Текст книги "Unbroken"

Автор книги: Lisa Renee Jones

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“You’re right,” he assures me. “I won’t. I won’t let someone else take you from me.” He moves my hands up the wall. “Don’t move them.”

He’s gone then, and I’m cold where he’s no longer touching me, hot where I want him to touch me. I can feel him, though. Everywhere, in every part of me, and my skin tingles from the heat of his stare, my nerves prickle with the sound of him undressing. And I realize, too, that I know this man. I understand his need to take me, to control me now, because he feels he has none. He’s afraid he can’t protect me. He’s tormented by the idea that the nightmare I brought to him will never truly be over, no matter how much he’s willed it to be gone. And I get it. Oh how I get it. This is my world he’s living in now. The one where control is hard to come by and we take what we can, where we can. Like he’s doing now.

The air shifts and I know he’s closing in on me even before he kneels on the floor at my right hip, one of his hands flattening on the small of my back. The connection scorches me, sending heat waves up over my skin. He doesn’t move; seconds tick by and he lets me wallow in the anticipation building inside me. Already my sex is tight, wet, and I am desperate to feel him inside me. No matter how much I need or want control, I also need the way he owns me in moments like these. The way he demands I give him everything and leaves room for nothing but pleasure. Desire. Him.

His fingers curl around the silk string of my panties, his hot breath fanning my hip, his teeth scraping the delicate skin beneath the fabric. “My woman,” he murmurs, and as much as that one word defies my need to rule my life once and for all, it’s erotic and right in a way I can’t begin to examine right here and now. “My wife soon. Not soon enough.”

Wife. The word does funny things to my stomach. “Yes,” I whisper.

He nips my skin again, and I yelp. His tongue does a lavish swirl over the sting I swear I feel in my sex, in my nipples. I fight the urge to reach for him and my fingers curl on the wall. His hand flattens on my belly and I tremble with the promise of where he will go now. Where he will take me next. Slowly, his fingers walk downward, slipping under the tiny slit of black lace there. I hold my breath, waiting for the onslaught of sensations I know will follow. His fingers tease my clit, lightly caressing, and my legs wobble uncontrollably, leaving me no option but to plant my palms near my head to hold myself up.

His mouth finds my hip again, his tongue flickering erotically, his fingers straying lower, playing in the slick heat between my thighs. And then he’s in a sweet spot, so very sweet, and I squeeze my thighs together, silently pleading for him to stay there, but he doesn’t let my satisfaction win that fast. Suddenly, he moves his hand, shackling my hips and turning me to face him, leaning me against the wall.

“Hands back over your head,” he orders, his hands falling from my body, promising he won’t touch me again until I comply.

I do as he wishes, crossing my wrists above my head, staring down at him, and he is naked and beautiful, the kind of man who can make a woman beg. This woman. Because I hurt in all the places he’s still not touching me. “Please, Liam,” I whisper.

Satisfaction flickers in his gaze, as if my plea is what he’d been waiting for. He tangles his fingers into my panties, holding my stare as he oh so slowly drags them downward. They fall to my ankles and he presses his mouth to my belly, one palm on my upper thigh, his thumb flicking ever so gently on my clit. I try to suck in air but fail as over and over that thumb teases me, the delicate friction driving me insane, enough to make me burn, but not enough to let me breathe.

“Liam,” I gasp, and again, it seems to be another plea he seeks as it has barely left my lips when his fingers slip into the wet, swollen flesh of my core and enter me. And his mouth, his gifted, amazing mouth, replaces his thumb and closes down on my now throbbing nub. The wait is over as he suckles and licks, and when my knees tremble, his hand is on my hip, holding me steady, the way he has from the moment we first met.

Somehow I keep my arms over my head, when what I want is to reach down and touch Liam. Oh how I burn to touch him. A burn that radiates through my sex and suddenly I am on the edge of the sweet, blissful place that is release. I suck in a breath that lodges in my chest, my body tensing, and then I’m there, so very there, tumbling into a place that can only be called perfection. I lose everything. Worry. Time. Pain. And when I come back to the world, Liam is holding my hips, keeping me from falling.

