Ty must have known it too. When he looked up at her his lips were a hard thin line. “The Bureau can protect you.”
“You mean I spend the rest of my life in hiding.”
“There’s no other option,” he said, swinging his leg over his bike. He motioned for her to get on.
Morgan stood her ground. “Of course there is. We can go get that ledger, and end this once and for all. We still have the advantage. If Barinov doesn’t know that you’re FBI then neither does my brother. There’s still a good chance they haven’t gotten rid of the evidence.”
He started up the bike. The engine roar echoed off the buildings around them. “We don’t have time to argue.”
“You’re right. We don’t. Back inside, you asked me to trust you. And I do. With my life. But now, I’m asking you to trust me. Don’t give up yet.”
The familiar wail of sirens sounded from down the street. Ty’s brows pulled together. “You’re not getting on this bike unless I agree, are you?”
Morgan shook her head. “Sorry.”
“All right then. Get on,” he said. “Though I’m not sure where the hell we’re going to go if I’m not taking you back to the office.”
“That’s okay,” Morgan said, sliding behind him. He hit the throttle the moment her arms wrapped around his middle. This time Morgan didn’t even flinch. “I know a place.”
Chapter Twelve
Ty zigzagged through the city, banking around tight corners and in and out of alleyways and one-way streets for twenty minutes before he finally got around to following Morgan’s directions. He tried telling himself it was because he wanted to make sure that they weren’t being followed, but that wasn’t entirely true. He’d been assured their trail was clear fifteen minutes ago. Now…now, he was just riding around the city, trying to figure out what to do next.
It wasn’t a position he was used to. Usually, everything was much clearer. There was right, and there was wrong, and the best thing to do was usually pretty damned obvious.
Of course, that was before he’d met Morgan Kincaid.
Now his mind was swimming in circles.
He knew what he should do. He should take her back to the field office, take her statement and then put her into protective custody until he could lock Barinov away forever. Until then the FBI would keep her safe. Hell, he’d put her under his own protection and watch her day and night if he had to.
And knowing Morgan, he’d have to.
Even FBI protection wasn’t foolproof. Ty knew there were leaks in the Bureau. That’s why Ty had fought to keep this undercover investigation so secret. How many more attacks could he fend off before one of Barinov’s men got lucky?
He didn’t even give Morgan twelve hours in a safe house before she’d find a way to get herself back into trouble.
And then they’d be right back where they started.
Or…
He could give her plan a shot. It wasn’t a terrible one, after all. She had access no one in the Bureau had. She seemed confident that she could get the evidence that he needed. If it wasn’t for the part where the West Coast’s most dangerous criminal boss had a hit out on the woman he’d fallen hard for, the plan would have been perfect.
Ty cursed himself for even considering it.
Trust me, she’d said.
And the weird thing was he did. Not her instincts of course…those she’d proven time and again to be terrible. She’d trusted in her brother. She’d thought it was a good idea to confront Barinov face to face. She’d even taken Ty’s cover at face value.
But somehow he trusted her.
Even with all of her mistakes—and God knew there had been a lot of them—none of them had come from a selfish place. The woman was the Queen of Good Intentions. Deep down, Ty knew she’d offered her help because she really wanted to help. She wanted what was best for both him and her brother…no matter the personal cost.
But Ty knew all too well how steep that cost could be. And the truth was he was the one who didn’t want to pay it.
The thought of losing Morgan stabbed at the dead center of his chest. It made his throat tighten. It made the air freeze in his lungs.
He didn’t know anyone with an inner light as brilliant as hers, no one whose sense of joy even came close. If anything happened to her…
No. Nothing was going to happen to Morgan. Nothing. He wouldn’t allow it.
Trust me.
Ty cursed under his breath as he turned another corner and pointed the bike toward Hunter’s Point.
Five minutes later, he pulled up to the address Morgan had given him.
He raised an eyebrow as he looked over the dilapidated warehouse. It was virtually identical to every other run down building along the street—peeling paint, rusted metal doors, twelve-foot high windows, every fourth one broken.
“You’re sure this is the right place?” Ty asked.