She started to cry. “Sawyer . . . I wish I could see you.”
“Got your phone? We could Facetime.”
She laughed through the tears. Only her husband could make her laugh when they were about to die. “No, it’s in Asa’s car. But maybe one of my brothers does.” She got up and went over to her brothers, rifling through Mitch’s pocket until her hand bumped into a cell. “Found one. What’s your number?”
She dialed as he recited it to her. Then she returned to her spot on the floor, sitting with her back up against the door. He answered, his handsome face coming in so clear, she could see the dark circles under his eyes. “Hi.”
“You’re beautiful,” he said softly. “Hey, there’s one thing more I want to know before we die.”
“Anything.”
“What’s your natural hair color?”
She laughed again. “Blonde. I’m a natural blonde.”
He smiled sadly. “I’m glad when I die, I get to do it while looking at you. Thank God for technology, right?”
“Normally, I’d agree, but it’s technology that’s killing us.” How was that for irony? Technology would kill her techie husband. “The bomb can only be disarmed through shutting down the timer, and my father used some kind of app—”
“Let me see it,” he ordered.
“What?”
“Let me see the bomb. Now.”
“Okay.” She scurried over to the briefcase, holding her breath as she released the latch and opened it. She turned her phone around, giving him a good view of the bomb.
“I’m hanging up,” he said.
“So much for dying while looking at me,” she said to herself.
“I can hack into the timer through my phone,” he announced from outside. “Well, through the Internet.”
Hope burst through her. “Hurry, we only have one minute left.”
Her heart was about to fly out of her chest as she waited to see if her brilliant husband could save their lives.
“I picked up the signal,” he said. “Now, I . . . damn it.”
“What?”
“Firewall.” He cursed loudly. “Let me try this.”
She watched as the timer counted down. “Thirty seconds!”
“There. It’s working. I’m in.”
“Ten seconds!” she shouted.
Nine.
Eight.
Seven.
Six.
Five.
Four.
The bomb’s clock went black, and the numbers disappeared.
“Did the timer turn off?” Sawyer asked.
She inhaled a shaky breath. “Yes.”
“Then I’m coming in.”
She quickly unlocked the door and then threw it open. Sawyer swooped in, and she jumped into his arms. His lips slanted over hers, desperate and hot. She held onto him, her fingers in that hair she loved so much.
It was finally over.
She was free.
Epilogue
OUT OF BREATH, Lisa flew down the hallway, her heels clacking on the hospital floor. She still hated hospitals—nothing would ever change that—but now she had some happy memories to replace the others. As she turned the corner, smashing the box in her hand on the wall, she heard a cry.
A baby’s cry.
Her own eyes filled with tears when she walked into the private room and saw Danielle in bed, resting comfortably while nursing her baby. Cole sat in a chair at her bedside, joy and love shining in his eyes, eyes that would go completely blind in the next couple of years. Lisa was grateful he had the chance to witness the beauty of his wife and baby girl before that happened.
She and Sawyer owed their friends so much. After all, it wasn’t as if she could explain away three dead bodies in her office. Logan and Cole had both called in favors from the FBI, and Kate had represented her in a plea deal. With full monetary restitution given by Sawyer to all her victims and the black list in the government’s hands, Lisa had avoided prison time.
She no longer had to look over her shoulder.
“She’s gorgeous,” Lisa said, smiling down at Danielle.
“She is,” Danielle agreed. With the baby asleep, she tucked her breast into her nightgown. “Would you like to hold her?”
“I’d love to.” She set the gift down on the foot of the bed and accepted the tiny bundle from her friend.
“Rosa Grace, meet your Aunt Lisa.”
Although she now went by the name Annaliese Hayes, everyone other than Sawyer and the guys in Vegas called her Lisa.
The baby’s eyes were closed, her face pinched and her pink lips pursed as if sucking even in her sleep. Wisps of dark hair covered her head. “Beautiful name.”
“We named her after Roman and Gracie,” Danielle said weepily. “If they hadn’t been there, I don’t know what . . . ”