He kisses my belly again but this time he lingers there, his cheek settling where his lips were seconds before, as if he’s holding on to me, making his claim that he won’t lose me real. There is vulnerability in the act, the kind that he shows no one else.

No one but me. He shows me. He trusts me the way I do him. And I have never felt so loved and complete as I do in this moment.

He’s different now, the edge that was there moments before shifting to something equally dark, but free of sharp corners. My heart squeezes with the impact of what he feels, and the way he dissolves the loneliness of my past. I reach for him, my fingers slipping into the thick, dark strands of his hair. He lifts his head to fix me in a deep, dark stare, cupping both my hands in his to bring them to his lips. I sink to my knees in front of him, my hand flattening over his heart.

“I love you,” I whisper.

He cups my face. “I love you, too, but baby, I won’t apologize for protecting you.”

There are a million things I could say in that moment but he is already kissing me, deeply, passionately, the moment of tenderness transforming into something hungrier, hotter. Suddenly, we are clinging to each other, trying to get closer, hands all over each other as we tumble to the ground, lying side by side. Still kissing, still trying to get more of each other, he shifts our bodies, his thick erection pressing between my legs into the slick heat he’s created.

His mouth leaves mine but our foreheads are pressed together, and we do what we’ve said we will do. We breathe together, and it’s intense and wonderful and I swear I can feel him everywhere, in every part of me.

He pushes inside me, driving deep, and his hand slides up my back, molding my breasts to his chest. “This is where you belong. With me. That’s what matters.”

“Yes,” I whisper. “With you.”

He brushes his lips over mine, nipping my bottom lip, and the instant his tongue finds mine we are kissing again, crazy hot kissing, wild all over again. He cups my backside, anchoring me and pulling me against him, moving inside me. The carpet grinds on my leg and hip but I do not care. I just want this, I want him, but then Liam shifts me so that I am almost on top of him, my skin barely touching the floor. And I know why. He will always protect me. The way I need to protect him. The idea has me diving my fingers into his hair and arching into him. He responds, caressing my back with his palm, holding me, taking me, marrying me in a way that is beyond a piece of paper. Until we are both burying our faces in each other’s necks, panting with where we are going, where we want to be. And the way he’s grinding against my clit, thrusting inside me, I’m there again, shattering into oblivion.

I come back to the world at his low, guttural moan followed by a final thrust, and he, too, finds release. His body shakes, his fingers flexing into my flesh, and I lean into him, holding him the way he always holds me. When finally he calms, we cling to one another, letting time pass, neither of us eager to part.

“We’ll stay tonight,” he finally says, leaning back to look at me. “On one condition.”

“What condition?”

“We reassess tomorrow, after I meet Dante and we evaluate Meg and Jared as potential threats. If there’s a valid reason to worry, we leave.”

“And I go to the party with you tonight,” I counter.

“Amy—”

I silence him with a press of my lips to his, lingering there a moment. “I’m safer with you. I want to be with you.”

“Let’s talk to Tellar and Josh and decide from there.”

“I can live with that,” I agree, deciding it’s enough, considering my man is as stubborn as they come and I’ve already won a major battle by staying in the city tonight.

He brushes the hair from my eyes and kisses me on my forehead. “Let’s get dressed and I’ll finally feed you.”

My stomach seems to growl on cue and we both laugh. “I think that’s a good idea.”

He pulls out of me and helps me sit, before he stands up and walks toward the connected bathroom in all his naked glory, proving once again that my husband-to-be has a really sexy butt. He’s gone a few seconds, returning to toss me a towel that I snatch up while he reaches for his pants.

An alarming thought hits me. “Please tell me you shut the bedroom door and Tellar won’t walk in.”

“I shut it,” he assures me.

