Page 57 of The Agent
“You were devastated again,” she whispered.
He nodded, his throat going tight. “I couldn’t take any more loss, you know? The people closest to me, my anchors? I thought I’d never lose them. But I did, and it left me gutted. I went through the motions, eventually. I needed something to bury myself in, and work was all I had, at that point. But after Gabi died, I was too scared to lose anyone else.”
Understanding dawned on Camila’s face all at once, everything Roman had been stuffing down for years finally out in the open. “So you pushed everyone away.That’swhy you keep everyone at arm’s length.”
“It’s not that I want to,” Roman said, because Christ, he missed having a family. Friends. Someone to hold as he fell asleep at night, and someone who would hold him back. “I just…I don’t think I’d survive it again, you know? The risk scares the shit out of me, so I push people away.”
“That’s one hell of a defense mechanism,” Camila said, no trace of judgment in her voice.
Roman’s laugh in response didn’t hold any joy. “Well, you blew it to fucking pieces.” Here he was, in the middle of an FBI safe house, spouting out feelings that hadn’t seen daylight in years. Might as well tell her everything—she was the only person he trusted.
“For five years, I kept everything on lockdown. Every emotion, good or bad, went into the vault. I lost friends. Distanced myself from my old man. Even my unit-mates don’t really know me. But you showed up in that bar and grill and upended everything. I wanted you so much. I’ve wanted you every night since. And now, I don’t know how to not want you.”
Camila turned off both burners, then took his face in her hands. “Hey. Roman, look at me.”
He did, and she was so beautiful that it hurt.
“I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere. I’m so sorry you’ve endured so much loss.” She kissed him softly, anchoring him to the moment. Toher. “I’m sorry because it hurt you so deeply, but also because it made you close yourself off. You are such a good man. You might bury it and try to hide it from others, but I see you. The man who puts himself in harm’s way to keep strangers safe. Who spends his free time making sure hungry people get fed. Who literally saved my life tonight. You deserve to share that goodness with people and not be afraid of losing them.”
The words unlocked something inside of him, and he pulled her close, holding her like a lifeline. “Thank you,” he whispered into her hair.
He hadn’t thought it possible, but she held him even tighter. “Solidarity. You’ve got my back, and I’ve got yours.”
And there, in the safety of Camila’s arms, Roman let himself do something he hadn’t for the past six years.
He felt everything.
* * *
Archer watchedthe breaking news on three different local outlets, examining each clip for even the smallest details while rage filled his chest. This bank robbery plan had taken nearly a year to properly hatch, growing from a hazy idea to an intricate, highly detailed series of steps that had been nearly fucking foolproof. Archer had put months’ worth of thought and research into it, meticulously studying everything from security systems and floor plans to psychological studies on fear.Hehad been the brains behind the entire thing. He’d considered every angle. He’d done every ounce of the hard work.
Pulling the jobs off alone would have been impossible, of course. He’d needed players he could trust, yeah, but also ones he could control. Archer had brought Portia on board because she’d do whatever he told her, up to and including commit a series of felonies that could potentially land her in prison for the rest of her life, although he could admit that a smaller part of him had been driven by remorse for leaving her in that shit situation with their step-monster. Thorn had been more of a wild card. Archer had always known that cutting him in had been risky, and he’d planned accordingly. He’d needed a third person to make this work, though, someone without a conscience but who could be managed. Archer had needed to finesse every move—Thorn’s hair trigger was real, and his penchant for violence, even more so.
He just hadn’t thought Thorn would be so stupid when shit got critical. The consequences of his stunt tonight would be dire.
They’d all end up paying for what he’d done.
The door between the garage and the house creaked open, the sound of heavy bootsteps kicking Archer’s pulse into gear. He waited until Thorn got halfway through the darkened kitchen before deciding to use the surprise to his advantage.
“Where have you been?” he asked, satisfaction unfolding in his chest as Thorn startled.
“Fuck, Arch. Make a little noise, would you?” Thorn slapped at the light switch, turning to nail Archer with a glare. “Next time, I might shoot you by accident.”
“Where have you been?” Archer repeated. He was going to need to know every detail before he could decide how to proceed.
Thorn shrugged. “Out.”
Archer lifted a brow. “You killed a cop in cold blood eight hours ago. Is there something about ‘lay low’ that doesn’t make sense to you?”
“I needed to blow off steam,” Thorn said, his voice loaded with disdain. “What are you, my mother now?”
Portia appeared in the doorway to the kitchen, dressed in a tank top and pajama pants, her blond hair sleep-tangled. “What’s going on?” she asked, and while Archer hadn’t really wanted to do this in front of her, he wasn’t about to skip it or put it off.
“Thorn was just trying to dance around the fact that he snuck out of the house a few hours ago to try to publicly kill the woman who witnessed the three of us robbing a bank last week.”
Thorn actually had the balls to look shocked, and good Christ, he was more of a liability than ever. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said as Portia gasped, but Archer didn’t back down.
“Yes, you fucking do,” he bit out, clicking his laptop to life and swinging the screen bearing theRemington Daily News’s home page to face Thorn. “You went after Camila Garza and tried to kill her after I specifically told you not to.”