The key when you’re picking an undercover name, brother, is to find one you won’t have trouble answering to. Stick close to the truth. That’s the best way.
His brother had always tried to take the lead. He’d always tried to teach him. The truth washed over the man who had been formerly known as Rory O’Donnell.
His brother was alive and in bed with his secretary. His dead brother had managed to show up right before Rory settled the biggest score of his lifetime. Rage shuddered through him. He couldn’t tell anyone. Malcolm was already set to kill Donnelly. If Rory was right, Malcolm should be told.
He couldn’t do it. It would make him look weak. He’d told his enforcer the story of Liam’s death a number of times. He couldn’t look weak now. And he couldn’t let Malcolm know that Nelson had potentially lied. A man like Malcolm went with the strongest leader he could find. He didn’t need to lose Malcolm to Nelson. Hopefully Malcolm would kill the Donnelly chap and no one would know the truth.
Rory looked out over the street. When they’d been children, they had lived in the slums of Dublin, and every night his brother would promise him that one day they would have nice houses and plenty of food.
He’d come so far from that rat hole, but it looked like his past was back to try to reel him in.
He’d killed dear Liam once. If Malcolm failed, he would have to do it again.
Chapter Seventeen
Avery’s hands shook a little as she put the coffee down. Even the slight clatter made her want to jump, and she’d made the sound herself. The break room at the UOF building was quiet and the sound echoed. She was jumping at everything today. She wasn’t cut out for all the spy stuff. This was her one and only foray into espionage.
She’d woken up with a spy in her bed, cuddled close even though she’d tried to turn away from him.
What the hell was she going to do about Liam? And what was wrong with her? She was in the middle of something serious and all she could think about was a man who had lied to her. A man who had used her. A man who was trying to do something right. She didn’t have a problem with his investigation, but did he really have to sleep with her?
“Are you going to get some coffee or just stare at the mug?"
Avery jumped at the masculine voice. She turned to see Simon Weston standing in the doorway, looking cool and collected in his perfectly pressed suit. He didn’t have a problem with the spy stuff, but then he was a real live spy. She was surrounded by them all of the sudden.
He looked around the small break room. It was empty, but he still kept his voice low. “Calm down, Avery.”
Yeah, she was trying. She’d been told that Simon had been filled in by his boss, Damon Knight, and would be her MI6 contact. After today, Liam was just a bodyguard if he hung around at all.
I’m not going anywhere, Avery. So stop thinking that I am. I won’t leave you alone. Not ever.
He’d whispered the words in her ear as he stood beside her on the Tube, the heavy traffic shoving them together, pressing them until they were nestled like puzzle pieces.
How long would it be before she would stop feeling his hands on her body?
She shook off the thought and grabbed the coffeepot only to have it clatter and shake. Simon cursed and took it from her.
“You’re going to get us all killed if you don’t stop,” he whispered. He poured out a mug of French roast. “It’s a normal day, just like any other. When the boss goes out, you go in and find those files. The minute I have them in hand, you’re out of this. It’s very simple, sweetheart.”
She nodded, but there was nothing simple about any of this. Liam was somewhere in the city getting ready to follow a man who was an acknowledged murderer. He was going to follow him and quietly take him down, very likely with lethal force. She’d been sleeping with a killer, and all she could do was pray that he came out of this okay. She wouldn’t be able to take a real breath until she knew he was all right. But she wasn’t going to let him know it.
“I don’t think you should start doing the new reports without me.” His voice changed, abruptly going back to the smooth tones he always used.
“Morning, people.” One of the women from fund-raising walked in with a cheery expression on her face. Janet. Avery was almost certain that was her name and that she had two small children. Was she in on Molina’s plans? Was everyone in on it? Would they all be watching her?
Simon gave her a little nod. “Morning to you. I was just telling Avery here that we’re all going to be able to relax once she and the big boss move on.”
Janet sighed. “Oh, how I long for the days of three hour lunches and Ping-Pong battles. And poor Avery is going to have to settle for the drudgery of Dubai. I feel for you, darling. I really do. All that sand and sun and wealth.”