I clean myself up and at my first attempt to stand, Liam quickly offers me his hand, and I laugh as I realize that somehow my panties are still around one of my ankles.

Liam glances down and laughs as well, but our amusement quickly fades. Our eyes lock and he strokes a strand of hair behind my ear. “Christmas at home, huh?”

There is a hopeful sadness in him that I know has to be about the family he’s lost, the holidays he’s hidden from, and I know we are both going to visit the ghosts of our past. But I also know that together we’ll defeat them. “Yes,” I say, covering his hand with mine. “Christmas at home. Our home.”

He kisses my temple, lingering there a moment before he moves to a row of shirts, removing a freshly starched selection. “Why are you changing?” I ask. “You have to dress for the party soon.”

“Feeling sharp is being sharp,” he states, and I have my answer. Control. He’s given some to me, but he doesn’t plan to give it to anyone else.

I decide he’s right, and reach for a pair of black dress pants and a light blue long-sleeved silk blouse. I’ve just pulled on a pair of high-heeled ankle boots when my stomach growls again. Liam slides his gray tie through his collar and knots it. “Sounds like I really need to feed you.”

“I’ve been saying that for hours,” I remind him.

The doorbell rings, and his brow furrows.

“Derek?” I suggest. “But why would he be at the door in front of the security gate?”

“He wouldn’t, and I told him to call first.” He shrugs into his jacket, already striding out of the closet.

I hurry behind him, following him down the stairs and past the living area. Tellar is just opening the door as Liam and I reach the Christmas tree, and my heart stops beating.

Tellar draws his gun and I hear, “What the fuck are you doing here, Jared?”

PART NINE

Everything Is Not What It Seems

LIAM STEPS IN FRONT OF ME, shielding me.

“I repeat,” Tellar snarls. “What the f—”

“Look at the badge in my hand, asshole,” Jared says. “I’m CIA. Put the damn gun down.”

I gasp. CIA? No. Despite what Meg has told me, it seems impossible. He was Chad’s college buddy. They’ve known each other for years.

“I’m not putting it down until I confirm it’s true,” Tellar replies. “And keep the badge. A hacker can fake just about anything.”

“My badge is as real as the piece of shit who gave you that scar on your jaw four years ago,” Jared assures him.

“Aren’t you smart?” Tellar says dryly. “Do you want a cookie as a reward for knowing that information? Because if you know about that mission, you know I was the only one who walked out alive.”

“And the other six didn’t,” Jared concurs. “I know. You killed them.”

“Like I’ll kill you, if I have to.”

“You won’t. You’re one of the good guys, like me, whether you like it or not.”

“I am not remotely like you. I don’t gut my friends for an agenda.”

“You just gut your enemies.”

“No. I put a bullet between their eyes,” Tellar warns him.

“Call Coco,” Liam tells me, handing me his phone. “Auto-dial number ten.”

“Coco Reynolds?” Jared asks. “You mean my boss’s ex-wife?”

“Another fact you could have hacked,” Tellar says in a bored tone.

“And do you know what they say about hackers?” Liam asks, stepping to Tellar’s side, forming a full barrier between me and Jared. “They hack because they aren’t good enough to be invited to the party directly.”

My heart races, my mind chasing the possibility that Jared is lying as I punch in the number. He has to be lying, I think, counting the rings. One. Two. Coco answers and I blurt out, “Jared is standing at our door with Tellar holding a gun on him.”

“Holly Mother of Jesus,” she hisses. “Hold on.” The line clicks and I wait, my mind racing with what this means. Jared was Chad’s best friend. Chad trusted him. Jared helped me escape from Meg and Sheridan. But if he’s CIA, it changes every interaction any of us ever had with him.

“Why are you here, Jared?” Liam demands.

“I heard you were asking questions about me,” he replies. “I figured it was time I tore off the blinders.”

Coco comes back on the line. “It’s true. He’s CIA. He was deep undercover.”

Shock rolls through me and I end the call. “It’s true. He’s CIA,” I say. I can barely wrap my head around the implications.

