Page 35 of Final Exit

“What about you?” he asked.

“My parents were devout Catholics.”

“That doesn’t answer my question. What aboutyou? Doyoubelieve?”

She looked away, thinking about his question. Did she believe? She had, once upon a time. When it was just the three of them. When everything was puppies and roses and weekend trips to any theme park with a roller coaster—because roller coasters made Bailey happy, and her adoring father loved nothing more than to make his little girl smile.

She’d believed in fairy tales, too, where mommies and daddies cuddled and laughed and read their daughter bedtime stories every night. She’d also believed in a world where bad guys didn’t sneak up on you from the shadows, a world where mommies and daddies never died.

Until they did.

“Bailey?”

“Why did you call 911 for Hawke?” When he didn’t answer, she looked up again. The expression on his face was a mixture of confusion and a dash of something else. Hurt? Censure?

“Whywouldn’tI call 911?” he finally asked. “Hawke was hurt. He needed medical attention.”

“But you risked exposure, risked the police asking all kinds of questions that I’m sure you don’t want to answer. If an Enforcer tells someone about EXIT, the penalty can be extreme, maybe even death depending on the circumstances. But you’re as deep into this as I am. I imagine you could, what, be fired? Lose your career? Worse? Why would you risk everything to help someone you’ve never met?”

“Because it was the right thing to do. I didn’t have a choice.” With that, he looked away, staring across the room at nothing at all.

Bailey felt his words sink deep into her soul.Because it was the right thing to do.Simple words, easily said. But he’d meant every single one of them. She could hear it in his tone, see it in his eyes, feel the censure in his body language because he was deeply offended that she might have expected otherwise.

He was right. She had. That’s why she’d asked the question. People in her world rarely acted nobly. Trust was hard-won, and once given, often thrown away in the face of expediency.

She’d never met a man like the one sitting beside her now. He’d had so many opportunities today to cart her away to the so-called retraining facility, or to call his men to do it, since he supposedly didn’t know where the facility was located. And yet, here he was, sitting with her inside the ER just because he knew she wanted to wait and hear how her friend was doing.

They could have called 911 and left before the ambulance had arrived. That would have ensured no probing questions from the police once the EMTs reached the scene and realized this wasn’t a case of someone accidentally cutting themselves while cooking dinner. He could have handcuffed her and been done with his mission, on to the next Enforcer. But he hadn’t. Could she really doubt him anymore?

He’d saved her from a sniper.

He’d saved her from the man in the bushes at his house who’d been about to shoot her.

He’d figured out that she’d follow him this morning and had planned to face her one-on-one. That was obvious to her now. He was too smart not to have realized she’d tail him. So he’d risked his life, letting her get the draw on him. All because she’d asked some questions the night before, raised some doubts about what was really happening to the Enforcers. And in response, he’d given her a chance to prove him wrong, to prove her right. Because he was a kind, decent man who wanted the truth.

Her shoulders slumped and she let out a deep sigh.

“You okay?” he asked.

“Peachy.” She crossed her arms, all too aware that he was studying her, probably wondering what she was thinking. She couldn’t exactly admit that she’d gone soft, that he’d managed to work past her defenses in less than a day. Damn it. She was better than this. How had she let this happen?

“Remember our cover story?” he asked softly. “What we’re supposed to tell the police if they showed up to ask questions?”

“Yeah, I remember.”

“Good. Because they’re here.”

Two uniformed officers had just stepped into the waiting room behind a man in an immaculate gray suit, not a wrinkle in sight—obviously their boss.

She stiffened as gray-suit’s gaze locked onto them and he headed their way. A nurse must have pointed them out. Then again, she and Kade both had blood on their clothes from applying pressure to Hawke’s wounds. Figuring out that they were the ones who’d called 911 wasn’t exactly an intellectual puzzle.

“Hold me,” she whispered. “I’m distraught.”

He immediately put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her against his side.

Damn if it didn’t feel good.

Bailey wiped nonexistent tears from her eyes as the suit stopped in front of them, the two uniformed officers flanking him on either side.

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