Page 116 of The Art of Dying

“Yeah, but it’s complicated. The FBI has an open case on him. I don’t know, but Tiger will figure it out.” I watched her for a moment and then realization hit. I sat up. “Is that what you’re waiting for? You want all of them to be gone before you and the kids are out in the open?”

“I spent a long time hiding Dylan and Emily. Everything I did was to keep them safe. Please don’t think I’m not a thousand percent confident you can protect us. That’s not it. I would never want you to feel that way, because it’s what you do, Kitsch, and you’re very, very good at your job. I know we’re safe with you. But it’s just that anything is a possibility, and the fewer risks we take, the safer they are. As long as there are people out there who want to hurt our kids, we can’t fall into a false sense of security, and that’s so easy to do because you’re so good at it and you’re home. That’s not what I mean, of course we’re safe with you here, but…” She shook her head. “Hiding worked for a long time. It’s… comforting. But I can see how frustrated you’re getting, and I…” She wiped away a tear.

“Your mind is still in that safe house. Still going over all the rules Gina taught you. You never left. I understand now. I do. You’re their mother, of course you’re going to protect them. But Nineteen is under FBI surveillance and he’s on the run from Tiger. He has no one left to save him. He’s running for his life, a target on his back in every sense of the word. Avenging Mason is the last thing on his mind.”

“Then you don’t understand. I can’t put my guard down until the threat is gone. Not when they’re on the run, not when there’s just one. Gone.”

“Are you telling me once Number Nineteen is crossed off, you’ll be ready?”

She nodded.

I pressed my lips together, feeling relief wash over me. Finally, it made sense. I took her hand and brought it up to my lips. “I’ll put in a call tomorrow. See where Tiger’s at with everything.”

She nodded.

I touched her cheek and then pulled her in for a kiss, all bitterness and frustration melting away. Knowing there was a solution I could do something about was less daunting than trying to reason with anxiety, an invisible but very real adversary. Fear was one thing, seeing something and being able to react with fight or flight, but your heart beating out of your chest, every nerve on edge, your brain lighting up every signal that you’re about to die on a bright sunny day with no one around? Never knowing if there was a real threat or if it was just an overactive imagination—not that it mattered, because itfeltreal. Anxiety was torture, and that’s what I thought Mack and I were up against.

I would’ve gone to battle every day for her if I had to, but now that I knew she’d just been waiting for that final number to be crossed off the list, it felt like our former lives, my team knowing that I’m not crazy, and being an ordinary family again was just over the hill. After that phone call, everything would go back to normal. Or, as normal as it could be for our group. The relief I felt had me fighting back tears.

“I’m sorry. I should’ve just told you,” she said. “But I would rather you be frustrated with me than feel I didn’t trust you to keep us safe. You make me feel safer than anyone ever has.”

I kissed her cheek and then settled in behind her, holding her close. “You don’t have to manage my emotions, too, honey. I want you to feel safe enough to be honest with me, too, even if that means bruising my ego. We’re done doing things alone. All that’s over. We’re a team, now.”

“We’ve always been a team. It’s just that for a while there, it was more like wrestling than football. You did your thing, I did mine, neither of us able to help the other, and we just had to cross our fingers and hope we both did good enough to win in the end.”

I chuckled and hugged her to me, breathing in the smell of her freshly washed hair. I was going to call Tiger at dawn. If I had to put a bullet in Number Nineteen myself, Mack and the kids were going to that fucking wedding, and we could finally get back what we’d lost.

chapter thirty.

Karen

“You look so handsome,” I said, helping Kitsch with his tie.

He kissed my forehead and then looked down at his watch. “You should start getting ready, honey. Wedding starts in two and a half hours and we have a fifty-minute drive.”

I breathed out a laugh, but Kitsch continued to watch me expectantly. “We’ve talked about this.”

After three knocks on the door, Kitsch smiled and took a few side-steps to answer it. My entire body felt like it was frozen, worried it was Naomi and the rest of his team. But instead, the door swung open and revealed a tiny, stunningly beautiful—albeit no-nonsense looking—woman wearing a smart suit and sunglasses.

She waited for Kitsch to allow her inside, which he promptly did.

“Honey, this is Special Agent Liis Lindy of the FBI. She was leading the investigation on Number Nineteen.”

Agent Lindy removed her sunglasses and extended her hand. I shook it, still wondering what the hell was going on.

“Pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Kitsch. I’ve come for three reasons: to personally inform you of the death of Alexei Dostoevsky, also known as Number Nineteen, and to extend congratulations from the Bureau to Mr. and Mrs. Trexler.”

“I thought you said there were three reasons,” I said.

Agent Lindy smiled. “A personal favor to NEMESIS for their contribution to our case. To help facilitate your introduction back into the world. Tiger and Kitsch thought that perhaps a third party would provide a smoother reception, not that we anticipate otherwise. It just… eliminates initial doubt as opposed to Kitsch making the attempt. I’m sure you agree.”

I looked to Kitsch, covering my nose and mouth with my hands. A grin spread from one side of his face to the other.

I moved my hands, holding them at my chest. “I get to go to the wedding?”

Kitsch nodded.

“Oh, God,” I said, touching my forehead. “I don’t have a dress.”

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