Ian was going to kill him. Liam slumped down, his back to the wall. His left arm ached, but it looked like it had only grazed him. He sighed. He’d fared far better than his opponents. MI6 was going to ream him a new bloody asshole for those corpses.
But Molina didn’t know who he was or at least he wasn’t telling his people. The would-be killer had called him Lee Donnelly, and he’d done it with the arrogance of a man who thought he was holding all the cards. Either Molina was hiding it from them or Nelson hadn’t let Molina in on the fact that they were here.
Very interesting.
Liam forced himself to move, getting to his feet so he could rifle through the dead guy’s wallet. Malcolm Glass. Citizen of England. He had a couple of tenners and a bunch of credit cards in several names. Nothing that really told him a damn thing.
Liam picked through his bag. He found his phone and dialed the one person he didn’t want to talk to.
“Yeah, you on your way to pick up your package?” It was a cell line. Ian would talk in vague language.
And so would Liam. “Ran into a bit of a problem, boss.”
There was a low growl. “The kind we can still ask questions of?”
“Nope. I would say all the questioning is over.”
“Fuck. I’m sending someone to you. How bad is it?”
“Just a little. But we might need to call our friends and get the name of a good cleaner.” Because someone was going to have to deal with the bodies.
The cursing began, and Liam let himself slide to the floor again. Ian would handle it from here. A sense of peace came over him. Sure it was fighting with the adrenaline that came from being shot at, but it was there all the same. He wasn’t alone. He’d fooled himself. He hadn’t been alone for a long time. The moment he’d woken up, filthy dock water in his lungs and a blank space in his memory, had been the moment he’d been reborn. For the first time, he understood a little tiny bit of the spark that kept Avery going despite everything she’d been through.
A man wasn’t his past. A man was his future, and it was something he had to fight for. And family wasn’t necessarily blood. The bonds of friendship could form tight family ties.
Adam pushed through the door. He must have been closer than anyone else, and it was obvious he’d run his ass off. “Holy hell. Jeez, what did you do to these guys? And that’s my shirt. Motherfucker. You got blood on my shirt.”
Brothers. They could be hell on a man, but he was damn glad to have them.
“Why didn’t you tell me my brother is alive and well and fucking my secretary?” Molina only waited long enough for the waitress to walk away before he started in on Nelson.
“I didn’t realize it myself until about a year ago. I found myself working with his team on the operation that led to my early retirement from the Agency.” Nelson leaned over, his face very serious in the gloom of the pub. Unlike the last place Nelson had insisted on, this pub was dark and on a quiet street. The restaurant before had been in the open. “Are you telling me Liam O’Donnell is here in London?”
“Are you telling me you didn’t know, ya bloody bastard?”
“Careful, Thomas.” Nelson placed emphasis on Thomas. “People might wonder why an American millionaire talks like he should be standing on the docks of Dublin with a pint in his hand.”
Molina tried to rein in his emotions. They seemed to be running rampant ever since the moment he’d realized dear Liam was still alive. “How did he get out of that house? I set it to blow the morning after I left. Early. He should have still been metabolizing the drugs I gave him.”
Nelson shrugged, a negligent gesture. “He must have had a stronger constitution than you guessed. You never told me why you didn’t just kill him like you did the rest of them. Why did you feel the need to kill those kids?”
“I liked it. It was fun.” And he’d needed a place to blow up. “I had to be able to disappear, and it had to look good. And I couldn’t be completely certain the explosives would go off. Anything can happen. Those dead kids were my backup plan to deal with Liam in case it all went wrong.”
“Why not just stab your brother, too? He couldn’t come looking for you if he was dead.”
It had been a moment of weakness. His brother had fallen into the girl’s bed. He’d been so drugged out of his mind that he hadn’t noticed when Rory raped the girl and strangled her. That had been a bit of fun. He’d fucked her and killed her, and big brother just slept right on beside them. But when Rory had gone to shove a knife through his gut, his eyes had opened. A stupid smile had come over his face.
We’re doing good now, Rory. We’re doing good, you and me.
And Rory had stood up and walked out telling himself it was enough to make it out with the bonds. Liam wouldn’t live. He wouldn’t even wake up. He would never know.
“That was obviously a mistake, but one that’s being taken care of as we speak.”