Page 120 of Ford

“You’re just trying to log onto your email, right?”

He looked up at her. “How’d you—”

“I’m not blind. I saw you two, York. I know you have feelings for my sister.”

He just stared at the screen as he pulled up his email program.

“RJ is a good person.”

“I know—”

“And so are you.”

He said nothing. But he pulled up a blank email.

“You need to forgive yourself for something you had no control over—Tasha’s death. Just because she made a mistake doesn’t mean you have to spend your life paying for it. Come back to America with me. Start over.”

Start over.

Dear RJ,

The cursor blinked. Outside, the dawn had begun to dent the gray, the stars chased away.

Kat is ok. We are…

He looked up at Kat. She gave him a tight smile. He wanted to smile back, but he turned back to the computer.

…going to Vladivostok as planned.

He breathed out. Nodded.

Be safe.

He debated his valediction and finally decided on,

Your friend, York.

He sent the note.

“I can’t let Gustov go free,” he said quietly.

“Gustov won’t go free. The CIA will find him.”

“They don’t even know what he looks like.”

Another email had come into his account and he tapped it open.

Froze. Oh…he couldn’t breathe—no—

“What’s the matter? You look like you’re going to throw up.” Kat leaned over and winced. “Tell me before I rip my stitches out.”

He turned his computer around and closed his eyes. No, please—

“Is that—that’s RJ. And—is someone kissing her?”

So he’d seen it correctly. RJ shoved up against the cement entrance of the metro on the Yekaterinburg platform, a man pressed against her, kissing her.

His hand around her throat.