“You can put the gun down now, Tellar,” Jared orders.

“I’d rather shoot you, you bastard,” Tellar growls.

“I’d like to watch,” Liam agrees.

“You’d never have time to bury my body,” Jared promises. “Too many people know I’m here.”

Liam doesn’t reply and seconds tick by, as if all three men are in a silent standoff. “Invite me in,” Jared says tightly, “or I can take you in for questioning.”

Another few seconds tick by, and I watch Tellar and Liam exchange a look. Apparently reaching an agreement, they part in unison and I see Jared fully, a man I know but never really knew. Tall, with a light brown ponytail tied at his nape, he’s wearing his typical faded jeans and T-shirt, this one sporting a Batman emblem. And I kind of think it comes with a message. Like the superhero, he’ll do whatever he must to get the job done, even if it includes stabbing friends in the back.

He stops beside the Christmas tree, his brown eyes fixed on me. Tellar shuts the door behind him and Jared closes the space between us, leaving a mere foot between us as he demands, “Is he really dead?”

Adrenaline pumps through me, fear nowhere in sight, my anger front and center. “You bastard,” I hiss, my voice quaking and my body with it, and without a conscious decision to do so, I launch myself forward, wanting to hit him. I’m a hair away from him, my fingers brushing his shirt, when Liam shackles my waist from behind and pulls me back. I fight him but lose, shouting at Jared, “You were supposed to be Chad’s friend! You’re supposed to care! You were supposed to be someone we trusted!” Liam whirls me around and I try to reach for Jared again, only to smack into the wall of Liam’s chest. “Let me by!”

He grips my shoulders, holding me steady. “Amy, stop. You have to stop.”

I inhale on a shaky breath. “He’s a bastard,” I repeat. “I want him out of this house.”

“As do I,” he assures me. “Go to the other room. I’ll handle him.”

“It’s Amy I want to question,” Jared says from behind him. “We can do this here or somewhere else. That’s her choice.”

“Go to the other room,” Liam repeats. “He can’t force you into talking, and my attorney will shove his request down his throat.”

I shake my head, wanting this over with now and for good. “No. He’s the one hiding things, not me.”

He studies me, a mix of resistance and regret in his expression. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” I confirm, crossing my arms to hide the way my stupid hands shake every time I get upset. Any calm I’d hoped to claim was gone the instant I saw Jared again.

Liam gives a deep sigh and then moves to stand beside me, where he’s been since the day I met him.

Any calm I’d hoped to claim is gone the instant I see Jared again. “Were you ever Chad’s friend?” I ask.

“Yes,” he replies.

“Yes?” I hiss. “That’s it?”

There’s a slight twitch to his lips, a hardening of his jaw. “You want to know about me and Chad? I’ll tell you. He set me up with a job that paid for my sister’s cancer treatments. It didn’t save my sister, but I fully intended to save his. And believe me, Amy.” His voice tightens. “When I was with you, I was protecting you.”

“Then why betray him?” Liam asks.

“That job he gave me to save my sister got me busted. I was either going to jail or joining the CIA.”

“You mean going to jail or betraying Chad,” I bite out, my arms dropping to my sides, my fingers digging into my palms and around the phone I am still somehow holding.

He gives an incidental shake of his head. “No. The CIA wasn’t after Chad when they recruited me. It was someone inside the Treasure Hunter group he worked for. And it was a matter of national security. I knew Chad would never willingly dip his hands in something as dirty as this was.”

I reject everything this man claims. “I don’t believe you.”

“You’re shocked, and that’s understandable,” he replies coolly. “But know this. When Chad needed help making you disappear, I did it blindly, out of friendship. I didn’t figure out that Sheridan, a man already on the CIA watch list, was involved until much later.” His jaw sets and he levels me with a stare, refocusing on his original question. “I need to know if Chad’s really dead.”

“You and your people are the ones who told me he was dead,” I remind him.

