“No. It’s in some biker bar or other, right?” Mitchell asks, surly to be losing a good agent.
“Perhaps,” I shrug, “it remains to be seen. But I’ll never forgive myself if I don’t at least see what else is out there.”
“We’ll need you to testify against Bruno,” Mitchell says, back to business at once.
“Oh, gladly,” I smile, “but after that, I’ll be taking an indefinite leave of absence.”
“What are you going to do in the meantime, other than learn to shoot pool and ride a Harley?” Chuck asks.
“I’ve been offered a full time position at CrowdedNest,” I reply. “It’s a good, solid operation they have going there. I think it will do a lot of people a ton of good. It’ll be nice to do something good for the world...that doesn’t involve gun fights and maniacal rogue agents.”
“Can’t argue with that logic,” Chuck laughs softly, “but we’ll miss you around here, Collins. I’ll miss you.”
“I’ll miss you too, you grumpy old bastard,” I say, reaching into my purse, “but I hope you’ll take this parting gift as a token of my everlasting affection.”
Chuck lets out a barking laugh as I hand him a crumpled package of Hostess cupcakes—the very same gift he gave me to mark my two-year anniversary at the FBI. It’s hard to believe that it was only a month or so ago that we were marking that occasion. How quickly things can change when you follow your heart.
“It’s been a pleasure working with you,” Mitchell tells me, “I hope we’ll see you back in these parts someday.”
“If this case has taught me anything,” I reply, “It’s that anything at all can happen.”
I see myself out of Chuck’s office, making my way through the dead-eyed office that I once called home. In those days, I was all but invisible to my coworkers. But today, their weary eyes follow me as I make my way past. In a few short weeks, I feel as though I’ve transformed into a whole new person. A whole new woman. And I know who’s partly responsible for that.
The California sunlight warms my bare arms as I burst out the front doors. I take a huge gulp of fresh air, a wide grin breaking across my face. I feel as though the weight of the world has been lifted from my shoulders. After all this sneaking, pretending, deceiving, I’m finally free to be myself. To be with the people I’ve come to love and respect. One, in particular.
“You coming or what, Red?” I hear Brooks call.
I turn to see my man leaning against his Harley across the parking lot. His tall, perfectly balanced form is an absolute vision. The inky black leather of his cut gleams in the sunlight as he draws on a Marlboro, his emerald eyes shining in the sun. The second I glance his way I feel that now-familiar tightening between my thighs. There’s nothing standing in our way, now that I’ve cut ties with the FBI. I’m free to be his, to take him for my own. I can hardly fathom what that means for us as a pair, but I know that it’s going to be so, so good.
“They didn’t try to cuff you to your desk, then?” Brooks asks, as I walk toward him.
“I wouldn’t have let them if they tried,” I smile, plucking the cigarette from his mouth and taking a long drag, “I’ve got better places to be these days.”
“Such as?” Brooks grins, placing his hands firmly on my hips.
“Pretty much anywhere you and I can be alone,” I reply, closing the space between our bodies, “now that I’m a free woman, and all.”
“Now that’s a plan I can get behind,” he growls, snatching the smoke from my lips and crushing it beneath his heel. “Hop on.”
We climb onto his Harley, settling against each other as if we’ve been together for years. It may seem crazy, but that’s exactly how it feels with Brooks. I lean my cheek against the back of his cut as he revs the engine to life. The powerful machine vibrates like crazy between my legs as I wrap my arms tightly around Brooks’ sculpted torso. He swings the bike around the parking lot, heading for the open road. I glance back at the resident agency—that dinky little building that owned me for two years of my life. It’s amazing how small it seems now, as it disappears behind us.
I can’t stop smiling as we fly along the open road, en route back to Nevada. With every passing minute, another bit of my old life falls away. I have no way of knowing how this decision of mine is going to play out. But it’s enough to know that I’ve made a decision of my own, for once. I’m not just letting things be decided for me. At last, I’m in control.
It’s a feeling I could certainly get used to.
Night begins to gather around us as we make our way ever forward. Little by little, the sun sinks toward the horizon, revealing a dizzying canopy of stars. My red curls fan out behind me as the wind catches them, and my spirit soars with all the strength and speed of the Harley beneath us. Right now, anything in the world seems possible.
As we bear down on Vegas, I recognize the roads leading toward the Forty-Five Club. But just before we reach that rollicking bar, Brooks turns off down a dusty dirt road instead. I look up at him questioningly, but he keeps his eyes trained forward as we trundle along. We drive out to a secluded overlook, far away from any prying eyes. A low throbbing starts in my core as I realize that Brooks has made good on finding us a place to be alone. He rolls the Harley to a stop, lifting the helmet off his chestnut curls.
“Here we are,” he grins, looking over his shoulder at me.
“Nice place,” I say lightly, running my hands down his cut arms.
“I thought you’d like it,” he says.
I cry out in surprise as he turns and scoops me up, drawing me into his lap. I straddle him right there on the bike. Wrapping my arms around his shoulders, I can’t help but let my hips grinds against him, ever-so-softly. Brooks runs his hands down my back, pulling me close. His lips find the tender skin of my throat, kissing along my neck and collarbone.
“Thank you, Brooks,” I whisper, taking myself off guard.
“For what?” he murmurs, catching my face in his hands.
“For...all of this,” I say, gesturing to the wide open space around us. “For showing me how exciting life can be. For showing me what it’s like to be wanted. And loved. And all at the same time.”
“You never have to thank me for that,” Brooks says firmly, his green gaze cutting through to my very soul. “We saved each other, Red. But that doesn’t mean we owe each other. Besides...I can think of far more exciting ways for us to show our gratitude...”