Beatrice’s POVI stare at Flint’s unconscious body. No one would know if I left him out here. Ian was supposed to have searched the grounds. He’ll bleed out. There’s already so much blood.“Tris?” Nolan’s voice travels across the field, and when I scan behind me, he’s silhouetted against the double doors.Thoughts flick through my brain, almost too brief to catch. He’ll see me walk away. If Flint killed their father, I could get away with leaving him to die. We don’t know for sure. Could Nolan forgive me? Would he understand?Time’s up. Make a choice.“Nolan!” I scream. “Nolan!”He breaks into a run, and I drop to my knees beside Flint. Cradling his head in my lap reminds me of my brother and makes it impossible for me to do anything but sit there, staring at the blood leaking out of him and across the flagstones.Once Nolan reaches my side, there’s a flurry of activity as he struggles to staunch the bleeding while calling an ambulance and then a cleaning crew to collect and dis
Beatrice’s POVWe're deep into our second game of Settlers of Catan while we wait for updates. Nolan suddenly remembers that the game was stashed away in a cupboard from a previous waiting period. When I brought it up, he got quiet and mentioned that he used to play it with his dad. Later, Dalton decided to join us while we waited during some other tense moments. The thought of him playing this game with Nolan is both sweet and a bit sad. It's hard to picture him being good at it, but it feels wrong to think that way now that he's gone. Still, I appreciate the distraction from Flint's situation and James's extraction. I'm trying to keep Nolan's strategy in mind because my worrying won't change anything for either of them. When I look up from the board, I catch Nolan watching me. “Need a hand?” he teases, a playful spark in his eyes. “I think I can handle it.” “Because you have choices.” “I see them.” I nod at the board, fiddling with a card in my hand. “I wouldn’t
Beatrice’s POVWhile I wait for Nolan to emerge from Flint’s room, I try to stay as still and calm as possible. Inside, I want to fidget, jump up and pace around, anything to release this nervous energy.When the hospital door swings open, Nolan pauses at the threshold for a minute, scanning the hallway for me, and I almost collapse in relief. His expression is the one I’ve come to recognize so well. There’s no rage or confusion anywhere. Whether Flint remembers or not, he didn’t say anything to his brother.“He wants to see you.” Nolan nods at me.We’re toe-to-toe and he still hasn’t moved from the doorway.“You okay?” I ask.A wisp of a smile flits across his face before it vanishes. His lips brush my temple as one of his arms circles my waist. “I’m headed home. I’m leaving one of the guys here to come with you.” He gestures to a man whose name I can never remember. Felix? Jorge? It’s strange to think how much I relied on Dalton. Nolan’s hand slides away, and his footsteps retr
Beatrice’s POVFrowning, I stare at the text for a few minutes. They’re calling me to headquarters for a meeting. While it would be nice to see James, the timing isn’t great. I need to speak to Dai Qing before I leave for the airport.I dial Sierra’s number and hold the phone to my ear.She answers on the first ring. “Oh, God, Tris. Is he still alive?”“What?”“Flint. He called me early this morning or late last night. I was in a meeting, and so my phone was off. But he left this rambling message on my phone because he was dying.” Her voice catches on a sob.“He’s alive, Sierra.” What else did he say in that message? She’s calling me, so he couldn’t have outed me as FBI to her, or she’d be here shooting me herself. “What did he say in his message?”Sierra takes a few steadying breaths. I picture her worrying a wad of tissues as she talks. “Some personal stuff.”“He has a phone in his room, if you want to call him. But—” I purse my lips. “He won’t remember calling you. His memor
Beatrice’s POVI reach out blindly for a steel chair and plop down into it. “You knew?” Dai Qing asks, her brow furrowing. “No,” I reply, shaking my head. “I was just a kid.” Her frown deepens. “But you know something now.” I feel a wave of nausea. If Nolan was behind John's death, could he also have had a hand in Claude's? Flint mentioned they killed for each other, and Nolan had told me about John. Flint fought Claude in The Corral, and Claude was really good, one of the best. Could Flint have done it? Did they both do it? “If you know something,” she says, tapping the folder, “you need to share it.” “I don’t know anything,” I say, glancing at her before looking away. “I was only ten. What could I possibly know? I didn’t even realize John was a mechanic. He was just a loser to us. I’m—” I struggle to find the right words. “Shocked he died like that.” Dai Qing sits down in the chair across from me and pulls the folder closer. She flips through it for a moment bef
Beatrice’s POVNolan’s remarks about his secret project, how Flint didn’t grasp the significance of what he was working on, and his mention of setting something in motion that he wasn’t sure he could stop, keep popping into my mind. “No one told me anything?” She slams the folder down on the table behind her. “And risk you blowing your cover? You’re already too invested in him. If you knew, you’d have ruined your own story.” I shake my head, though a small part of me wonders if she’s got a point. “I should have been informed.” “We couldn’t take that chance. He turned us down flat. He said he’d only give up Flint if his brother killed their father. Any other situation wasn’t negotiable.” She gestures toward Nolan in the other room, leaning over the table at Zahir, who looks completely unfazed, hands relaxed. Other agents are around, watching closely, hands near their weapons. “You can guess he’s a bit upset we were at his place.” “What did you tell him?” “That when he refused us,
