Every second Wynter sits on that bomb is a second and a half too long.
In the time it’s taken me to get close enough to the car and get my phone under the seat with extreme precision I normally only use when building something, Storm has called everyone in his contacts and assembled a bomb squad any military would be jealous of. But the fact that I have to put my woman’s life into a stranger’s hands is unacceptable to me. If I thought I could learn how to diffuse a bomb in the next ten minutes, I would be doing it right this moment, but that’s not practical, and it would likely end even worse for Wynter than whatever these guys do.
But at least if they blow her up, I’ll be standing right next to her. That’s something, right? “It’s handmade,” one of them confirms.
“But whoever made it seems to know what they’re doing, which means it’s stable,” another tells us.
“As stable as a fucking explosive can be, I guess,” Storm mutters. Out of the three of us, he’s the one taking it the hardest. He’s going over and over in his head all the moments that led us to this one, but he’s not going to find an error. The only mistake we made was leaving the house, and if we had brought only one car, we would all be sitting where Wynter is right now.
“We’re going to diffuse it now. One of us will climb in the other side and hold the device steady while another will carefully diffuse it. Once the pressure point is disabled we’re going to get Wynter out and then remove the device so it can be detonated in a safe location.”
It all sounds fine, and if it wasn’t my entire life sitting on top of the bomb, I would think it’s a great plan, but because it’s Wynter sitting there looking so calm I’m wondering if I might have to take her to the hospital on the way home, I can’t think straight to know if this is the best move.
I look to Storm who is staring at me and I realize we’re both hoping the other will have the answer, but it’s him who sighs and nods. “Do it.”
Wynter flinches at the command and I don’t even realize I’m moving until I’m standing beside the car with a gentle hand on her shoulder. I need her to know she’s not alone. I tried my best to convince Storm to leave, to tell him that the rest of the family needs him if things go pear-shaped, but he didn’t even entertain the idea of leaving us.
“Ev,” she whispers, the nickname only she uses rolling off her tongue quietly as she turns her head to look at me. The fear in her eyes is almost my undoing, but there’s a quiet strength behind them. Everyone underestimates the women in this family, but if we make it out of this, the Russo family better believe it will be Wynter coming after them.
“Yeah, dove?”
“I’m sorry I was so harsh when you came back. I don’t know why you left, but I know you had to have had a reason. I’m sorry I didn’t see that until now.” Her eyes press closed as a few stray tears draw dark paths down her cheeks.
“You better not be trying to say goodbye to me right now, Wynter, because you’re not going anywhere other than home,” I growl.
“Everett, I need you to listen to me,” she snaps. “You know me. You know I need to prepare for every eventuality, and I can’t die without you knowing that I forgive you. I forgive you for leaving, and for breaking my heart, and for storming back into my life like you own it. I’m sorry that something kept us apart for eight years and you had to watch me live my life from afar. I’m sorry I begged Storm not to tell you what Craig did to me. I’m sorry I ever doubted how you felt about me.”
More tears trail down her cheeks and I ache to reach out and brush them away, but even that could be enough to set off the device, and I’m not willing to risk it.
“Dove,” I say quietly, my heart breaking more and more with each tear that rolls down her cheeks.
She’s right, I do know her, and in her mind there’s every possibility she won’t survive this. It’s not entirely unreasonable seeing as she’s perched on top of a bomb, but I can’t let her go on.
“You’re not going to die. You and I are going to live to be one hundred and then we’re going to die in each other’s arms.”
Because that’s the only way that’s acceptable. I can’t leave her unprotected, and I can’t live without her. That’s why I’m standing here right now, that’s why even when she begged me to go I couldn’t.
“You don’t know that.” She sighs, tearing her eyes from mine only for long enough to look at the men currently poking around under her seat. “I love you, Everett. I loved you when we were just kids and had no concept of what those three words meant. I loved you when you kissed me on my eighteenth birthday and then disappeared into the night. And I loved you even when my heart could barely beat it was so broken.”
Her words make my heart stop as I process them. I’ve only ever heard those words from her lips once, and it was when I took her virginity, one final selfish act before I left without a trace. All these years I thought that would be the only time she would say it, that even when I inevitably came back and tried to explain why our time apart was necessary, that she would always resent me for leaving her. “I love you too, dove,” I whisper, barely able to breathe through the emotions crashing through my body like a wrecking ball.
Wynter gives me a broken smile as the two men start talking around us. They need to be perfectly still and be able to communicate flawlessly for this to work, and us finally sorting our shit out isn’t going to help that. I look up at Storm who is pacing backward and forward a few feet away. There have been few times in my life that I’ve seen the man look so worried, but most of them have been concern for his family. There’s a reason he’s here and not with the rest of them in the bunker at the estate. He’s the true leader of this family, and there’s nothing he won’t do for them, including be blown up by the bomb they’re sitting above.
“You guys should go,” Wynter whispers so quietly I barely hear her.
“No,” I growl under my breath. Soon enough she’s going to understand that I’m not going anywhere. She’s stuck with me and there’s nothing she could ever do to change that.
“We’re just getting ready to diffuse now,” one of the guys tells us and Wynter squeezes her eyes shut as quiet sobs claw their way out of her throat. I tear my eyes away from her only long enough to see Storm has stopped pacing and is staring at us with barely contained horror.
There are long moments of silence where the only sound is the men removing cords, or at least that’s what I assume they’re doing. I’ve dabbled with bombs before, but only in a controlled environment when creating the weapons of tomorrow, not under a high-pressure situation where we could all very well die in the next thirty seconds.
Wynter and I stare at one another and I swear neither of us breathes, too scared to make a move just in case it’s what sets this thing off. I hold my breath for so long I’m not sure my lungs will hold air again, and then the most wonderful words I’ve ever heard come out of the technician’s mouth.
“All clear, get her out of here.”
