“The Nécessaire,” Lefty growls. There’s a gleam of excitement in his eyes as they lock on the Egg in my hands. “Hand it over.”
“As soon as you slide me the detonator,” I counter. “Carefully. Unless you’d like your Egg to go boom as well.”
He doesn’t move.
“I came alone, like you said. I’m not armed. I kept my part of this bargain,” I point out. “Time to keep yours, Evanoff.”
“Vik,” Righty grunts. “Give it to her so we can get the fuck out of here.”
Looking like he’s just swallowed a glass of vinegar, Lefty leans over and slides the detonator down the sloping driveway. It skids to a stop by my feet and, for the first time in hours, I feel a smidge of relief.
Maybe I’ll actually walk out of here in one piece.
My hands shake as I bend over and carefully lift the small remote, careful not to put my fingers anywhere near the red detonation button.
“The Egg!” Lefty snaps, impatient as ever. “Now!”
My eyes swing up to his. “Sure. Of course. Here.”
Without wasting another breath on them, I toss the Egg straight up, as high into the air as I can manage. Gasping in horror, both Evanoffs scramble to catch it before it crashes to the ground.
While they’re momentarily distracted — and, thus, unable to change their minds about shooting me — I take the opportunity to turn and bolt fast as I can without disturbing the belt of explosives still wrapped tight around my chest.
Back to the street.
Back to safety.
Back to Conor, who’s waiting for me by the Jeep.
There’s an intense look in his eyes as he sees me coming — one I’ve never seen before. One that steals my breath, hits me straight in the chest. One with so many different layers, it’s hard to decipher all of them at once.
Impatience, anger, worry, longing, fear.
And love.
Most of all, love. It’s there, so clear I can’t deny it. Burning so bright, I can’t mistake it. Undeniable. Inescapable. And as I take it in, as I feel it rushing over me like a warm wave that starts in the left side of my chest and radiates outward, until every part of me feels set aflame, alight with the power of it…
For the first time, I find myself believing. Believing that it’s actually possible. That he really did mean those three little words he spoke to me.
This man truly loves me.
Me.
The woman I am. Not the woman he wishes I could be or the woman he thought I might be. Not the illusion I always thought I had to show the world — the perfect woman who lives in the perfect house with the perfect life.
The imperfect one.
The real one.
The real me.
Conor Gallagher loves me.
Truly.
Deeply.
Unconditionally.
More than a limitless fortune.
And I love him in return.
Ten minutes later, thanks to Conor’s careful work, I’m breathing freely for the first time in hours. The weight of the bomb is gone from my chest. And the Evanoff brothers are long gone as well — we watched their brake lights disappear down the block as soon as they had the Egg in their possession.
The sun is setting, now, and the street is still abandoned. Before, I found it rather eerie. But now that the standoff is finally over, I look around at my empty neighborhood and think it’s actually rather peaceful.
Just me and Conor.
The only two people in the entire world.
“I can’t believe it’s finally over,” I whisper, looking over at him. We’re leaning against the side of his Jeep, arms locked around each other’s waists, watching the sun sink slowly across the sky in a gorgeous pastel tableau.
“Believe it,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to my temple. “You’re alive. Paul is in custody. Alexei Petrov is long gone. And the Evanoffs are halfway to the New Hampshire border, by now.”
I shake my head. “I still can’t believe you did that.”
“What?”
“Let them go. Gave up everything — the Nécessaire. The chance to arrest the Evanoff brothers, after everything they did, all the people they hurt… just for me. That’s crazy.”
“What was the alternative?” he asks lowly. “Let them kill you?”
“Yes! Rather than sacrifice all that… rather than give up everything…” I bite my lip, feeling tears prick at my eyes. “I don’t know how you could do it.”
“Shelby.” He turns to look into my eyes, taking my face between his hands. “Haven’t you been paying attention? There’s nothing I would not do for you. Nothing I would not sacrifice.”
“But—”
“No buts. No limits,” he whispers. “I love you.”
I stare at him. One, two, three long seconds. And then, without any fear whatsoever, I whisper, “I love you, too.”
Chapter Seventeen
AFTER PARTY
“How are you feeling?”
“Honesty? I’m pissed,” Lucy Sykes says, sitting up in her hospital bed. There are bandages on her arms, a cast encasing her left leg, and some bruises on her face, but otherwise she looks remarkably good for someone who’s recently come out of a coma.
“Pissed?” I blink. “Why — do you need more painkillers? I can call the nurse.”
“Don’t you dare,” she grumbles. “Bad enough I missed all the action over the past few days. Now you’re going to call Nurse Ratched in here to force another pudding cup down my throat.”
Conor snorts.
I roll my eyes. “Trust me, it wasn’t that exciting.”
“Says the girl who had a bomb strapped to her chest while she faced off with the Evanoff brothers.” Her eyes narrow as they move from me to Conor. “Tell me you’ve got some surveillance footage I can check check out from the scene. Or at least give me some files to go over, while I’m stuck in this damn hospital bed.”
“Lucy, has anyone ever told you you’re a workaholic?”
She grins. “Only those who know me well.”
