When we were finally alone, Super Agent reached out and traced a finger along my jaw. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine. I wish your guys hadn’t busted down the door when they did. What kind of high-school dropouts is the FBI hiring these days?”

“They thought there might be trouble. They heard yelling.”

“That was me giving my idiot brother the lecture he deserved. One of your guys whacked Miguel with a club. Was that totally necessary?”

“I heard he resisted arrest.”

“And I heard my boyfriend promise me I wouldn’t end up in handcuffs when all this shook out.” I held up my hands to show him the marks from the cuffs. “I also heard him say no one would get hurt.” I wasn’t quite over seeing Miguel get struck by that agent. I could beat the crap out of my brother, but I’d kill anyone who tried to lay a finger on him.

“I’m sorry about that. Since you didn’t follow the plan, the agents sent to get you weren’t up to speed on who everyone was.”

“There were only two of us! We’re twins. It’s not that hard to figure out.”

He looked like he was trying to suppress a laugh. He took a deep breath and let it out. “Like I said, I’m sorry.”

“You put a tracker on me, didn’t you?” I’d wondered how his FBI guys had found us and a tracker was the only explanation I could come up with. I should’ve been mad at his nodded confirmation, but I was more curious about how he’d managed it. “How? I ditched everything.”

“Your lipstick. You’re never without it.”

“Well, dang. A girl likes to think she’s a little bit mysterious.”

“Trust me. You’re a constant riddle with an ever-changing solution. What did you get from Miguel?”

“It’s like I suspected. Sergei took the money.”

“And you were going to tell me this when…?”

“When I knew for sure. Miguel managed to get the offshore bank account number. As far as I can tell, Sergei doesn’t know he has it.”

Super Agent pulled out his cell phone. “Castro has the info we need. A bank account. Yeah. Really? Okay. Thanks.” He punched the End button on the call. “Miguel’s copping to the stolen car. He’s saying it was all his idea.”

“My brother’s an idiot who got in bed with the Russian mob. Not quite the mastermind behind our little escape job.” I jabbed my thumb to my chest. “That would be me.”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear you say that. If Miguel gives us the info we need, he could get total immunity. You would not. So I wouldn’t repeat what you just told me.”

“Oh.” I couldn’t help but be surprised that Miguel would take responsibility. Maybe he really was changing. “Got it.”

Super Agent leaned back in his chair a little, studying me. I could tell he was working up to something…something he didn’t really want to ask, but the FBI Special Agent in him wouldn’t let it go. “You were right to tell Miguel the room was wired.”

“You heard our whole conversation.” Dang it. What was with my lousy luck lately?

He put up a hand. “It’s up to you to fill in the blanks when and if you feel like it.”

I bent over and scrubbed my hands over my face. There were those darn tears again. He wanted to know about something I didn’t dare breathe a word of for fear of the repercussions. “I assume the microphone is still on.”

“It’s off, but like I said, it’s up to you when, how, and if you want to talk about it.”

“I know you. You’ll just try to dig up the info on your own.”

“No, Maggie, I won’t. Not on this. I just wanted you to know I heard the conversation. That’s all.”

“I can’t talk about it. Ever. There’s too much at stake. If it was just me… I can’t. Please try to understand.”

“I do.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that.”

I stared at him, not quite able to believe it was that simple. Where I came from there was always an agenda, always a knife pressed into your back. But I could see deep in his eyes that it was that simple for him. He was giving me his word, and I knew from experience that the man never went back on it.

And maybe that’s why after all I’d gone through to keep the secret, I was finally ready to tell it—to him.

“I had a baby that I put up for adoption,” I blurted out.

Super Agent’s eyes widened for a fraction of a second. He hadn’t expected my declaration.

“Sergei’s baby.”

It didn’t feel good to finally get it out. It wasn’t a relief. It was the second most terrifying thing I’d ever done in my life. I hadn’t talked to anyone about it. Ever. And now that I’d uncorked it, I couldn’t stop the flow of words. They gushed out of me faster than I could think about what to say or how to phrase it.

