Files.
Files.
Jo looked up into his eyes.
He stared back.
Screw caution.
The thought sliced like a knife, cutting through her indecision.
Screw my heart.
Screw my fear.
I need to know.
I need those files.
I need to know.
A new plan stirred—not for Thad, not for her father, not for Nate, but for her. For the first time, for her. Because she needed the truth. She needed whatever information the Feds had. She needed to open her eyes. And when she did, maybe then her choice would become clear. At least, she hoped and prayed it would.
Jo licked her lips, took a deep breath, and stepped over that invisible line etched in the sand. “What can you offer me, Nate? What are your terms?”
- 20 -
Nate
A switch flipped in the depths of her emerald eyes. One moment she was fighting, denying, her thoughts a raging storm clouding her gaze. And the next, those irises were clear. Open and seeing. And yet, a little doubt whispered in the back of his mind that this couldn’t be real, that it couldn’t have possibly been so easy, that this was just another game Jo was trying to play. He’d been prepared for a fight, for resilience, not for this bare, vulnerable honesty now spreading between them.
“Immunity,” he said quickly, grip tightening, as though to catch her and keep her in his arms before she had a chance to fly away. “I can offer you immunity.”
Her eyes widened with surprise. “Full immunity?”
“Full immunity,” he repeated, holding her gaze captive. “You can have the future you want, Jo. All your dreams, they’re within reach. You want a bakery? You can have one. You can have ten. You can live the rest of your life without having to look over your shoulder, without having to wonder if anyone is on your tail, if anyone is watching. You can be free. All I need is your signature on a piece of paper.”
“And my cooperation.” She licked her plush red lips and swallowed, dropping her focus to the floor. The hand on his shoulder tightened, as though she was holding on to him for support, for comfort. Her chest swelled as she drew in a long, deep breath and looked back up. “What would I have to do?”
Nate’s pulse raced.
I’m so close.
We’re so close.
I can’t believe it.
After so long. After so many dead ends.
He tried not to let his excitement, his victory, leak into his tone, not when he knew that for Jo, the pieces were falling apart, not finally coming together. “We need access to the vault.”
She squeezed her eyes tight but nodded.
“And we need you to wear a wire,” he added softly. “We need your father on tape talking about his dealings with the Russians.”
Her eyes shot open. “No.”
“It’s the only way,” Nate murmured, dropping his chin to study her expression. It was carefully controlled, yet there was panic subtly written in the way her bottom lip trembled, the way her jaw clenched.