“Sykes.” Conor crosses his arms over his chest. “Just focus on getting well. We’ll need you to testify at the trial — it would be nice if you were alive and able to do so.”
“Oh, trust me, I’ll be there. Even if they have to roll me in on a stretcher.” Her ice blue eyes gleam. “Nothing in the world will stop me from witnessing the moment Viktor and Vladimir Evanoff are sentenced to life in prison without even the faintest possibility of parole.”
I can’t lie, I’m looking forward to that day as well. Knowing they’re locked up behind bars is comforting, but I’ll feel even better when we’ve thrown away the key.
Dasvidaniya, boys.
I’ll never forget how relieved I was to learn that, during our tense negotiations in the kitchen, Evelson had climbed through a small window in the garage and sliced an undetectable — but extremely effective — hole in the brake lines of my convertible.
Riding off with the Egg, the Evanoffs made it approximately two blocks from my house before their luck ran out — along with the remainder of their brake fluid. They plowed through an intersection and slammed into a tree, thus putting an end to their glorious plans of returning to the Motherland as heroes.
They tried to shoot their way out, of course, but the FBI tactical teams were on them before they could so much as scramble out of the car with their guns in the air. Kaufman and Evelson had them on the ground and in handcuffs within seconds.
As for the Nécessaire… I’m sure it will look quite beautiful when we see it again next month — safely behind glass this time, during its grand debut at the MFA’s new Romanov Exhibit. And there it will remain for the foreseeable future… At least until Alexei Petrov sends more thugs to try to steal it back.
When he does, we’ll be ready.
“You know, you guys didn’t have to check on me.” Lucy’s eyes move from me to Conor and back again. “Together, I might add.”
“Was th
ere a question buried somewhere in there, Sykes?” Conor asks.
“No question.” Her lips are twisted in a smile. “Merely an observation.”
I fight a blush. “Oh. Well… the thing is…”
“You’re together.” Lucy rolls her eyes. “About damn time, too.”
“Excuse me?” My brows go up. “I’ve known him for, like, a week! What do you mean, about damn time?”
“Oh, please. The only people who didn’t know you two were going to end up together… were the two of you.” She shakes her head. “Kaufman, Evelson and I actually had a pool going to see how long it would take. Hundred buck buy-in.”
“What?” I gasp, nose scrunching. “And, not that I condone you betting on our love life, but… who won the pool?”
“Kaufman,” she mutters darkly. “Optimistic bastard. Pegged you two falling head over heels in about three minutes. I, on the other hand, am a cynic. Thought it would take a month, given all the drama with your ex.” Her eyes light up. “Heard he finally signed those divorce papers, though. Congrats on officially being a free woman once more.”
“Thanks.” I grin. “Not being married has never felt so good.”
“Mmmm. Well, we’ll see how long that lasts.” Her eyes are twinkling playfully as they shoot back and forth between me and Conor. “May be time to call Evelson and Kaufman, get a new pool going…”
“Apparently my agents have so much free time they’re starting in-house gambling rings.” Conor’s trying to look stern, but his mouth is tugged up at one side. “Guess I’ll just have to pile on the work when you come back to the office, Sykes.”
“Bring it on. I’m bored to tears in this hospital bed. I can handle a heavy caseload but, so help me god, if I have to eat one more pudding cup…”
“Don’t worry, you’ll be plenty busy. You’re going to have to juggle some extra cases.”
“Oh? Whose?”
“Mine.” Conor shrugs. “Since I’ll be taking some time off.”
“I’m sorry… it sounded like you just said you were taking time off, Gallagher.” Lucy’s blonde brows are by her hairline.
“Glad to know your ears weren’t affected by the blast, Sykes.”
She’s still staring. “You. Conor Gallagher. Taking time off.”
He nods.
“But you never take time off.”
“You’re right. Which is why I have about ten years worth of vacation days to use up. I intend to use them now.”
“Doing what?”
“A two-month road trip across the country, for starters.” His eyes cut to mine, full of warmth. “As long as my co-pilot hasn’t changed her mind…”
“Nope. Assuming I still have veto-power over your music choices, that is…” I wince. “I can not listen to Springsteen for five thousand miles, no matter how cute you look while singing Dancing in the Dark off-key in the Wrangler.”
He shakes his head at me. “You have no appreciation for the classics, Hunt.”
“You… but…” Sykes is having a hard time processing. “I can’t believe what I’m hearing.”
“Believe it.”
“This is a whole new world I’ve woken up to, huh, Gallagher?” Sykes is still baffled. “I mean… won’t you miss it? You live for this job…”
Conor never looks away from me. “I’m learning there are better things to live for, Sykes.”
My eyes gloss over with tears. I reach my hand out to him. Lacing our fingers together, he pulls me up from my seat, into his warm chest. When his lips brush mine, they’re still curved from his smile.
“Ugh. You two are disgustingly cute. Get out of my hospital room before I go into diabetic shock from this display of sweetness.” Sykes shoos us toward the door. “Oh, and Gallagher—”
At the threshold, Conor looks back at her.
“In case I didn’t say this before… I’m really happy for you.” Her eyes slide to me. “For both of you.”
