“I’m not interested in the Irish or the woman.” The hard-ass crossed his arms over his chest. “I can give you guarantees they’ll be safe. But Enzo’s going down with his brothers. He’s the enforcer, Tierney. Got a lot of blood on his hands.”
I squinted at the tiny square window in the nail salon’s kitchenette, tsking. “I’m afraid I can’t help you, then.”
“Of course you can.” Tom pushed off the counter, hands tucked inside his front pockets now. He stepped into my personal space, a waft of his unapologetically masculine scent—musky leather, bourbon, and something clean and fresh—invading my senses. “You’re driven by vengeance, and you’ve been wanting to see Achilles pay for his sins for years now. I can make that happen.” His voice dipped low, burrowing under my skin and digging into the crevices of my conscience. “Give me information on the Ferrantes, and I’ll give you his head. You’ll get full immunity, a new identity, and security around the clock.”
“There’s only one problem with your plan,” I said.
“Enlighten me.”
“My love for my family has always outweighed my hate for my enemies.”
“Enzo’s not your family.”
“He’s Lila’s. She loves him. And I love her. If you can’t carve Enzo out of this deal, I’m walking out this door right now.” I swung my thumb to the front of the store.
Tom clutched his jaw. Clean, square fingernails. But I knew better than to buy into his slick-and-proper exterior. The bogeyman lay underneath. Someone quiet and frightening who thrived in the dark. “Give me two minutes.”
He threw the back door open and disappeared to make a call. I pulled out my phone, checking my messages. My mind drifted back to Achilles. I was sure his day was as chaotic as mine if not more, after the stunt he pulled in Naples. And because I was a softhearted idiot, a pang of guilt pierced through my chest.
He made you choke on his cock. Slapped you with his dick.
Okay, but I actuallylikedthose things. Just thinking about them made my thighs clench around nothing and fantasize about a repeat.
Truth be told, our weekend together wasn’t what brought me to this moment with Agent Rothwell. Yes, he used me as his sex doll for forty-eight hours, but I initiated the deal and, with over twenty orgasms under my belt, was more than a willing victim.
No. What made me sell Achilles and his father to the feds was the last decade of my life and the way he used it as a weapon against me—stalking, murdering my lovers, and calling all the shots for me.
Tom pushed the door open again, bathing the small room with sunlight. He closed it behind him.
“You think Enzo’ll turn against his family for immunity?”
“No chance.” I folded my arms over my chest.
“Then the best I can do is look the other way when we come for them and let him run.”
“Will you chase?” I squinted, studying him.
“Not for the first three or four days.” Tom checked his phone for the millionth time before pocketing it. “I can stall them, but I can’t stop them. As I said…” Tom lamented slowly, as though I was a petulant child, “Ferrante Junior has a rap sheet longer than a Dostoyevsky book. He is a murderer. Now that I secured your brother and his wife’s freedom, how about we get down to business?”
It was time to fess up. I was the chink in the great Ferrante wall of security. But all you needed was one hole in a dam to drown everything. Though the alliance between the Ferrantes and the Callaghans was fairly new, I’d kept tabs on their business for years. I knew every dirty secret about their operations and had evidence to back them up.
“I’m leaving the country in the next few hours.” I twisted off my ball cap and shoved it into my back pocket. “So the USB will have to do.”
“Where’re you headed?”
“None of your concern. Whatever you need, you’re going to have to get it before midnight. Which reminds me—I have a few loose ends in need of tying. I better go.”
He couldn’t stop me, since the FBI had absolutely zero ammo on me. I was as clean as a whistle as far as they were concerned, so any information I had was going to be given voluntarily.
“Are you in trouble?” he asked.
“Iamtrouble, Agent Rothwell.” I grinned from ear to ear. “Don’t worry about me.”
He raked his gaze over my face, pulling out a business card and a pen from his pocket and jotting something. “There’s a safe apartment two blocks down from here. After you’re done taking care of your travel arrangements, meet me there. We needstatements and recordings to go with the evidence. I trust I don’t need to tell you this conversation never happened.”
I saluted him.
“Oh, and, Tierney?”