“Did he tell you why you had to hide?” he blasts back, never missing a beat.

“He didn’t tell me anything, to protect me. If he didn’t tell you, I’m betting that deep down, he didn’t trust you.”

His eyes narrow, the seconds passing like hours. “Meg visited you today.”

I blanch but recover quickly. “You were there,” I say, kicking myself for dismissing the prickling sensation on my neck when I entered the store.

“Surveillance requires a search warrant,” Liam says. “I’m betting you didn’t have one.”

Jared flicks Liam a look. “I just happened to be Christmas shopping, like the rest of the world.”

“You hacked the store cameras,” Tellar says, stepping forward.

Jared ignores him, his attention fixed on me. “What did she want?”

“The same thing you want,” I say. “To be convinced Chad is dead. It seems like everyone wants him to rise from the grave and suddenly produce some secret you think he had.”

“We know he had a secret,” Jared assures me. “The question is, do we know everything about that secret? That’s where Meg comes in. She lived with him, and we think she knows the answer to that question. We want her, and we need you to help us get her.”

“We couldn’t help you even if we wanted to,” Liam says, clearly not wanting me to share everything about Meg with Jared. “Amy reacted to her showing up about as well as she did to you ringing our doorbell. She got angry, and Meg took off.”

“And don’t tell us you didn’t see her abrupt departure on the camera feed,” Tellar adds.

But Jared ignores Liam and Tellar, his entire focus on me. “Meg is a valuable resource who helps ensure that Sheridan and clan rot in the highest containment-level facility.”

“Are you saying there’s a risk they might be moved?” Liam asks.

“The lawyers are asking,” Jared says, flicking him a look. “We need to be armed and ready to shut them down if they get any traction.”

“Will they get traction?” Tellar asks. “Have they?”

“Not so far,” Jared admits. “But I have no intention of making years of chasing these people mean nothing. I want to be prepared for anything.” He tunes in on me again. “We need her. I need your help to find her again.” He reaches into his pocket and removes a card, offering it to me.

Liam reaches for it. “If she shows up, we’ll call the agency.”

“Right.” He turns away and saunters toward the door, then pauses, facing the tree. “Nice decorations.” He cuts me a hard look. “Must be hard to celebrate with Chad gone.”

I feel the accusation of a lie like a physical slap. “Chad’s been gone to me for six years,” I say, hugging myself again to hide my trembling hands.

“Right,” he repeats. “Well then, happy holidays. And if you need anything, I’ll be nearby.”

He exits the house and Tellar shuts the door. We all stand there in silence, as if we’re stuck in some vortex and can’t get a grip on what just happened. All I can think is that he knows Chad is alive, which means Chad can’t be anywhere near me, ever, and I feel as if a part of my soul is bleeding.

I inhale deeply, finding the zone I’ve used to survive too many times to count, as I march down the hallway toward the kitchen. There I head for the giant stainless steel refrigerator and pull out a pasta salad. Liam and Tellar join me as I set it on the counter, one on either side of the island.

“How do we have food, when we just arrived?” I ask.

“I had a service clean the house and stock the fridge,” Liam replies.

“I’m glad you did,” I say, reaching for a drawer to grab a fork.

Liam blocks it from opening with a hip, his hand settling on my shoulder. “Jared doesn’t know Chad’s alive,” he promises. “He just wants to get into your head.”

“And it worked,” Tellar adds. “Don’t let him win.”

“I know he’s going to keep watching and waiting. He’ll stalk us like he’s done these past six years.” I press fingers to my temple, hating the reality I have to face. “Chad is dead to me now. He can’t even call us. Jared will trace the call.”

“That’s what disposable phones are for,” Liam reminds me. “He’s not dead to you, but he does need to lie low. And he will, to protect you.” He squeezes my shoulder. “And we have Josh in place. He’ll block and reroute Jared’s attempts to track us.”

“Are you sure Josh is better than Jared?”

