Page 51 of No Words
“I have exits planned for every job,” I admit. “But I’ve never included myself in the escape plan before. As soon as I pickedyou up and brought you here, I spoke with Killian. I knew I couldn’t just let you go.”
I pick up the matching passport with my photo, the one with Finn Taylor’s name beneath my face.
“These aren’t just for you. They’re for us.”
Her eyes meet mine, searching. “You’re coming with me?”
“If that’s what you want.” I keep my voice steady despite the unfamiliar uncertainty I feel. “I’ve already arranged it with Killian. I’ll still be working for him, but as Finn Taylor. As far as the world knows, Cole Bennett died in the Borsellini attack. Just another casualty in their attempt to silence a witness.”
I watch her process this; her expression subtly shifts as she weighs what she’s losing against what she might gain.
“We’d need to change my appearance,” she says finally. “Hair color at minimum.”
“I was thinking dark brown,” I admit. “It suits your complexion.”
The hint of a smile touches her lips. “You’ve thought about this.”
“I’ve thought about a lot of things.”
She sets the passport down carefully, her fingertips lingering on the edge. The prosecutor who lived by rules and regulations, considering a life built on lies. Her chest rises with a deep breath before she stands abruptly.
“I need some air.”
I take her hand and lead her outside, down the path toward the small lake behind the cabin.
We stand at the water’s edge, the cabin and my team behind us, the vast unknown ahead.
“I want you to understand what I’m offering. I can’t promise normal, and I can’t promise easy. The world I operate in, Killian’s world, the underground network, it exists in shadows.”
She doesn’t look away, doesn’t flinch.
“But I can promise you’ll never be alone again,” I continue. “Never unprotected. Never abandoned.”
She studies me for a long moment, her fingers tracing patterns on the coffee mug. “You know what I realized this last few days? Everything I thought mattered, my career, the system, playing by the rules, none of it protected me when it counted. But you did.”
Her eyes shift, the last flicker of hesitation extinguished. Her shoulders square, her breathing deepens, and something hardens in her expression, the last piece of her old self falls away.
“I’ve spent my career believing in a system that failed,” she says. “Your world, as dangerous and morally gray as it is, at least delivers what it promises.”
My chest loosens, like finally taking a deep breath after years underwater.
Her hand comes up to touch my face. “I’m not afraid of your darkness. I want all of it.”
In all my planning, all my contingencies, I never prepared for this, for her to choose me, knowing exactly what I am, what I’ve done.
I scan the area around the lake, assessing sight lines, distances, coverage. My training never fully switches off. The cabin is visible but distant, and the team is occupied with final preparations. The trees around the shore provide both concealment and privacy. Perfect.
“I want to try something,” I say, my voice dropping to the tone I use when establishing control. “A game.”
Her eyes widen somewhat, pupils dilating. She recognizes this voice now, knows what it means.
“What kind of game?” she asks, a slight tremor in her words.
I reach into my pocket and remove the coil of thin black rope I always carry. Her gaze follows my hands as I run the rope through my fingers.
“You’re going to run,” I tell her, each word deliberate. “Into those trees, along the shore, wherever you choose. And I’m going to give you a thirty-second head start.”
She swallows, her chest rising and falling more rapidly. “And when you catch me?”
