Minutes after Director Langley walked out, my phone buzzed. I looked down at the screen. Then up Michael's eyes met mine.
"Seems we're still on the same mission, Creed."
He smirked. "Seems like it."
I pushed away from the wall. "I need to clean up first looking at my blood stained hands."
The cold water in Michael's bathroom did little to cool the fire running through my veins. I stared at my reflection, fingers gripping the porcelain sink like it could somehow keep me grounded. My lips were still tingling from the kiss we'd shared. Reckless. Explosive. Familiar.
I hadn't planned for that.
When I stepped out, Michael was behind his desk, pretending to clean his gun, but his eyes didn't move from me.
"You're not going to tell me anything, are you?" he asked.
I gave a half-smile as I walked closer. "Some ghosts don't like to be named. You of all people should know that."
He leaned back, eyes darkening. "I thought you were dead, Firefox. For five years."
I swallowed the lump rising in my throat and slipped on my coat. "We still have a mission to complete. Or did you forget?"
His jaw clenched. But he nodded.
Minutes later, we were in his bulletproof SUV, riding in silence. The air was thick, tension laced with everything unsaid. My agency's alert had confirmed my next target: Daniel Joe. Brooklyn South Pier. If we moved fast, we could still catch him.
My eyes drifted to Michael's hand resting on the armrest. The ring on his pinky caught my attention, the same one he'd taken from me during a sparring match at the Academy, i called it my lucky charm.
"Why do you still have that?" I asked, nodding to it.
He didn't even glance down. "I'll tell you when you start answering my questions."
Fair enough.
The rest of the ride was quiet. But not calm. I was aware of every breath he took, every shift of his body. The warmth radiating from him pulled at something primal in me.
The warehouse came into view, abandoned, dead quiet.
We searched the perimeter. Nothing.
"He knew," Michael muttered. "Someone tipped him off."
"Yeah. He vanished too clean."
At this moment we realised that there was a mole either at MI6 or my agency.
_________________
We returned to his warehouse where I'd left my rented car. As I walked to it, he turned to face me.
"Come with me. Let's talk. Please."
I hesitated. "I can't. Not now."
"At least give me your number."
I stepped close, brushing his jaw with my fingertips, watching how he stiffened.
"If I gave you my number, where's the fun in the chase?"
Then I kissed him. Soft. Dangerous. The kind of kiss that tilts gravity.
When I pulled back, I hugged him. Just once. Long enough to memorize the beat of his heart.
As he walked to his car, I had already slipped a tracker beneath the chassis of his SUV.
Because no matter how much I wanted him needed him, I still couldn't trust him.
Not yet.
And he still didn't know the whole story.
But soon.