“One hundred percent,” he confirms. “He and Dante will be a steel fence between us and trouble. Unfortunately, now that I know Jared’s watching us I can’t go to that party tonight and risk being seen with Dante. We may need to contact him through Josh for a while to keep attention off our arrangement. And we do need to hire Dante immediately. Especially since I don’t plan to hand Meg over to Jared.”

“Why not?” I ask. “Maybe that would get him to leave us alone.”

“He thinks she knows something,” Liam states. “And like he said, she lived with Chad. None of us, not even Chad, can be sure exactly how much she knows.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” Tellar interjects. “She’s a bigger problem than Jared.”

“Then she’s a ticking time bomb,” I observe. “That doesn’t make me feel better.”

“We’re going to have Dante help her disappear.” Liam glances at his watch. “I need to call Josh before he’s tied up with the party. And I need to call Chad and make sure he dumps the phone number he’s using now for a new one.”

A bad thought comes to my mind. “Can’t Jared trace the calls we make to Josh and Chad?”

Liam reaches in his pocket and sets an identical phone down next to the one he’d given me earlier. “I’m not using my cell phone to make any call that isn’t safe.”

“How do you tell them apart?” I ask.

He shows me a tiny silver dot on the answer button. It seems we’re prepared for anything, and yet we weren’t prepared for Meg or Jared.

AN HOUR LATER, Liam, Tellar, and I are sitting at the kitchen table eating pizza. We’ve left a message for Chad, and Josh has promised to do whatever it takes to get Dante on board. From there we get lost in replaying every moment we’ve ever spent with Jared, looking for times he’s lied, proof he might have outside interests beyond the CIA.

“All I know,” Tellar concludes, finishing off a bite, “is he’s after the cylinder. They’re all after that damn cylinder, and getting Dante in place is going to be a relief.”

Liam agrees, and I reach for the phone next to him to try Chad again. He covers it and my hand with his. “We’ve called twice, baby. Stop fretting. He probably got the message and changed phones.”

I swallow the knot in my throat. “I know. I just want to hear his voice.” And I wonder if there will ever be a day I won’t fear he is dead.

“And you will. But right now his silence is best for everyone involved.”

The buzzer to our front gate goes off and Tellar pulls out his phone to look at the security camera feed. “Simple black sedan.” He stands and walks to the small intercom on the wall and flips it open. “Can I help you?”

“It’s Josh. I come bearing gifts.”

My brow furrows. “Should he be here? Doesn’t that bring attention to our relationship with him?”

“We have our interactions with Josh covered with business,” Liam says, lifting his chin at Tellar. “Let him in.”

“I’ll go greet him,” Tellar says, punching the button to open the gate and moving toward the door.

Liam glances at his watch. “I didn’t expect to see Josh an hour before his party.”

A thought hits me and I reach for the phone again. “We didn’t tell Chad about Jared. We should leave him another message.”

“So he can charge over here to defend you?” Liam asks. “That could be exactly what Jared was after.”

“He wants Chad, or any of you, to make a mistake.”

At Josh’s voice, I look up to find him standing at the edge of the island with a tall, fit man in his early forties, sporting silvery hair, standing next to him. Both men look devastatingly handsome in tuxes.

Liam stands and I join him. “Coming here with Dante is a mistake,” he says.

“The windows are tinted and the car and plates can’t be traced,” Dante assures him. “I don’t make mistakes.”

Respect slides over Liam’s face. “Good to know,” he says, stepping around the table to greet him. “Pleased to finally meet you.”

“Mr. Liam Stone,” he says, his voice slightly sharp, his features sharper. “Prodigy, protégé, billionaire. I expected arrogance.”

I laugh and everyone looks at me. “Well, he is arrogant,” I say. “But he’s a good person.”

“I’ll confirm that,” Josh comments. “Arrogant prick, but a good man.”

Tellar joins us, standing beside Josh. “No comment. I have to see him every day.”

“Good thinking,” Liam states dryly.

