Page 75 of The Spy Who Ghosted Me

“You won’t hurt me, and I don’t care who sees us together.”

When I hesitated, he added, “You have to be exhausted. Come lie down with me.”

I was more tired than I’d ever been. The emotional upheaval and the worry of the last week were settling in now that it was over.

“Please, Sabrina,” he beckoned me.

I couldn’t resist. I carefully crawled into bed with him, doing my best not to jostle him. When I was situated with my head on his chest, the tears that had been welling in my eyes wetted his hospital gown. “I’m so glad you’re alive.”

“Shh.” Cash stroked my hair. “Sabrina, I’m so sorry I put you in danger.”

“It’s not your fault my sister has horrible taste in men.” I halfheartedly laughed.

“That was an excellent shot.” He kissed my head.

“I couldn’t let him hurt you again, or my sister.” I shuddered, thinking I’d actually shot someone.

“Thank you for thinking I’m worth saving,” his voice wavered unnaturally.

“You are worth saving.” I curled into him. “I love you, and I don’t want this to be the end,” I admitted.

Cash didn’t respond right away, but his heart rate monitor ticked up dramatically, making my own heart race as I waited for him to break it into a million little pieces.

“I love you, Sabrina. Never forget that.”

I wanted to ask what that meant for us, but everything went blank. The next thing I knew, I was stretching out in the hospital bed, reaching for Cash only to feel an empty space next to me. For a moment I was so groggy, nothing computed. I felt like I’d overdosed on cold medication. But I was coherent enough to wonder if someone had drugged me. I’d never felt so sluggish and foggy. Then I realized what that probably meant and sat up in a panic. “Cash! Cash! Where are you?” I threw the covers off me, ready to go searching for him. But a beautiful Black nurse walked in, wearing blue scrubs and carrying a manila envelope. She had the whole young Halle Berry vibe going for her with her pixie cut and enigmatic smile.

“Where’s Cash?” I demanded to know.

The stunning nurse approached me, her smile widening as if she reveled in my distress. “Calm down, love. Cash is just fine.”

I recognized that voice. It was the voice who’d spoken curtly to me when I pushed the button on Cash’s phone. It was his handler, Ivy.

“You’re—”

She wagged her finger in front of me. “Let’s not say any more than we need to.”

I nodded, a little terrified about what she was going to do to me. Cash had warned me that SPI could never find out that I knew about them. I feared what was in the manila envelope. A prison sentence? A syringe with some type of secret formula to kill me and make it look like natural causes? I grabbed the pillow and squeezed it like that would protect me somehow.

Ivy laughed. “Darling, you don’t need to fear me.”

“Uh-huh.” I didn’t buy it.

She laughed. “You’re a smart woman. Quite smart, from what Cash says.”

I swallowed hard. “What did he say to you?”

“Just that you are a clever girl, tracking your sister and guessing the location of the missing items. And you’re a good shot. Perhaps you’re in the wrong line of work.”

Did she think I should be a spy? That wasn’t on my bingo card. “I like making pastries,” I stuttered nervously. This woman had me feeling uncomfortable—like she knew everything about me and loved having the upper hand.

“Pastries,” she laughed.

“Where’s Cash?” I was tired of this game.

She went from amused to staring me down. “That is none of your concern.”

“He is my concern,” I stated boldly, even though I was terrified.

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