“Is that who you were talking to in Seattle last night?”
Was it only last night? Zephyr’s been in my life—in my bed—for less than twenty-four hours, and it doesn’t seem real. Like any minute, I’ll close my eyes and she’ll disappear. “Yes,” I say as I tighten my arm around her. “She used to be based here in Boston but moved out to Seattle a couple of years ago. Dax told me she’s considered one of the top five hackers in the world.”
Zephyr’s voice takes on a wistful tone. “I haven’t had…friends in four years. The idea that Martín could be in Boston? That between the two of us, we’d have enough evidence to take down the cartel for good? It seems too good to be true.”
“Why isn’t your word enough? Because of Yoden?”
She nods. “François and Alex told me Yoden was an arms dealer. The job was to get close enough to clone his mobile, then drug him and leave him in a…compromising position where the press could find him.” Her cheeks flush bright red, and she tries to curl away from me, but I won’t let her hide. Not anything. Not now.
“Keep goin’, luv.”
“I begged them to send anyone else but me. Two weeks earlier, I’d told Alex I wanted out. That I needed to make my own way. I’d even found a job. Zenia Vimes had a passport, a lease on a small studio apartment in Vienna, and she was supposed to start work as a technical writer a few days after theYoden job.”
“Zenia?” I try the word out again. “Zenia. It doesn’t suit you like Zephyr does, but I like it. Go on, then. You didn’t want to do the job.”
“IknewFrançois was hurting people. The money was rolling in like never before, and there aren’t many ways that happens. So I started digging around. The asshole didn’t eventryto hide what he was doing. Drugs, contract killings, guns…” Goosebumps race along Zephyr’s arms, and I pull the blankets higher over us. “I copied everything I found to a secure cloud drive and went to Oliver. There was no way I was leaving without my little brother. But…”
She shakes her head, burying her face in the pillow. A single sob shakes her entire body. “Shh, luv. I’ve got you. Let it out if you need to.”
I expect her to break down, to start crying and not stop until there’s nothing left in her. But I’m wrong. She takes a few deep breaths, then wriggles around until she’s facing me.
“Oliver refused to leave. Said François trusted him with everything.Everything. The look in his eyes, Ronan? He’d already killed. At least three times. The little boy I protected from the streets—the whole reason I joined Alex’s family in the first place—I turned him into a killer.”
“No!” The word sounds more like a growl, harsher than I intend, but I don’t regret it. “You did no such thing. That’s on François Strauss. Alex. And Oliver.”
She doesn’t believe me. Not truly. But a small bit of the guilt in her eyes fades. “I found out later…when they caught me…that Oliver was the one who ratted me out. He told François what I’d done—how I’d made copies of everything—and François sent me on that assignment to kill me.”
Chapter Fourteen
Zephyr
So many memoriesclaw their way to the surface, exploding like a volcano blowing its top until I’m nothing but raw nerves, held together by Ronan’s embrace, his warm breath against my neck, his scent surrounding me.
“I only agreed to do the job because Alex promised me it would be the last one. That he needed me. That Yoden was a bad man doing bad things to people, and this was exactly the type of job I excelled at. He practically begged me.” My voice threatens to crack, but I clear my throat and clench my hands so hard, my short nails dig into my palms to the point of pain.
“He was like your father,” Ronan says, his lips brushing my ear in a gesture so comforting, I want to melt every time he does it. “You couldn’t say no.”
“I had a sedative prepped, and I stole a housekeeping uniform from the hotel laundry. But he knew I was coming. When he opened the door to his room, he hit me with a tranq dart. I woke up naked and tied to a chair.” Stifling my shudder, I shove the overwhelming fear down as far as it will go. So deep when I close my eyes, I’m standing behind Yoden,watchinghim threaten me. “He wasn’t an arms dealer at all. He was a professional assassin. And he knew I’d been set up. He actuallywarnedme about François.”
“Shit. He didn’t try to kill you?”
“No.” A dry laugh escapes my parched throat, and I wish we were having this discussion over whiskey. But I can’t allow myself to get drunk. Impaired judgment could damn us both. “He told me to run. To disappear. That he was giving me this one chance to save myself, but if he ever saw me again, he’d kill me. And then the bastard tranq’d me a second time. I’ve never had a headache that bad in my entire life. When I came to, he was gone. Took me half an hour to get free.”
“So why go to São Paulo?” Ronan plays with a lock of my hair, the teal strands slipping through his fingers over and over again. These little touches mean more than I can possibly explain, and I wish I were brave enough to tell him that.
“Because Oliver begged me to meet him there. They had someone watching me.” Shrugging, I continue, “I never found out who. But they knew Yoden hadn’t killed me. I thought my brother had come to his senses. That’s what he led me to believe. But when I got to the meet, the police were waiting for me. I barely escaped.”
My voice is starting to fail. The adrenaline—and tea—that kept me going all day is long gone. Laying my head on Ronan’s chest, my arms winding around his waist, I close my eyes. I’ll tell him the rest of it. Stay up until dawn if I have to. After a few minutes’ rest.
“You’re exhausted,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to my temple. His fingers find their way under the t-shirt, skimming my scarred back with the lightest of touches. “Sleep with me, luv. I like having you in my bed.”
Forcing my heavy lids open, the truth hits me so fast, it steals the breath from my lungs. I want tostayin his bed. Every night. For as long as it’s safe. My biggest fear? That ‘as long as it’s safe’ won’t last more than another day. Maybe two.
My core clenches at the sight of him. The rough stubble he didn’t bother to shave today, the piercing blue eyes, those dark reddish brows and the light dusting of freckles over his nose. He stares at me like I’m this wondrous, precious jewel, and no one has ever made me feel so special. Sowanted.
He’s initiated every kiss. It’s my turn now.
Our legs tangle between the sheets, and I wriggle up so we’re face to face. “What if I don’t want to sleep?”
