Page 59 of The FBI Agents Who Stole Me

His eyes squeeze shut.

“You were working me."

“No.”

“Then what were you doing?” My voice cracks. “Because every question you asked... every time you told me I didn't have to carry it alone...” I shake my head. “Were you trying to get me to talk?”

“Yes.”

The single word guts me.

I laugh, but it comes out broken.

“God, you should get an Emmy.” I wipe angrily at my face. “You acted like you actually were worried about me. That day I realized I lov—” The word dies in my throat.

My shoulders shake with a sob I can't swallow back.

“Lee,” he pleads, reaching for me.

“No.”

Julian steps between us.

“Give her some space,” he says quietly.

Elliot hesitates, and I still can’t look at him. It’s stupid, but for one short second, I want him to refuse. I want him to force me to believe some part of us was real.

I’m so fucked-up.

And I don’t know how not to be.

CHAPTER 18

Julian

She stops crying. I’ve never liked seeing anyone cry, but I almost killed Elliot. What the fuck was he thinking? Can I trust him to help her out of this?

I’ve spent weeks convincing myself there would be another way. I’ve held it from Ettie and Elliot, hoping it wouldn’t come down to this.

I'm going to have to call in a favor I swore I'd die before using. It means a life that I won’t have much control over, but at least Ettie will make it out of this.

My stomach drops when I think of the life she can go off and have with Elliot. It’ll be the right call though.

“Julian.” Her voice is hoarse, and her face stays pressed into my shirt. “Do you hate me for crying to you about Elliot? I just can’t believe I fell for him. I had no idea what was going on. I’m an idiot.”

She sniffles into my shirt again.

“I could never hate you. Not being with you all this time left me in pieces.” I exhale slowly, forcing the next words out past every selfish part of me. “I won’t do it again. Even if I have to put up with Elliot too.”

She sets her palm on my stomach.

“You can’t mean that. How could we ever…”

Ettie lets out a shaky breath, then she yawns.

“Tired?”

“Exhausted. I’m going to shower and fall into bed.” Her fingers bunch in my shirt as she lifts her face to mine. “Come with me?”