Page 35 of Fully Loaded

He growled and pulled her against his chest. “I’m sorry, baby. I wish I could take it back and that I hadn’t been so bullheaded back then.”

She pressed her face into the crook of his neck and let him recline on the mattress with her still in his arms. All the anger of the last three years left her body. Tears leaked out of her eyes for the love she so desperately missed. Yes, he’d been wrong to do what he’d done, wrong to not have been honest with her, but maybe she should have tried harder, listened to his apology, and learned to forgive sooner. The well of regret that she’d been digging since the incident began to fill in with peace. She needed him. She needed this. But as much as she wished this meant they could bridge the gap between their differences, the hard truth remained: He was a thief. She was now an international criminal. What was it Rhett had said?

If you survive the next twenty-four hours, you’ll spend the rest of your lives in prison.

A relationship just wasn’t something she could indulge in right now. Instead, she’d take every kiss he gave and prepare for the inevitable devastating catastrophe that would separate them. He kissed the top of her head and drew lazy circles on her back until sleep pulled her into its depths.

Chapter

Thirteen

Brock pinched the cell phone between his ear and shoulder and moved into the sitting room, closing the pocket door behind him. Dani was still asleep. They’d both gotten eight hours, and right now he could run a marathon. He toyed with the flash drive in his fingers, turning the tiny, catastrophic device between his thumb and forefinger. The line clicked and the long-distance ring sounded in his ear.

He’d missed Rhett’s call an hour ago and hoped to hell he had some insight on the tattoo.

Rhett answered on the third ring. “Hello.”

“Hey, it’s . . . me.” The odds of someone listening in on Rhett’s call were slim, but he couldn’t take any chances. Dani was right—Rhett was the only person in law enforcement they could trust at this point. Two years ago, Rhett had given Milo the opportunity to work as a mole for the FBI and get information on when Alban Moussa had his diamond auction. Thanks to Milo’s work, the FBI had raided Alban’s that night and recovered four million dollars in illegally imported blood diamonds. Rhett had granted Milo immunity from his previous heists, allowing him to walk away from stealing without doing jail time.

“Hey,” Rhett said, his voice dropping to a whisper. “One sec.” A minute passed, and Brock wondered if he’d hung up. “Sorry. I needed to get somewhere secure. Glad to hear you’re still alive. How’s Dani?”

Images of the previous night flashed through Brock’s head. She was well sated, but he sure wasn’t going to tell Rhett that. “She’s good. Sleeping. We didn’t know what to do while we waited to hear from you so we’re in Paris right now. We’re going to try to figure out who’s behind hiring Sven.”

“Look, I think you guys should turn yourselves in. If you go to the US embassy?—”

“Hell no.”

Rhett sighed with exasperation. “This isn’t about you anymore. That information you have could wipe out half the fucking planet. The most important thing is to get that formula in safe hands, and turning it over to the authorities will help your case.”

“We can’t trust anyone. A man tried to strangle Dani to death the other night. He was an Interpol agent.”

Silence beat through the phone. “Yeah. I heard about the murdered Interpol guy on the news. I tried to do some digging on what he was doing without turning attention to myself, but I hit a brick wall.”

“Fishy, isn’t it?”

“I agree. But once you’re in the embassy, there’ll be a whole team of people to protect the data.”

“And to possibly leak it. There’s no encryption on this flash drive,” he said, waving it in the air. “Dani copied it from Ubrigg’s computer as if it were a résumé. It’s not safeguarded at all. If there’s one fucking person in that building who’s in on this, we could be handing it over to the terrorists directly.”

“That’s a bit of a stretch.”

“Are you willing to take that chance when we know for certain an Interpol agent was involved?”

“What’s your plan?” Rhett barked, ignoring his question.

“To expose everyone who’s in on this and keep as many innocent people alive in the process as possible.”

“If it’s as intricate as you suspect, the web of accomplices could be endless.”

Brock deposited the flash drive in his jeans and rubbed his hand over the top of his head. “Where are you at with the tattoo?”

Rhett sighed as if he didn’t want to give up the previous topic. “You guys are right. It’s cult related. There’s a group called the Peace Makers, and they seem to do anything but keep the peace, according to the tabloids.”

“A vigilante type of thing?”

“Could be. There’s a lot indicating their views about the overpopulation of the world.” Disdain hung on Rhett’s words. “Another thought is that someone hired them in an attempt to have their circle take the rap so as not to expose who’s really behind this.”

“And that is?”