Beatrice’s POVDai Qing’s phone buzzes as we make our way to the medical building. “He’s out of the coma and ready for visitors. Perfect timing.” She slips her phone into her pocket. My stomach twists at the thought of James and the fact that Nolan and Flint are responsible for what happened. Flint did it for kicks, and Nolan thought he was protecting me. I wipe my sweaty palms on my jeans as we step inside. I know he won’t blame me, but I can’t shake the feeling that I could have done something to help him sooner, maybe figured out that Flint was gathering people I didn’t even know about.“How are you holding up, seeing him like this?” She turns slightly and raises an eyebrow. “I don’t think anyone enjoys seeing him like this. That’s not really what you mean, is it?” “Well, I know you two had a… thing.” Dai Qing chuckles. “Did he mention that to you?” “He hinted at it a few times, but he never outright said it.” “That makes sense.” “Does it?” “I mean, he’s had feelings for yo
Beatrice’s POVI toss and turn all night, my mind racing with the thought that I should have perished alongside my dad and brother. Why was I the one who survived? What’s the reason behind it? When I finally manage to quiet those thoughts, I can’t help but think about Nolan. Is he back home? Will he come to see me? What’s going on between us?Frustrated, I kick off the blankets and jump into a hot shower. I feel more drained than I have in years. After getting dressed, I make my way to Nolan’s rooms. As I pass his office, I notice light spilling out from under the door. For a second, I wonder if I accidentally left it on, but I was careful to put everything back in its place.After a brief moment of doubt, I enter the code Nolan gave me. The light blinks red and beeps. I frown and raise my hand to try the code again when the door suddenly buzzes open.He’s back. He must have changed the code. That pretty much says it all about how much he trusts me. Disappointment settles in my throa
Flint’s POVBefore I’m fully awake, I sense something is wrong. The room is too still, the spot beside me too cold. Her flowery scent lingers, but not in the way it does when she’s present.I sit up and rub my eyes. A hint of light peeks between the curtains. I don’t remember the last time I slept so soundly. Rare for me to tune out noises in the background, even in sleep. Alert is alive.Her stuff, strewn across the floor last night, is gone. I slept through her packing. Throwing off the covers, I check the bathroom to be sure, but I realize what’s happened. She went to Ireland without me. On the dresser is a mound of bills.Jesus.She paid me like I’m a fucking prostitute.Snatching my jeans off the floor, I tamp down the spurt of rage threatening to escape—at myself, at her. My room key is in my back pocket. Will my passport and other forged documents still be there?I dress in hurried movements. The money sits on the dresser. Not taking what she’d left is stupid, even if having the
Sierra’s POVThe smart thing would be to ask him to leave my hotel room, to step back, to readjust my shirt. After he leaves, I’ll satisfy my lust in another manner—that’s the smart thing. The tiniest part of my brain still knows that even as the timbre of his voice sends a shiver of desire racing down my spine.Whenever Flint is this close, my mind short-circuits, and it’s all I can do to remember my name. The sharp, tangy scent of him, the way he worships and devours me, the way his skin slides over mine, makes my senses go into overdrive, hyperaware, poised for release.“Fuck me,” I whisper, rising on my toes to press my lips against the sensitive spot on his neck.“I didn’t hear you.” His voice is guttural, on the edge of losing the control he has left.Glancing up at him under my lashes, I smirk. “Then I guess you should leave so I can take care of myself.”He deftl
Flint’s POVRage courses through me, an old friend. Last time I felt this surge, I shot an FBI agent. I’d love to shoot someone again.Eric.I take another bite of my burger and chew without saying a word to her. She’s eating her salad in silence, an air of grief around her causing a corresponding ache in my chest. I hate that fucking pressure bearing on me.I do pretty much everything in my power to never experience regret and longing. Since she rescued me, they’re constant fucking companions. Whenever they rear their heads, I tell myself, that’s the stab wound or that goddamned gunshot just reopened.I’ve never been a fixer. Nolan is, Sierra is, but me? I’m usually the guy creating the chaos. My mind churns with ways to fix this feeling in me, in her. The best I can come up with involves going upstairs and using our bodies to forget, to remember, to fucking drown in each other.There’s only o
