Page 115 of The Thief

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"When I find Trace."

"When we find Trace, I want to be there. I want to see his face when he realizes he lost."

Freddie's quiet for a long moment. "That's not negotiable. When I find him, you'll be somewhere safe."

"Freddie—"

"Some things aren't up for discussion. Your safety is one of them."

I want to argue, want to insist on my right to face the man who tried to kill me, but looking at Freddie's face, seeing the steel in his eyes, I know this is one battle I won't win.

"Fine. But I want details afterward. Everything that happens to him."

"Deal."

He lies down beside me, pulling me carefully against his chest. I can feel his heartbeat, steady and strong, feel the controlled strength in his arms as they circle me.

"I thought I'd lost you," he murmurs against my hair. "When I saw you on that floor, covered in blood..."

"But you didn't lose me. I'm right here."

"Yeah. You are."

His arms tighten around me, careful of my injuries but unmistakably possessive. Like he's memorizing the feeling of holding me, storing it up against future loss.

"Freddie?"

"Mm?"

"I love you too. Just in case I forgot to mention it."

"You didn't forget. But I like hearing it anyway."

Trace Harrington is planning his next move, thinking of new ways to hurt us. But here, in this bed, in these arms, I feel safe.

For now, that's enough.

I'm alive, I'm loved, and I'm home.

Tonight, that's everything.

CHAPTER NINETEEN

freddie

The call comes at six a.m., dragging me from the first decent sleep I've had in weeks.

Maverick's name is on the screen. Never good news when he calls this early.

"What?" I answer quietly, slipping out of bed so I don't wake Alastríona.

"We've got a problem. A big one."

"What kind of problem?"

"The kind where someone's been feeding information to Trace. Someone on our side."

My blood runs cold. "You sure?"

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