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“I left her behind in Dubai.” He opened his mouth to say something and she hurried to continue before he could say anything. “I know I didn’t have a choice, but I left her there. That’s the truth. I’ve been looking out for her my whole life. I can’t just turn that off. She’s mysister.”
When he turned to look at her the anguish on his face took her breath away. “Do you know how hard it’s going to be for me to have you anywhere near thoseanimals?”
She did. She saw it in hiseyes.
She reached for his hand. “I do, and I’m sorry. I’m just asking you to weigh that against how hard it would be for me tostay.”
He looked at her for a long moment before pulling her against him. “Dammit,Julia.”
She leaned into his warmth and felt no victory in the fact that she’dwon.
9
Ronan satin the back booth of an Applebee’s and watched as the man entered the restaurant. He looked around, peering through the dimly lit space until his gaze landed on Ronan, then started towardhim.
It had been nearly a year since Ronan had seen Braden Kane. Ronan had been on a layover in L.A. on his way back from a job in Australia and had called Nora to see if she wanted to meet fordinner.
He hadn’t been surprised when she’d shown up with Braden. He and Nora had worked together at the FBI before they’d left to join forces with Locke Montgomery, who ran an outfit with the same goals as MIS, if not with the samerules.
MIS was a business, and it was run like one. Risks were weighed and calculated, the quickest, least risky path to completiontaken.
As with MIS, Locke’s enterprise was about more than money. Unlike MIS, it was equal parts a way for Montgomery to push the envelope, and Ronan tried not to think about Nora and Braden working for someone who seemed to relish risk where MIS avoidedit.
Ronan had met Montgomery only once and had had to hide his surprise: the man looked more Zen surfer than ruthless vigilante, but he’d learned in the years that Nora worked with him that Montgomery had his own brand ofjustice.
“Hey,” Braden said, folding his large frame into the seat across fromRonan.
“Hey. How long do you have?” Ronan asked. Braden had been in Boston on a job and was due to fly out later thatnight.
“About an hour,” Braden said. His hair was still cut short in a typical Fed haircut even though it had been years since he’d been part of theBureau.
Ronan understood. Old habits diehard.
They ordered beers from a waiter who looked too young to drink them. Ronan waited until he was out of earshot tospeak.
“How’s mysister?”
“She’s good,” Braden said. He chuckled and his face was transformed. “Keeps me on mytoes.”
“I’d expect nothing less.” Ronan liked Braden, but it was always weird to sit across from the guy who was sleeping with his sister, even when that sister was pushingthirty.
They were quiet as the waiter dropped off their beers. You could never be too careful in publicplaces.
“I take it you’re in some deep shit,” Braden said when the waiter was out ofearshot.
Ronan grinned. “AmI?”
He’d used a secure communication channel to give Braden the broad strokes of Elise Berenger’s disappearance and the connection to Manifest, hoping Braden’s connections with both Locke Montgomery and the Bureau might provide intel that would give them a leg up inFlorence.
“Word is to steer clear of these guys,” Bradensaid.
“Manifest?”
Bradennodded.
“Whose word?” Ronanasked.
“Everyone’s. Guys at the Bureau, some of the guys atFVEY…”