“You ready?”
I glance at Conor as he loads the last suitcase into the Wrangler. “Ready.”
We climb into the Jeep. Leaning over, he kisses me — a long, lingering one that makes my heart soar inside my chest and my blood race with desire. When he pulls back, we’re both breathing hard.
“Maybe we should postpone this trip for a few hours,” he murmurs, eyes full of heat. “I have some very important matters to discuss with you concerning our route…”
“Oh, really?”
“Mhmm.”
“And where, exactly, would you like to discuss these important matters?” I ask. “Let me guess… in bed.”
He grins — a carefree, almost boyish look of such pure happiness it makes my breath catch. Seeing him like that — knowing I’m the cause — never gets old.
“It’ll be a very official, entirely legitimate vacation-planning session,” he informs me. “We can discuss more of the places we want to stop… Go over our map one more time…” He pauses. “If we happen to be naked for said discussion, so be it.”
“This is exactly what you said this morning! Which is exactly how we ended up in bed all day and missed our scheduled departure time!”
He chuckles.
I narrow my eyes at him. “Don’t laugh, Gallagher! We are now officially late for our itinerary!”
“Know I’m new to this whole vacation thing, Hunt… but I’m pretty sure the whole point is to relax and not follow an itinerary.”
“Just start the car, bossy.”
“As soon as you strap your seatbelt, stubborn.”
He grins at me.
I roll my eyes at him.
And as we pull out of the driveway and turn down Merriweather Street, leaving behind the perfect house where I spent so many years living a not-so-perfect life… Conor reaches for my hand and a smile spreads across my face.
I don’t look back.
Not even once.
There are far better things ahead.
* * *
THE END
Need more Boston?
Not ready to leave Boston behind? Don’t worry…
Go back to the very beginning with Chase & Gemma’s story in NOT YOU IT’S ME.
(You’ll find an excerpt at the back of this book!)
* * *
Fall for Nate & Phoebe in CROSS THE LINE.
Don’t miss Parker & Zoe in ONE GOOD REASON.
Laugh along with Lila & Luca in TAKE YOUR TIME.
* * *
All books are now available in e-book, paperback, and audio!
* * *
THE BOSTON LOVE STORIES:
NOT YOU IT’S ME
CROSS THE LINE
ONE GOOD REASON
TAKE YOUR TIME
Never miss a new release! Make sure you’ve subscribed to Julie's newsletter: http://eepurl.com/bnWtHH
About the Author
JULIE JOHNSON is a twenty-something Boston native suffering from an extreme case of Peter Pan Syndrome. When she's not writing, Julie can most often be found adding stamps to her passport, drinking too much coffee, striving to conquer her Netflix queue, and Instagramming pictures of her dog. (Follow her: @author_julie)
She published her debut novel LIKE GRAVITY in August 2013, just before her senior year of college, and she's never looked back. Since, she has published a dozen more novels, including the bestselling BOSTON LOVE STORY series, THE GIRL DUET, and, most recently, THE FADED DUET. Her books have appeared on Kindle and iTunes Bestseller lists around the world, as well as in AdWeek, Publishers Weekly, and USA Today.
You can find Julie on Facebook or contact her on her website www.juliejohnsonbooks.com. Sometimes, when she can figure out how Twitter works, she tweets from @AuthorJulie. For major book news and updates, subscribe to Julie's newsletter: http://eepurl.com/bnWtHH
* * *
Connect with Julie:
www.juliejohnsonbooks.com
[email protected]
Also by Julie Johnson
STANDALONE NOVELS:
SAY THE WORD
FAITHLESS
THE BOSTON LOVE STORIES:
NOT YOU IT’S ME
CROSS THE LINE
ONE GOOD REASON
TAKE YOUR TIME
THE GIRL DUET:
THE MONDAY GIRL
THE SOMEDAY GIRL
UNCHARTED
THE FADED DUET:
FADED: part one
UNFADED: part two
Next up…
Fall in love with Gemma & Chase in NOT YOU IT’S ME, book #1 in the BOSTON LOVE STORIES.
* * *
Turn the page to read the first chapter!
One kiss. Two strangers. No strings attached.
The only problem is, Chase is used to getting whatever he wants. And after kissing Gemma once, he knows one thing…
He wants more.
NOT YOU IT’S ME
CHAPTER ONE
Caller 100
* * *
The dial tone buzzes in my ear, mocking me — just as it’s done the last two times I called the studio.
Damn.
I don’t even know why I bother. I never win this kind of thing. Whether it’s scratch tickets, lottery numbers, or radio call-in prizes, I’ve got worse luck than a black cat breaking a mirror on Friday the 13th, because I’ve yet to win a damn thing.
What’s that quote about doing the same thing over and over, but expecting a different result?
Oh, right. That’s the definition of insanity.
And yet, I keep calling.
Sighing, I pause with my finger poised over the power button of my cellphone. I know the sane, logical thing to do is throw it onto the passenger seat, shut off my car — which has begun to rattle ominously as I’ve been idling at the curb — and go inside… but I can’t seem to stop myself.
So Wrong It's Right Page 23