Abruptly Dante’s attention falls on me. “Amy Bensen,” he says, his gray eyes calculating, intelligent. “You, I admire. Six years on the run, on your own, and it didn’t break you.”

“Running wasn’t what was hard. It was not knowing what I was running from. I want that to end.”

“Control,” he says.

“Yes,” I agree, and there is a sense of understanding between us.

“Why don’t we sit,” Josh suggests, holding up an envelope. “I have something to show you that I think you’ll find interesting.”

Liam motions to the table and we all sit down, Liam and Tellar at the ends of the shiny black dining set, while I claim the spot next to Liam. Dante and Josh take the middle seats across from each other, with Dante to Liam’s left.

“I’ve brought Dante up to speed with the immediate situation and hired him,” Josh begins. “He knows we’re protecting a secret. He knows it could impact the world. He knows about Chad. And finally, he knows we want him to be in that inner circle.”

Dante glances at Liam. “Something we can discuss in detail, once we get past your immediate situation.”

“Which is more complex than you think,” Josh adds, opening the envelope and tossing a picture on the table.

My lips part in shock at the sight of Meg and Jared standing together on a street. Liam pulls it toward him, studying Meg in her dark wig and glasses. “That son of a bitch. This was taken today.”

“I pulled it from a satellite feed right after Meg left Saks Fifth Avenue,” Josh confirms. “She’s not running from the law. They already found her, and they were using her to pry information out of Amy.”

My brow furrows. “But isn’t this good, in some ways? We were afraid she knew information she could pass along about Chad’s secret. Clearly she hasn’t shared anything significant if she’s helping them dig for more information.”

“In a situation like this one,” Dante responds, “there was most likely a deal made for her freedom or a lesser sentence. And like a bank robber who has a stash of cash, a person in such a situation would keep that secret close to their chest, fully intending to use it when they’re free.”

“The question becomes,” Josh continues, “do we want to take a chance that she might end up talking?”

“No,” Liam says instantly. “We do not. So what are the options?”

“You call her and set up a meeting,” Dante answers. “I’ll do the rest.”

My throat goes dry. “What does ‘the rest’ mean?”

“Relocate her,” Dante says. “Monitor her.”

“Not kill her?” I blurt out.

He arches a brow. “Do you want me to kill her?”

“No,” I say instantly. “Would you if I said yes?”

“Would I kill someone?” he asks. “Yes, in an appropriate, necessary situation.”

It’s not a direct answer, but I’m not sure I really want one.

Josh pulls a phone from the envelope. “Call Meg. Set up a meeting.”

“She said I’d have to leave a message and she’ll call back,” I explain.

“So leave a message,” Dante replies.

“I’ll be monitoring the line,” Josh says. “So if she calls back, we’ll know.”

Dante eyes Liam. “You and I should talk once this job is done.”

Liam stands. “Let’s talk now.”

Dante gives him a hard stare before he rises, both men disappearing into the living room.

I glance at Tellar and Josh. “You both trust Dante?”

“I do,” Josh says without hesitation. “He can’t stand corruption, and he’s seen how power creates it and changes people. No one knows what that cylinder will do to this world like that man does.”

“I don’t know him like Josh does,” Tellar adds, “but I’ve read his résumé and I’ve checked up on him. He’s the ghost no one wants in their closet.”

“Just know this,” Josh adds. “I know and trust him, and Liam knows me and trusts me.”

“Chad knew and trusted Jared,” I counter.

“Jared’s a bastard,” Tellar comments, “but ultimately he’s CIA, and that can be a bumpy road to travel. Ask Coco. That’s why she left.”

“And Jared’s not going to out-hack me,” Josh promises. “I’ll find him, I’ll keep up with him, and I’ll know everything there is to know about him, down to how many times he goes to the bathroom.”

The kitchen door opens and Liam and Dante return. Liam places the piece of paper Meg had given me next to the phone. “Leave her a message to meet you at the address I wrote on the card, at ten tomorrow morning.”