His hands cup my shoulders gently, and the contact settles me. “Then text him a recordin’. Zephyr, what do you have to lose?”
Nothing. If Martín can’t help me, my life is probably over.
I don’t say the words aloud. Ronan would freak out. Or he’d spend the rest of the night trying to convince me I’m wrong.
“What the hell. Worst case, he deletes it immediately. But I need a blank wall. Somewhere he can’t tell where I am.”
None of Ronan’s walls are decorated. It’s a damn good thing he only moved in a month ago. In the entry hall, he holds the phone up and nods when he taps the record button.
“I know it’s you,” I begin. “I’ll never forget your voice. Or everything you taught me. Like the code word. Violets. You’re the reason I’m still alive. But I’ve been running for years, and I’m tired. I’m in Boston. Someone betrayed me, and the cartel’s here too. You know what will happen if they find us. Help me. Between the two of us, we have enough evidence to take them down for good. I can get that intel to people who know what to do with it.Goodpeople. People I trust. People who’ll protect both of us. You have my number. Please…call me.”
Ronan ends the recording, and I text it to Martín. Now, all we can do is wait.
Chapter Nineteen
Ronan
A little after10:00 p.m., Wren calls. I angle my tablet so she won’t be able to see Zephyr and tap the screen. “Did you find anythin’?”
“Hello to you too, Ronan,” Wren says with a frown.
Running a hand through my hair, I want to kick myself. Wren works whenever we need her—even now with constant morning sickness. “Sorry. It’s been a long day. Are you feelin’ all right?”
Her voice softens, and she scoots back from the screen and cradles her baby bump. “I felt her kick at the doctor’s this morning. She was super active during the ultrasound, and I finally figured out I wasn’t…err…gassy. She’s been kicking for at least a week now.”
“That’s amazin’, Wren. Has Ry felt her move yet?”
Ryker McCabe passes through the video frame, pausing to give me a hard stare. “No, dammit,” he growls. “Our kid is going to hate me.”
“She will not!” Wren leans back and snags Ryker’s wrist, tugging him closer and placing his palm on her belly. “Just wait while I give Ronan an update on the assassin case.”
“It’snotthe assassin case. Zephyr’s never killed anyone,” I snap. “She’s innocent, and the Strauss Cartel is going to kill her if we can’t—”
“Watch your tone, asshole.” Ryker rounds the leather couch and takes a seat, his hand never moving from Wren’s bump. “It was the assassin case when Dax asked Wren to put the first dossier together. She’s been working for six hours straight, trying to untangle all the new shit you threw at her—”
“Ry? I can fight my own battles, remember?” Wren pats his hand. “And this ismycase. Not yours. Sit still and look pretty.”
Across the couch, Zephyr claps her hand over her mouth, and I laugh so hard I have to prop the tablet on the coffee table so I don’t drop the damn thing.
“Do you have a death wish, Ronan?” Ry asks. “If so, by all means, keep laughing.”
That cuts the laughter to an occasional snicker. Wren rolls her eyes, then taps her keyboard a few times. The screen splits in two, a man’s photo on the left and Wren on the right. “Meet Dante Lambert. He’s a junior data analyst at the General Investigation and Security Service in Antwerp.”
Zephyr sits up straight, her eyes wide. God, I wish I could tell Wren about her. The two speak the same language, and together…they’d untangle this mess in no time.
“Uh, Ronan?” Wren asks, killing the split screen and leaning closer to the camera. “For fudgsicles’ sake. Move the tablet so Zephyr can see what we’re talking about.”
In under two seconds, Zephyr’s on her feet. Fear steals all the color from her cheeks. She’s ready to bolt, and I don’t blame her.
“How…?” I ask.
Now it’s Wren’s turn to laugh. “Seriously? You’re sittingsidewayson your couch. That can’t be comfortable.”
“A piece of advice,” Ry says. “Don’teverplay poker unless you’re prepared to losea lotof money.”
“Come on, luv,” I say, then cringe. Wren and Ry don’t need to know how I feel about Zephyr. It’s bad enough they know she’s here. “You…uh…didn’t hear that.”
“Hear what?” Wren grins, then elbows Ry in the arm. “I told you.”
