.
“Just us.”
“Sounds perfect, Nate.”
I let my hands stroke over his face, hardly able to believe he was really here and that he was mine.
“That’s because it is.” I put my arms around him and held on, certain I’d never be able to let him go again. “It really is.”
Epilogue
Vincent
One month later
“Three,” I said impatiently.
“Two,” Nathan countered. “Keep arguing and it’ll be one.”
“Not one,” I said with a shake of my head. “Impossible.”
Nathan shrugged his shoulders. “Two. Take it or leave it,” he said.
“Fine,” I grumbled as I wrote it down on the piece of paper in front of me. “I’m sure there are plenty of places that have more than two locks on the damn front door.”
“Yeah, they’re called prisons,” Nathan said.
He leaned back in the chair as I scanned the plans in front of me. He’d vetoed most of the security measures I’d wanted to put into place in the new house we were building. Logically, I knew most of his vetoes made sense, but I was having trouble giving up the habits of the past. Just this morning I’d finally managed to not check for tampering beneath the hood of my car after we’d stopped to get coffee. I’d been a nervous wreck about the whole thing, but I’d managed it.
“I want you to carry a gun.”
“Absolutely not. Veto. Next.”
“I’d give you lessons on how to shoot it,” I said.
“Only kind of gun I’m interested in learning how to shoot is a paintball gun…maybe. What’s next?”
I sighed. “Escape hatch.”
Nathan rolled his eyes at me. “Did you seriously sneak that on the list?” he asked.
“It’ll be like a panic room,” I insisted.
Nathan merely shook his head. Mickey jumped up onto his lap. “I gave you the fence,” he reminded me.
“A regular fence,” I said. “Not even a single watt running through the sucker.”
Nathan sighed and put Mickey on the floor. He stood and came to my side of the table. I automatically moved my chair back because I knew what his plan was. He straddled my lap and closed his hands around my neck. “Take deep breaths, baby,” he said. “I’m safe. You’re safe. Vincent St. James is gone.”
I nodded. It was something he had to remind me of often. Even having seen the pictures from my own funeral hadn’t been enough to always convince me that Dominic Barretti’s crazy plan had worked. And crazy was exactly what I’d thought of it when he’d suggested it to me. But the more he’d talked, the more I’d listened.
And hoped.
Ironically, it had been the reclusive lifestyle I’d been living for so long that had made the whole thing possible. While I’d been “alive,” I’d been a threat to countless agencies and individuals. But “dead” Vincent was a harmless Vincent. Undoubtedly, there were some who’d waited to see if any of the countless secrets I held would die with me or rise up from the dead, but over time they’d forget all about me.
If only it was as simple for me to forget about them.
And the threat they’d posed to me for so many years.
It hadn’t been hard in the least to give up all the associations I’d forged over the years, even the beneficial ones. Although the director of the FBI had gotten me out of a couple of jams in exchange for the many jobs I’d done for his agency off the books over the years, there’d been no exception for him or anyone else. Every single person I’d ever worked or interacted with were led to believe I was dead. The only ones who knew better were Everett, Ronan and his men, and the Barrettis.
All people who would take my secret to the grave.
The new identity Ronan and Dom had created for me had allowed me to keep nothing of my former life except for my first name. Surprisingly, there’d been little else to leave behind. The only thing I’d lost that had really hurt had been some of David’s stuff, including his treasured books and the motorcycle he’d loved. I’d ended up walking out of my house with a few changes of clothes, David’s picture, and the well-worn copy of The Outsiders that had a special place on my nightstand. I’d thought Nathan might have a problem with my attachment to the book, but he’d surprised me when he’d not only invited me to read the book to him on the nights I was feeling nostalgic, but had found a special place in our bedroom to hang David’s picture. He hadn’t relegated my lover’s memory to a drawer like I had for so many years. No, he’d welcomed him into our lives, and he’d continued to pry stories out of me about when David and I had been children. It was his way of helping me make sure I never forgot my first love.