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“As off-limits as Rena.” Gage adds the lethal shot with his arms crossed over his puffed chest, jaw pulsing. “She’s marrying Wells.”
Cash twists back, eyes dropping to the stormy rock on Ivy’s finger. “Ahh. Missed that.” He sighs, and my fists clench while he eye-fucks her for another beat. “Understood.”
Ryker rolls his icy-blue eyes. “Sorry about that. Axel and I were hoping to have a few minutes with you and Ty, but …” His gaze shifts between Ivy, who stands beside me, soaking everything in with a quiet simper, and his brothers before landing on me in question.
Before I can answer, Ivy holds up her AirPods. “I have a playlist and a story waiting for me, so no worries. Thank you so much for the lovely accommodations. I’m sure it will make for a beautiful wedding day.”
Axel smiles at her. “Absolutely. You’re an impressive girl to get this guy down the aisle.” He’s well aware of Ivy being an assignment,although not privy to all the details. But his effort to offer her a traditional congratulations is appreciated. “You can make yourself comfortable over there. We’ll use the dining table.”
Generally, we would conduct this discussion in his office, but this way, I can still see Ivy. He must sense my unease.
She makes her way to a plush leather chair by a fireplace, pops in her earbuds, and opens her book. And just like that, she’s in another world.
Ryker studies her as he settles into his chair at the long mahogany table. “Should we be concerned with sharing delicate information?”
“No.” Ty chuckles. “She’s content. She won’t be paying us any attention.”
“She’s trustworthy as well,” I add. “But Ty is correct. We no longer exist to her.”
Axel pours us each a glass of Glenfiddich 30 Year Old, his brow cocked while eyeing me. “You’re attached.”
I don’t feel the need to entertain that statement.
He smirks at my silence. “Fine. We’ll move on.”
Ryker takes that as his cue. “What’s the update on Mercy? Location? Adjustment?”
Mercy is Ryker’s childhood friend, who found herself and her infant son in an abusive, life-threatening situation. We erased them both last Christmas.
“You know we can’t provide details such as location,” I say, sipping my whiskey.
This is another area our work can become messy when personal relationships are involved. Special treatment is expected, and we won’t risk it.
Ty’s dealt a lot with Mercy, so he interjects a smidgen of hope. “All things considered, she’s doing well. She’s a survivor. And Jett is thriving.”
“And have you found the bastard?” Ryker asks, referring to Dalton Montgomery, son of Governor Monroe Montgomery.
“Yes,” I confirm. “We have tabs on Dalton and Mercy at all times.”
Ryker growls, fisting his hands. “But he’s still breathing.”
“That’s what Mercy wants,” Ty says, subtly reminding him thatsheis the client. “As much as we agree the asshole needs extinguished, it’s important that she have control over some decisions. She doesn’t—”
“I don’t give a fuck what she wants,” Ryker barks, downing the entirety of his glass.
Axel places his hand on the back of Ryker’s neck in a warning to calm down. “Our thought is that if he’s taken care of, she can return. We’ll handle her anger.”
I sigh. “It isn’t that simple.”
We don’t contract kill. That’s a whole different racket. Our kills are only done when the completion of the mission requires it or if the client’s safety demands it.
Ryker kicks his chair back and paces. “You’ve killed for lesser offenses. We all have. Drag him back here, or tell me where he is, and I’ll take care of him. He beat her within an inch of her goddamn life!”
He’s not wrong. We have killed for lesser crimes. But that tends to add an extra layer of mess, and with the number of erased clients we’re still monitoring, messy is the last thing we need.
Ty has a knack for pacifying others, his tone satiny and controlled, unfazed by Ryker’s anger. “Mercy is adamant that we find another way to take him down. It’s the father of her child, and while she despises him, she can’t bear the thought of having to tell her son she had anything to do with his father’s death.”
Axel scoffs, swigging his drink with a grimace. “I have to agree with Ryker on this. It’s bullshit. Jett will be better off.”
