Page 77 of Celebrity Dirt

I hate that I start crying again for the billionth time since I’ve been stuck in isolation. My pathetic brain keeps going back to Logan. The last night we spent together. His promise to keep me safe and my betrayal. Would things have ended differently if I hadn’t been such an idiot?

“Miss Finch—”

“Shove it, Bishop. Just take me where I’m supposed to go.”

He doesn’t fight me. A simple nod and he waves his hand for me to follow him. We leave the hotel through a private exit and climb into a dark vehicle. I hold my breath, trying not to conjure up the images of being in Vincent’s town car. When we pull up to a vacant field, I take in the runway and small aircraft.

Climbing out, I walk around the car and spot a small plane. “Yeah, so…is this your way of getting rid of me?”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not getting on that.”

“Miss—”

“I’m not getting on that. Does no one listen? I have phobias! Boats! Planes! Helicopters! What is so hard to comprehend about the fact that I. Can’t. Get. On. That!”

Agent Bishop appears disgruntled at this predicament.

“Please just take me home. Or even better, just shoot me and bury me in the woods.”

He opens and closes his mouth a few times before finally nodding. Taking out his phone, he dials a number. Finally. Someone listens to what I want for once. I stand by, waiting for his next instructions. I better hear, “I’m taking her home so she can go back to work. And sure, we’ll stop and pick up pizza on the way, courtesy of the Department of Justice.”

I sigh while he makes his call. “Yeah, she won’t get on the plane. I know, I’ve tried. She says it’s a phobia. Her recommendation is to shoot her instead. What do you want me to do? Okay.”

He hangs up.

“Good. So, you’re taking me home?”

“No. He’s gonna walk away, and I’m going to force you on this plane.” I whip around toward the plane, my eyes traveling up the small set of stairs. Logan places his phone into his back pocket and starts to walk down the steps.

My lips part. I blink rapidly, unsure if I’m so exhausted that I’m seeing things. “I thought…” I shake my head in disbelief. “What are you doing here? They said you and I…” Ugh, the tears are on full blast. “Bishop, is this some kind of decoy to get me on that plane? Because this isn’t funny.” I squeeze my eyes closed, forcing my brain to refocus. Sucking in a deep breath, I reopen them. He’s really here. I try to shake off the image, my tears falling heavier and heavier.

His large hand cups my cheek, and I squeeze my eyes tighter. Is he here to say goodbye? I can’t…this is too much.

“Addy, open your eyes.”

“No.”

“Addy—”

“I can’t.” So much regret weighs inside my chest as my thick tears fall. “I can’t listen to you say goodbye. It’ll hurt too much.” I hate my mind for being so weak. My heart is so desperate for him to stay.

His warm palm squeezes tighter, and the softness of his lips covers mine. His kiss is gentle and real. I open my eyes. “I don’t want to say goodbye…”

“Get on the plane, Addy.” His smooth voice hums in my ear.

“I can’t.” I shake my head. “Phobias and all. They’re the worst.”

“Do you know how to fix those?”

“No—” His mouth falls to mine, cutting me off, and I bask in the taste of him, pressing my body to his. “I don’t want this to be the end. I’m sorry I didn’t listen and got you shot. If I could have—”

“Shhh.” He silences me, his tongue sliding past my lips.

I can’t stop the tears. “I’m so sorry I got you shot. If it helps, I got myself shot too, so I know how bad it sucks.” His lips vibrate over mine as he chuckles against my mouth.

“Baby, you didn’t get me shot.”

“I did! I saw the blood. I didn’t listen because I never listen, and I messed up your whole undercover sting operation. What if something worse had happened? If you died?”

“I’m very much alive and kissing you right now.” His lips press harder over mine, and I burst out into more tears as my resolve cracks in two. Not a cute cry either, but a heavy, embarrassing cry

“Addy, open your eyes.” This time, his voice is demanding, the deep growl I know and love.

“No.”

“Yes.”

“No,” I whine. Because when I do, this ends. He pinches my butt cheek, and I yelp. My eyes shoot open, and I smack him in the arm. He grunts, and I realize I hit his wounded arm. “Oh God, sorry!” I work on focusing on him through my swollen eyes. God, he is so beautiful. I can’t imagine never being able to see him again. I inhale a weak breath and prepare for the goodbye that’s going to break my heart. “So, this is goodbye, huh?”

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