“I never cheated on you, Bomb. I took those girls out to trick people into thinking I didn’t care.”

“Oh.” I’m not sure how to feel about that.

He turns towards me and one hand comes up to cup my face. “I don’t want you to get hurt. I don’t want my mistakes to come back and hurt you. I’ll die if something happens to you.” His eyes stare into mine and he swallows. “But I’m the one who’s been hurting you with this plan. And I just want you to know, Ronnie. I’m sorry. I’m sorry,” he says again. “It’s just… we’re in a lot of trouble, baby. And I hate to bring you in on it like this. But I don’t want you to think I never cared if something happens and I never get a chance to tell you—”

He stops and I’m crying all over again. I hug him close and bury my face in his chest. “Nothing’s gonna happen, Spence. It’s not, OK?” I look up, sniffling. “I love you too. And I feel the same way. I’d do anything for you.”

He kisses me on the nose and then scoots down the bed and starts taking off my f**k-me boots. “You’re gonna drive a minivan, Ronnie. And all my princesses will go to Catholic school. They’ll wear those little green and blue uniforms, Bombshell. And my daughters will wear pants, every f**king day. No tartan skirts for my little girls.”

I laugh at that and sigh as I picture it. “I’d do anything to make that dream come true. Anything.”

Spencer wraps me in his arms and holds me close. “I love you, Veronica. I love you more than I love myself. More than I love Ronin or Ford. More than the Team, Ronnie. I love you more than the Team. Much more. And I just need you to trust me a little bit longer, OK? I just need to keep you safe. I’ll tell you everything once it’s all over. But I can’t tell you anything right now, babe. Do you understand me?”

“I do, Spencer.”

And I really mean it. Because Bobby-slash-Tet and I talked the whole way home from the test. And he told me things tonight as well. Things I’m probably not supposed to know. Things Spencer would not want me to know. Things that need to be done to keep our dream alive.

I love Spencer just as much as he loves me and that’s why I’m gonna be Bobby Mansi’s backup. I have a job, and just like Spencer, I’ll do whatever it takes to make sure we all come through the other end alive.

After a while Spencer’s hands find their way back to my body. We’re all talked out, so we show our love in different ways now. We show our love with kisses, and eye contact, and light dragging touches across bare skin.

Every movement is slow.

Every gesture is tender.

Every word is soft.

And if I didn’t know what was coming, it would be the perfect happily ever after.

Chapter Twenty-Six

SPENCER

Leaving Ronnie in bed might be the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I look at her one last time in the dim glow of approaching dawn outside. Her golden hair is spread out on her pillow, her little hands all tucked up under her chin like she’s cold. I pull her close one more time. She’s a heavy sleeper, but she grumbles and gives me a snuggle before wiggling away and turning over.

I wish I could just steal her away right now. Run away with her. Some tropical island where we’d live naked, brown from the sun, carefree with no one else around. And if I had met Ronnie first instead of Ford and Ronin, I would. I do love her more than the Team, but my Team is in this mess right now because of me.

Yeah, Rook has a lot to do with it as well, but now that our stories are intertwined—for the sole purpose of saving my ass—it’s not about Rook’s mistakes anymore. It’s all about mine. I’m the one who killed the Boulder dude. I’m the one who told Rook to cover for me with the story she told the police last year.

And yeah, Ronin and Ford were there when I pulled the trigger, and Rook is responsible for those human traffickers being linked to us in the first place. But everything all comes back to me. We stand together, so if we lose, we’re all going down. We all played a part.

But I’m the only one who’s really guilty. I can’t just up and run away with Ron. I have to clean my mess up or one day it will come back and kick my ass. I know this. I saw it happen when I was sitting in the Denver Detention Center, waiting to be processed over to Boulder County, and I was stuck in this cell with a guy who was also in for murder one.

Three and a half years ago

“You got a girl?” the guy asks from his side of the room.

I don’t even look up. “No. Not really. A bunch of them, you know.” It just sorta comes out. My mind is spinning from my current situation.

Because we are f**ked. That detective in Boulder got a hold of Ford’s computer and sure enough, he found a way inside Ford’s protected shit.

How the f**k did they breach his shit? I don’t get it. It was locked up tight. In fact, it wasn’t even on that computer. It was being held on a remote server. I don’t know all that shit Ford does to keep his data private, but I do know for a fact that nothing’s actually stored on the computer. Nothing is local. Which means these guys got into his system, traced his ass through the cloud, and then broke in.

My breath comes out in a long controlled exhale.

I’m so f**ked.

“That’s good, son,” the older guy says. “Because they always get you. They always get you in the end.”

I look up at him now. He looks Mexican but his Southern drawled English says he’s not, he’s about forty or so, and his green tats tell me he’s no stranger to prison. All the knuckles on his left hand have x’s on them. “What?” I’ve got no interest in hearing this ass**le’s version of Life Lessons Learned in the Joint. I just want him to shut the f**k up.