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“He’ll almost certainly try, but the key is he’ll be on U.K soil and we’ll be ready for him.”
“Just like you wanted.”
“Yeah, just like we wanted,” Dax replies with a tight nod.
My jaw begins to chatter as Dax kneels on the floor at my feet and begins rubbing my thighs over the towel to dry me off. His hands are warm, and I see the intent in his eyes as though he’s trying to rub away the events of tonight with his sheer will. But he has to know I’ve already scrubbed my skin raw of the blood. The terror and the violence aren’t so easy to rid myself of.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t what?” Dax asks, his hands stilling.
“I can dry myself.”
Swallowing hard, he nods, then climbs to his feet. I feel tears clogging my throat, but I refuse to let them fall. Fuck that. I survived years of my brother’s abuse. I’m strong enough to get through this, whatever it is that I’m feeling right now.
“When will it happen?”
“That I don’t know, but we have to be ready for anything.”
I meet his gaze and nod. “I’m scared,” I admit. I’m fucking terrified.
“I know, Kid,”
“So what happens now?”
“Now you get dressed. You’re gonna eat some food and then we’ll wait for news.” Dax says as he strides over to the chest of drawers and starts rummaging around, looking for something.
“What about David?”
“As far as Interpol can tell he isn’t in the country. There’s been no sign of him entering the U.K. through any of the airports or shipping ports.”
“He’s doing this all remotely?”
“It looks that way.”
“And Santiago?”
“Ah, here they are,” Dax says, ignoring my question. He pulls out some clothes from the drawer and hands them to me. “I figured you’d need something comfortable here for when you stayed over.” He hands me a pair of soft, grey, flannel pyjamas. I take them from him gratefully. “I cleared out the chest of drawers of my stuff and filled it with clothes you might need when you stay over. You should find everything you need in there.”
“You bought these?” I ask him as I stand, allowing the towel to fall away.
Dax swallows hard, but like the gentleman he is, keeps his eyes firmly fixed on my face and away from my nakedness. “Yes. Are they okay?”
“They’re perfect, thank you,” I say quietly, my heart hurting in a way I can’t describe as I pull them on. He watches me closely as he rests against the vanity unit.
“Kid—”
“You didn’t answer my question about Santiago,” I say, interrupting whatever he was about to say.
“Interpol has had no flags that he’s entered the country either.”
“Do you really believe this plan will work, that Santiago will settle this personally himself and walk into the trap?”
“You want my honest opinion?”
“Yes, please. I’d rather that than you lie to protect me.”
“I think Santiago would happily use your brother to try and take us out first. Whilst he’s known for dealing with betrayal and disloyalty himself, on this occasion I don’t think he’ll step foot in this country with your brother offering hisassistance. That’s why your brother’s got to die, Kid. Only then will Santiago step in.”
