Page 20 of The Endless Want

I gather the supplies—groceries, toiletries, a few things I know Nadia likes—and head out before irritation bleeds into something under my skin. The car ride over is quiet, the city washed pale by morning light. I try not to think about how easily Liam can shift me from strategist to delivery girl when fear creeps in.

I'm halfway there before the other read arrives, and once it does I can't unsee it. He didn't hand me an errand. He handed me the one piece of information in this family worth stealing, and told me to carry it across the city in a marked car.

If the address holds, I'm clean.

If it doesn't, he has his answer and Nadia has a week to hate me for it.

I keep driving.

Nadia’s temporary safehouse this time is a modest apartment tucked behind a row of faded brick storefronts. It’s secure and clean, and absolutely not where she wants to be. But it’s better than the last place in more ways than one.

I knock twice, pause, knock once more. She opens the door with a heavy sigh.

“Prison commissary delivery?” she deadpans.

“Don’t start,” I reply, stepping inside. The place smells faintly of the disinfectant Liam insisted be used during the prep.

Nadia crosses her arms. She looks better than the day in the stairwell, but her eyes still carry that frayed, restless edge. “If I stare at these walls any longer, I’m going to start alphabetizing my trauma.”

I nearly laugh, but she’s too tense. I set the bags on the counter. “Brought food. Toiletries. New books. Liam insisted on half of it.”

She snorts. “He’s sweet when he’s worried. Annoying, but sweet.”

I unpack the items while she watches, her foot tapping a restless rhythm against the floor. “You resent me,” I say quietly, not accusing—just naming it.

Nadia stiffens, then looks away. “Not resent. Just… jealous, maybe. You get to work. You get to move. To breathe. I’m stuck here waiting for Liam to decide I exist again.” Her voice softens. “It’s not your fault. Just the lack of freedom getting to me.”

“We’re in this together,” I remind her, turning toward her fully. “Even if our roles shift, the goal is the same.”

She nods, but the movement is more exhaustion than agreement.

“You want me to tell Liam to let you out more?” I ask gently. “Or assign someone to stay with you who isn’t… me?”

She lets out a tiny laugh. “Oh God, no. He’d assign Kellan, and I’d end up murdering him out of boredom. Or he’d assign Declan, and I’d have to take tranquilizers to deal with the intensity.”

I smile despite myself. “I could ask Liam to spend more time here with you, you know. Or at least stop treating you like radioactive material.”

That strikes a nerve; Nadia’s shoulders drop. “He’s avoiding me because he knows I’m tied to all this. It’s easier for him not to look at me and remember how deep the Russians had their hooks in.” Her throat tightens. “I worry Dara is in deeper than we realized. She would never leave marks unless⁠—”

“Unless she was ordered to,” I finish.

Nadia meets my gaze. “You need to be careful. Dara’s methods aren’t like the men’s. She observes before she strikes. She won’t come at you directly. She’ll make your own people suspicious first.”

I swallow. “I’m aware.”

“No, you’re not.” Nadia steps closer. “Declan thinks he can fix it by going rogue. Liam thinks he’s on top of it. Neither of them realizes how long she’s likely been in motion.”

The words sink through me like cold rain. I grip the edge of the counter. “Nadia… don’t mention any of this to Liam. If he thinks I’m more entangled than I already am, he’ll bench me completely. And then Declan and Kellan will be left to manage a crisis Liam can barely handle as it is.”

Her eyes soften, then sharpen. “He’ll kill me if I withhold something important.”

“He won’t,” I say firmly. “He doesn’t want you hurt—not by Dara, not by this clan, not by the walls of this tiny apartment.”

She studies me for a moment and finally nods. “All right. I won’t say anything. But do not underestimate what any Russian is capable of.”

“I won’t,” I promise.

Nadia’s expression turns unexpectedly vulnerable. “Ailish… if Declan gets himself killed trying to protect you⁠—”