I told him about my friend, Bea, and holding her as she died. I told him about the sheer panic of clutching a positive pregnancy test in my hand after I had finally, finally broken free from Sergei and how if he’d found out, he’d never have let me go. I told him about the steps I’d had to take—a fake ID, moving out of state, finding adoptive parents, giving birth alone—just to give my child a better life than anything I could’ve ever managed to provide.

Then there were the things I didn’t have words for, like the constant ache of missing my baby. And how sometimes it would rise up inside of me when I wasn’t paying attention and grip me like a fist, stealing my breath.

He must’ve heard something in my voice or saw something in my face because he suddenly dropped to his knees in front of me and gripped my face in his hands. And that was when I told him about the pictures that arrived every year on her birthday and how I kept them in an envelope in the hidden compartment of my dresser. And how I was terrified everyday that Sergei would somehow find out and what he might do.

I hadn’t wanted that life for myself and I sure as heck hadn’t wanted it for a child. Every year that passed brought a kind of hesitant relief. I didn’t dare fully relax until her eighteenth birthday, and even then I knew I’d never really be free until either Sergei or I was dead.

“Maggie,” Super Agent whispered, his breath making my cheeks cold. And that was when I realized I was crying. “I’ve got you.”

I shook my head, wondering why he’d even want me. I was a catastrophe on top of a disaster. Even when I tried to do the right thing I always managed to screw it up. And then he kissed me and every question I had was answered, every doubt soothed away. He loved me. But it wasn’t any kind of love I’d ever felt before. It was better and stronger than anything I ever could’ve imagined.

He eased out of the kiss and smoothed back the strands of hair that stuck to my cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” I captured his hand in mine and tilted my head into the caress. “What’s going to happen to Sergei?”

“Should I be jealous?”

“If you only knew what I had to do to get out. Cutting my arm off would’ve been less painful. Going back there…to that life…even for a few hours to save Miguel…” I shook my head. “Never again.”

“Good.” He twisted a ropey length of my hair around his finger. “Because I’m not done with you yet.”

“But he’s going to jail, right?” I really needed that assurance.

He released the strand and gave me a very direct stare that dared me not to lie to him. “Did he threaten you?”

Sergei didn’t have to threaten me. I had more than one reminder on my body of how he’d destroyed my life and what he’d taken from me. Besides his tattoo on my chest, I had an intricate lace of flowered vines across my abdomen that not only spelled out the word “precious” in Greek—if you knew to look for it—it covered the stretch marks from my pregnancy. That tattoo ensured I’d never forget what being with Sergei had cost me.

I shook my head. “Please tell me he’s going away.”

“If convicted, he could get lengthy jail time and a steep fine.”

“How lengthy?”

“Depends on the charges he gets convicted for and the judge. The bigger and broader the swindle the longer the jail term. Judges don’t like to see little old ladies bilked out of their life savings.”

“What about mob bosses?”

“You mean Kostya?”

I nodded.

“Unless Miguel can give us something on him, he’ll probably walk away from this.”

And that would be worse for Sergei than any prison term. My feelings for Sergei were a jumbled mess, but one thing I knew for sure—I didn’t wish for anything Kostya would visit upon him.

“What’s going to happen to Miguel? You mentioned immunity. Please tell me that means he’s not going to prison.”

“The U.S. Attorney’s office is very anxious to hear what Miguel has to say. Miguel’s lawyer should have no problem working out a deal that will likely mean no jail time.”

“You’re so sexy when you use words like ‘deal’ and ‘no jail time’.”

“What about words like ‘you’re free to go’?”

“Ooh, dang. That’s so hot. If this room wasn’t such a fishbowl I’d totally mount you like a polo pony.”

Laughing his deep, rich chuckle, he stood and held his hand out to me. “Then let’s get out of here and make up for lost time.”

I put my hand in his and pressed up against him. Fisting the front of his shirt, I hauled him in close. “By the way, Super Agent, I’m not done with you yet either. Not by a long shot.”