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I shake my head.
“I worked with Alaric in the army and thought he ran a witness protection programme. I thought he could help her.”
“Fuck!” Freddie swears.
“That’s the night I lost my tongue,” I confess.
“Spencer did that to you?” Freddie questions, jumping to conclusions. “After he found out what you did?”
“No, Spencer never found out what I did. I quit working for him the next day and never saw him again until the Dukes took on his protection detail.”
“Then, who…” Freddie’s voice trails off as he works it out.
“Alaric made a deal with me,” I confirm. “He wanted my silence for her protection.”
“That twisted bastard,” Freddie mutters.
“I would do it all over again.”
“Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?” Freddie presses. “You said you lost your tongue in a drunken fight. You watched me visit the Penrose sisters’ graves for years! Why didn’t you tell me she was still alive?”
“I wanted to tell you. Many times. But you thought it was Daisy Penrose you met at the bar. There was nothing I could do to save her. If I’d known it was Ivy, I…” I stop typing. The truth is, I don’t know whether I would have told him. Spencer wanted her dead, and I vowed to do anything to protect her. I opt to change the subject. “I kept this secret for her. I thought I was protecting her new identity. I wanted to give her a second chance, just like the one you gave me.”
“This doesn’t change who she is now,” he says gruffly. “She’s a liar and a murderer!”
“Ivy is a victim, too. Alaric brainwashed and manipulated her. He made her a monster.”
“That’s enough questions for today,” he cuts me off. “Rest.”
He doesn’t look back as he storms out and slams the door, making it rattle on its hinges. We’re supposed to be a family, but I don’t think we’ve ever felt further apart…
CHAPTER 22
FREDDIE
Callen’s waiting outside Bram’s room when I march out.
“What did he say?” he asks.
“Watch him,” I bark, pointing at the door, successfully ignoring his question. “And when are you going to put some real fucking clothes on?”
“I didn’t know my robe offended you so much,” he mutters.
I’ll strangle him with that silky kimono thing he insists on wearing. It’s a Scottish castle, not the fucking Bahamas.
I leave Callen sulking while Bram’s revelations whirl around my brain. Why did he hide the truth about his history with Spencer? Keeping a secret for a stranger’s protection is admirable, but he could have trusted me. My shoulders slouch. I thought we were a team.
Since leaving the army, Bram’s sought redemption, but his saving her doesn’t change where we are now. Ivy’s still a killer, albeit also a pet project for his conscience. She’s undeserving of his loyalty. The woman she used to be is gone, and returning her to the Killers Club will save the Dukes. That’s all that matters.
I steady my breathing before entering the living room down the corridor to see Ivy and Seb. They’re sitting on opposite ends of the room. Seb looks uncharacteristically casual in a tight blackt-shirt with torn jeans, while Ivy wears an oversized button-down with woollen socks that are pulled halfway up her calves. We’ve all had to make do with clothes from Callen’s limited wardrobe, and I was lucky to claim his few garments of formal attire.
My footsteps make them look up from their activities. Seb’s sprawled across the red sofa, watching a football match on the miniature TV, even though he hates the sport. Ivy is curled up in an emerald green armchair, knees tucked underneath her, reading a battered copy of Pride and Prejudice that she must have found in the bookcase next to her.
This is how we’ve spent the last few days, constantly tiptoeing around each other. Ivy hasn’t said more than a few sentences to any of us. Whenever we’ve tried asking her questions, she only gives us brief answers, and we haven’t pushed her. She could be afraid that saying the wrong thing would result in her being banished to the dungeon.
Earlier, Callen told me that Bram should be strong enough to travel soon as he’s over the worst of the infection, so I’ve started planning our return to London. Between taking turns watching Ivy around the clock, I’ve also been working out where would be a suitable location to meet the Killers Club, if they ever reply to our message.
“Why didn’t you tell me you knew Bram before the dungeon?” I ask coldly.
