I stretch my leg muscles and start to head back when my cell phone beeps in my pocket signaling a text message. I pull it out to check. When I see the message from my security system app, my heart drops.

Motion detected by the security camera.

Someone is inside my house. It can’t be Erik or his team because they’re finished, and he would never go into my place without permission. I quickly touch the app to bring up the camera’s view of my living room.

Oh no.

It’s Sam.

He’s walking around my living room, peeking into the boxes of evidence and looking at photos that I secretly took of him.

What the hell is he doing there?

Questions fly through my mind. How did he get in? And how did he find my address? At this point, it doesn’t matter. He’s inside now and surrounded by evidence of my betrayal.

I can’t bear to watch him any longer.

Instead I turn around and start running back as fast as I can. Two miles will take me at least fifteen to twenty minutes based on how many times I have to dodge cars and wait for lights to change at crosswalks.

Twenty minutes is more than enough time for him to go through the boxes of photos and tapes. For Sam to find out about me this way is my worse nightmare.

My heart is racing so fast that I can barely breathe. Sam will never forgive me now, and I will never get a chance to make things right. I can’t imagine what terrible things must be going through his head. To find out I’m an undercover ATF agent will be devastating to him. To know that I lied and even slept with him while gathering evidence to use against the Steel Infidels will be too much.

He is going to hate me, and he should.

I hate myself for letting things go this far.

I could have put an end to Operation Thunderclap sooner, but I didn’t because I was selfish. I wanted more time with Sam. So I let the operation continue when I should have been back here fighting like hell to fix things for him. Now we’ve all run out of time.

I’ve screwed up everything.

The two-mile run back to my rental house is a killer. By the time I reach the entrance to my street, I’m panting and gasping for breath. I lean against the side of a stop sign and check my phone one last time to make sure he’s still in the house.

The app brings up a blank error screen. He’s obviously spotted the camera and unplugged it. There’s no point in stalling outside. I need to get this over with.

I hurry up the front porch steps, reach for the doorknob, and step inside.