Colt, if you don’t care about yourself… care about me. Please.”
He turned to look at me, and his shoulders slumped just a little and I felt like I had a chance, that maybe I was getting through to him. I waited, my heart in my throat, and then a second later, he tossed the gun away and it skittered all the way across the floor and hit the stage.
And then his arms were around me and he was pulling me close and I collapsed against him and I was just so relieved to be close to him and my hands were twisting around the back of his shirt and I was crying and he was soothing me, his hands in my hair.
A second later, five FBI agents burst through the door, their guns drawn, swarming the place, Caleb leading the charge.
And the whole time Colt never let me go, the whole time my face was buried against his chest and his hands were in my hair, and I was crying, my face was a mess of tears and he was kissing me, and I was clutching him.
“I love you,” he was whispering into my ear. “God, Olivia, I love you. I’m in love with you.”
“I love you, too,” I said and then they were pulling him off of me, they were pulling him off of me and slapping handcuffs on and I was watching him slip away.
They took him to the back office and gave him an ice pack for his face while they questioned him.
They made me wait outside in the hallway. One of the agents brought out a folding chair, and I forced myself to sit down, even though the adrenaline coursing through my veins left me so jittery I felt like I was going to jump out of my skin.
The urge to run into the bathroom and cut myself welled up for a moment, but I forced myself to breath through it and a second later, the door to the office opened and Caleb came walking out.
I stood up.
“What happened?” I asked. “Is he in trouble?”
“We’re taking his uncle in for attempted murder, and we have the recording of him admitting to everything. Colt didn’t want to give us a look at the books, but it doesn’t matter, they’ll be subpoenaed.”
“But is he arrested?”
“No,” Caleb said. “We don’t have enough on him to bring him in, and honestly, my bosses want the uncle.” His lips twisted a bit, and I could tell he was disappointed, could tell that he’d wanted to nail Colt too.
But I let out a sigh of relief.
“Can I see him?” I asked.
He nodded, but as I went to move past him, he stopped me. “Olivia,” he said. “Take care of yourself.”
I nodded curtly and went to push by him again, but Caleb wasn’t finished.
“Guys like Colt, they don’t change. He may be off the hook now, but he’ll be into something else next month, next year. They do not change, Olivia. Trust me.”
His words rocked me to my core, and that same little voice niggled in my ear, that same voice telling me that I didn’t really know Colt, that if I’d been so wrong about Declan I could be wrong about Colt, too.
But instead of being afraid of my feelings, instead of cutting or running, I let myself feel, let myself imagine what would happen if Caleb were right.
And I realized it wouldn’t matter.
I didn’t care if Colt didn’t turn out to be who I thought he was, because I had to try. I was in love with him, and for the first time ever, I had something in my life that meant so much to me it made the fear, the doubt, the worry worth feeling scared or anxious. Because I had to feel the hard things in order to feel the love, the passion, the intimacy, the want.
So I walked away from Caleb and into the office with my head held high, trusting myself and Colt.
When I got there, was sitting on the couch, his hands on his knees, looking down at the floor. I sat down next to him and he turned to look at me.
His face was bruised, his top lip slightly swollen.
I reached out and ran my finger over his cheekbone. “Oh, Colt,” I breathed, my breath catching in my chest. “Does it hurt?”
“No.” His eyes blazed and I tumbled into them. He was gazing into my eyes, and no one had ever looked at me like