It looked like he was in bed with more than just Avery. He could walk away. It was an option. He could disappear, but then she would be alone and at the mercy of men who had none. And he would never know the truth. Not about himself or his brother or Ian.
“Good man. Ian’s in a car waiting for you. He was very upset when he found out you were in custody. Seriously, I thought he was going to take someone’s head off.” Knight ran a hand across his face, a weary gesture. “Go on, then. He’ll take you back to the girl’s place. You need to be with her before she wakes up. Women don’t like it when you sneak out of their beds. I’ll take care of this one.” Knight turned as Liam got up to walk out. “Talk to Ian. This is pile of information is meaningless without the truth behind it. You can interpret this information in a million different ways, but Ian is the only one who knows the truth. I would trust that man with my life.”
Liam nodded, giving Knight a smile he hoped was fairly carefree. “Hey, mate, I’ve known Ian for years. He’s protected me. I’m not going to let some papers change that fact.”
But he was numb inside as he made his way out of the house. That file did change things, and he needed to get to the bottom of it. The question was how to go about it. He couldn’t trust anyone on his team. He had no idea if they were in on it.
He hated this feeling. He’d trusted them to watch his back. He’d fought and bled with these people. How could he think this way? How could he think that Jake and Eve were in on a plot to keep him ignorant?
It was only paranoia if they weren’t really out to get him.
Ian was standing beside a black BMW, an annoyed look on his face. “Li, we need to talk. I didn’t tell you about the MI6 shit because Damon asked me not to. He facilitated us coming in on their op. He didn’t think for a second that Weston would get around your cover and actually try to arrest you.”
But Weston hadn’t done that. Weston had just tried to show him a ton of information that would have been good to know five years before. “No problem, boss.”
Ian didn’t know what Weston had shown him. He would know soon enough. Knight would fill him in, but at least tonight Liam didn’t have to listen to explanations. He needed time to think.
Ian stared at him warily as Liam hopped into the passenger’s seat. “Are you all right? He didn’t pull any shit with you, did he?”
Weston had pulled the rug out from under him. He’d unsettled the only world Liam had known for the better half of the last decade. “He didn’t waterboard me, boss. He did offer me stale biscuits. That’s torture.”
Ian sighed. “I’m glad to hear it. I wanted to deal with the little fucker myself, but Damon talked me out of it. You’re cleared officially now. Damon saw to it.”
“Good.” Liam stared forward. “Let’s get going. I don’t want Avery to wake up without me.”
He slipped back into his Midwestern accent like a security blanket he pulled on to protect himself. He was on a mission, and it had far wider parameters than he thought because now he had to figure out if Ian Taggart had a hand in killing Rory.
Ian turned the ignition and pulled away from the suburban house. “What’s going on? Damon just managed to work a deal that officially clears you of all wrongdoing and set things straight with G2. You’re clear, Li. Don’t you have anything to say about it?”
If Weston was right, Ian could have done that himself at any time. “It’s great, man, but I don’t exactly have a hankering to head home or anything. I do appreciate it.”
Ian’s eyes stayed on the road, but frustration dripped from his voice. “Are you sure there isn’t something you want to talk about? Are you having mixed feelings about sleeping with Avery Charles? You’re protecting her, you know.”
“Yeah.” How had Ian protected his woman? “I know. It’s fine. I’m fine.”
Ian drove the rest of the way in silence while Liam’s brain raced with a million possibilities.
Unfortunately, not a one of them was good.
Chapter Nine
Avery woke up, blinking in the early morning light. She stretched, her muscles deliciously aching. Every minute of the night before came flaring back to life. She’d made love with Lee Donnelly, big, gorgeous Lee with the broad shoulders and beautiful face and filthy-as-sin mouth.
She’d made love with him in the middle of the night, but now it was morning and time to face the music. She didn’t look great in the morning. He probably would stay and have breakfast and be polite because that was the kind of man he was, but he would extricate himself from the situation and she needed to look cool and collected. God, she wasn’t cool and collected. She pulled the sheet up, unwilling to turn and look beside her. What if he was already gone?
How did these things work? What made her think she’d be able to handle a one-night stand?