Sierra’s POVFlint orders a burger and a beer. I get a salad and mineral water. I’m tempted to feign a trip to the bathroom to have my drink changed to vodka and soda. He’d never suspect unless he got close enough to smell my breath. A personalized breathalyzer is entirely possible. Since the lobby, he’s been looking at me like he could devour me instead of the burger.“Well.” I place my phone on the table. “You wanted me sober. What were you hoping to discuss?”Flint smirks. “I didn’t need you sober for the conversation portion of the evening.” He turns his hand as though he’s flipping an imaginary object over. “Only for what comes next.”His eyes are ice chips as they sweep over me. Ice isn’t what’s running through my veins. Heat. So much heat I want to fan myself. Instead, I squeeze my thighs together and pray for the server to have understood mineral water
Flint’s POVSierra goes into the office at the bank by herself. The building is shiny windows, gleaming metal, and polished floors. I’m not sure what I expected of a Russian bank, but not this modern.Jay and I are outside the door in case there’s any trouble. He’s glued to his phone, trying to chase up leads on Valeriya or the warehouse or any of the other fucking things going wrong. I miss having a device. Standing here with nothing to do gives me too much time to think.Part of me is annoyed Sierra didn’t see Valeriya for the lying bitch she’s turned out to be. Sierra has always been that way—loves hard, finds the best in people, even when she shouldn’t.The office door swings open, and she hitches her purse onto her shoulder. Jay and I flank her.“And?” I ask.She takes a deep breath. “She didn’t move the money.”“That’s a good sign.” Jay stops fiddling with his phone and tucks it into his pocket.“She cleaned out her accounts. There’s no way to trace her.”“At least you were righ
Sierra’s POVWe’ve made Valeriya’s apartment base camp while we sort through her papers, search for clues. Jay is phoning airlines, checking security footage, calling taxi companies. Flint’s on a conference call with an IT company. They’re supposed to be hacking into her phone records or her email—preferably both.Seems like Flint’s right about Valeriya fucking me over. But since we don’t understand why she vacated her apartment, he can’t declare a complete victory yet. Or at least, that’s what I told him. Really the two of us sitting down for a sober conversation over dinner, discussing things beyond this work, terrifies me. There’s only the tiniest thread of my willpower intact.As I sort through the papers in a desk drawer, I come across a pile that stops me short. The surrogacy documents she signed. Back when I was with Eric, Valeriya responded to an advertisement I ran for a surrogate to carry a baby for me. In the end, the timing hadn’t been right, and I changed my mind.But I l
Flint’s POVSierra insisted on going to a Russian doctor she has on call to get me patched up before venturing to Valeriya’s again. I let him check me over while Sierra and Jay are out in the waiting room.“All clear?” I ease my shirt back over my head.“Minor issues,” the doctor says. “Be more careful. You’re not healed yet.”I grunt as I slide off his examination table. “You service the Evans employees?”The doctor scribbles a prescription for pain on his notepad, rips it off, and holds it out. “Yes. Why?”“Valeriya? I hear her father is some kinda’ mafia kingpin.” I don’t take my eyes off him, trying to assess his level of knowledge.The doctor’s face is granite. “I cannot discuss her with you.”“She’s a client?”“Enough that I cannot discuss.”I fold the prescription and tuck it into my back pocket. For a moment, I stare at him, wondering if I can get him to say more. My instincts tell me she’s making dirty deals. She’s been working an angle or more than one behind the scenes. Who
Sierra’s POVFlint's chest is pressed to my face. He's grappling for the gun at his waistband as his other arm helps shield me. It has to be the adrenaline. His injuries are still healing, and I've watched him walk enough the last few days to know he's stiff and sore. His movements are sure, fluid, painless.He glances at me, tucking his chin to meet my eyes. "Were you hit?"I swallow. My shoulder stings. Is the pain from a bullet or how he dragged me to the ground? "I'm fine."Flint breaks eye contact to scan the rest of the area. "Jay!""Here.""Ricardo?" Silence greets his second roll call. He has me pinned so close to the floor I can't see what else is happening."He's down." Jay shuffles to the door."Dead?" Flint says."Not sure.""Shit." Flint's free hand holds the gun, but our position means his back is to the entrance. "Any more shots?""Haven't heard anything for a minute.""Target?""Take your fucking pick. Could be you, Sierra, or Ricardo. You're all hot depending on who's
Flint’s POVThe next morning, Sierra wears dark glasses and won't meet my gaze. Is she pissed at me for what I said last night, or does she regret coming on to me? Probably both.We file into the car. Jay eyes the two of us in the rearview mirror but understands Sierra well enough not to speak. We're headed to the location where the FBI agent is holed up waiting for his forged documents to start over. Jay runs a tight ship for Sierra, and his ability to get shit done is impressive."How far away is this place?" I ask as the city fades into the distance."About half an hour," Jay replies."Perfect." I peek at Sierra's stony face and settle deeper into the seat. I slide my hands along my thighs, and I consider the least assholeish thing to say. "Sleep okay?""Shut up, Flint."Guess that wasn't it. "Jetlag can be a bitch."Sierra tips her glasses down her nose and looks at me over the top of them. My mind flashes to every sexy teacher fantasy I’ve ever had. As though she senses the tight