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.”
I glance at the address—the middle of Times Square, and an easy place to disappear in the crush of people. “Do I say anything else? I would say something. That’s my personality, and Jared will listen to the message and know that.”
“Tell her you need to talk to her urgently,” Dante replies, his hands laced together in front of him, his demeanor formidable.
“Do I leave a number for her to call me?” I ask.
“No,” he instructs. “We want her to have no option but to take the meeting.”
I give a quick nod and dial, afraid she’ll answer, but the call goes straight to voice mail. “Hi, Meg,” I blurt out quickly. “It’s Amy. I have something urgent I need to talk to you about. Meet me, please.” I relay the address. “Tomorrow at ten a.m.” I end the call and set the phone down, and dang it, my hands are trembling all over again.
“Good,” Dante approves, stepping forward to take the phone. “Consider the problem handled.”
Josh and Tellar push to their feet and Josh gives me a salute. “See you soon, Amy.”
“Let’s hope I don’t see you again, Amy,” Dante says. He turns for the door, with Josh and Tellar following. Liam follows them and I stand and do the same, rounding the corner just in time to hear him murmur something to Tellar.
I reach the island at the same time Liam starts back in my direction, and we meet in the middle, our hands anchored to the edge. “What did you talk to Dante about?” I ask.
“I wanted to know if I passed his assessment, and when he said yes, I asked a few blunt questions. We scheduled a phone conference to work out the details of our future work relationship and avoid the risk of being seen together.”
“You said you hired him once before?”
“Yes. I did.”
“For what?”
“You won’t like the answer.”
“Tell me anyway.”
“He’s the assassin I threatened Sheridan with.”
For some reason, that doesn’t appall me. I think I knew the answer when I’d asked him about killing Meg. “What does it say about our life, that Tellar being a sniper and that man being capable of murder is comforting to me?”
“All it says is that you’re ready to be in control. And that means surrounding ourselves with people who are better at what they do than our enemies are at what they do.” He wraps me in his arms. “Everything that happened today worked in our favor. As of tomorrow at ten, all of our loose ends are tied.”
My hand flattens over his heart, and I relish its steady, calm beat. “Does this mean we agree to stay here? No safe house?”
“No safe house, baby,” he promises, his lips curving at the edges. “We’re home—and that means we celebrate.”
I yelp as he scoops me up and cradles me to his body. “What are you doing?”
“Taking you to our playhouse,” he says, heading for the bedroom door.
I laugh, my worries falling away. And in this moment, the way this man keeps carrying me off to bed, I’m beginning to feel a bit like a princess with her own personal barbarian prince.
PART TEN
Closure
I FALL ASLEEP CURLED UP NEXT to Liam, warm and safe, a smile on my lips, slipping into a sweet memory and a dream.
I awake in the darkness of my room and glance at the clock that reads midnight. I smile, throwing off the blankets and grabbing my robe. It’s Christmas, the first one in years the entire family has been home.
Quietly, so as to not wake up Mom and Dad down the hall, I open my door and tiptoe to the stairs and all the way down. Once I’m on the bottom level, I rush into the living area to the massive tree flickering with multicolored lights and find Chad sitting on the floor beside it, still fully dressed in jeans and a T-shirt. We both grin at each other like little kids, though I’m nearly eighteen and he’s twenty-four, and I love it.
I hurry to him, then sit on the floor Indian-style and he nudges me. “I thought you were turning into an old lady, going to bed so early.”
“You weren’t here when I went to sleep.”
“I went to see Dawn,” he says. “She still hates me.”
“You missed your girlfriend’s birthday. What do you expect?”
“I was in Egypt.”
“You could have called her,” I argue.
“Yeah. I suppose I could have. I guess I’m just not the sentimental type.”
“No. You really aren’t,” I agree and laugh. “You used to unwrap your presents before Christmas morning and rewrap them so Mom wouldn’t know.”
His eyes light. “Good idea.” He reaches under the tree and grabs a package.
“You can’t,” I warn. “Mom will be furious.”
“She doesn’t have to know.” He shows me the tag on the top. “It’s for you.” He starts unwrapping it and adds, “You know watching me do this makes you guilty, too. You know that, right?”
“I had a story planned if we were caught. You threatened to beat me up if I didn’t stay.”
“Because I always beat you up,” he says dryly.
“I was going to say you’d secretly done it for years.”
“Devious, sis. Really damn devious.”