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14
LIAM
THE SUN IS just starting to rise behind me and I keep driving. Nothing is going to stop me from finishing this damn mission—not the FBI, not G3 sending thugs after me, and even though it sends a twisting feeling through my gut to think it, not Margaret.
Sending her into the clutches of the FBI was the absolute last thing I wanted to do. I knew there would be no turning back the moment I decided it was what I had to do, knew she wouldn’t trust me ever again, but because I’ve already dragged enough people into my mess, it was my only choice for saving them all.
Her coming with me to Vegas was only going to make life that much fucking harder anyway, having to protect her and myself, at least that’s what I tell myself when I start missing the way her hand feels in mine, the way she smiles at the most obnoxious moments, the way she calls me out, no matter the consequences. But, as I think of all the things I miss, I remember why FBI agents don’t do relationships. We don’t want to deal with the repercussions of having someone too close, someone who could be found and used against you.
I haven’t even seen my own sister in years for that exact reason. If anyone caught wind that I had family, they’d use them against me in a heartbeat. I can’t have them getting caught up in anything ‘Dan’ is doing when all they ever knew was Liam.
It’s exactly why I did what I did. I didn’t hear if Mike was back with his family, but I was pretty confident they didn’t give two shits where they got their information from as long as they had something to go on.
I don’t wonder about what happened because it would distract me from the primary goal. That goal is too damn important to worry about a woman.
I shake my head at my internal dialogue. Who the hell am I?
I’ve never let someone come into my life this way. I should’ve just let her be. They probably would have left her alone, so why did I drag her into this? I don’t have an answer except the one thing I don’t want to believe: that I care. I care about a woman for maybe the first time in my life, and letting her go—it feels as if a dagger is shoved straight into my chest.
It’s too damn dangerous.
Even though this mission is going to come to a close, I won’t be done with this job. I will have other missions, other assignments. Once I inform the FBI about what I’ve been doing, they will send me somewhere else, and Margaret will go back to her simple nine-to-five job.
Hell, now that she is with the FBI, I’ll probably never see her again.
A distraction by way of a growling stomach comes and I pause, briefly wondering when I last ate. It’s been a while, like maybe a day. It’s hard to keep track when you’re on the move like I have been.
I take a break from the drive, pulling over at a roadside diner. I empty the truck of everything I have, planning on not using it again once I’ve grabbed some food.
It’s not until after I’ve eaten that I get a call on my burner phone, the one only Mike and Margaret have a number for.
“Yeah,” I say, taking a last gulp of my water and standing, leaving cash on the table.
“Liam, look…” Mike takes a deep breath. Guy always has to make everything dramatic.
“Mike, you don’t have to say anything. I’d do anything for you,” I say, assuming that’s why he’s calling—to thank me for helping with Jen and Benny.
“That’s not what—no. Liam, I’m still with the FBI.”
I stop my stride toward the next car I’ll lift and say, “What are you doing?” My voice is borderline violent. Even if it doesn’t matter now, Margaret already told them everything she knows, so it wouldn’t surprise me if they try to pick me up on my way into Vegas.
“Something bad has gone down. The FBI agent they sent with Jen had only just gotten here when there was an explosion.”
My stomach churns, threatening to reject the food I just ate. “An explosion?”
“Yeah, man. Look, the agents were all okay, but…” His hesitation tells me what his voice can’t. Margaret is dead.
“Who did it?” I ask. My voice is steel, but my eyes start to burn, a reaction I wasn’t expecting.
“I don’t know, but they can’t find her body.”
I pause again, thinking about this. If they can’t find her body, that means something completely different. I reach the car, make quick work of opening it, and start driving.
“They took her,” I inform him.
“Who?” Mike asks. “G3?”
“It’s the only logical explanation.”
“Okay, what do we do?”
“You do nothing. Go home. I’ll handle it.”
“Dude.” Mike scoffs. “You may be the hotshot FBI agent, but I’m your friend. We’ve seen more shit than any normal human should, not to mention the fact that she willingly sacrificed herself to save my family. Let me help.”
I hesitate then say, “I can’t. I’m sorry.” I hang up the phone, tempted to throw it out the window, but I refrain. I don’t regret hanging up on him; he’s still with the FBI, and I can’t have them stopping me from doing what I need to do. G3 just fueled a fire, and now they have someone I care about. It isn’t just about shutting down their operation now. If they hurt her, there is going to be a bloodbath they aren’t ready for.
When I meet Anton, he’ll regret taking her. He’ll regret everything, including ever trying to go up against me.
