“And she doesn’t want to.”
“How did you figure that out so fast? I sure wasn’t expecting it.”
“She’s in charge of a very lucrative business,” Liam answered. “Not a lot of people would want to give that up.”
“I don’t think she cares about the money, but she has gotten attached to running Rogue. Maybe it’s because she doesn’t have much family, maybe it’s just the challenge of the work. But whatever it is, she’s sunk her teeth in and doesn’t want to let go.”
“She can’t be Xavier, so how is she proposing to deal with the Russians?”
“She wants to meet with them herself and tell them Xavier was a cover for her all along.”
Liam seemed to think about it for a moment. “It could work,” he said. “If none of them have ever met Xavier, who’s to say he’s not a she? They’re computer geeks. They catfish all the time, right?”
“I think you’re missing the point here. She wants to meet with them. Face-to-face with Sergei and his boys.”
“Well, if she wants to take the chance,” Liam answered lightly.
“How the hell can you say that? She has no idea what she’s getting into.”
“She’s a grown-up, and a smart one. If anybody can handle themselves in a situation like that, it’s her.”
Cian raised his eyes to the ceiling, rolling his shoulders once, working hard not to explode. How could Liam not understand how Cian felt about Lila? Not realize that Cian would do almost anything to protect her, just as he protected everyone he loved.
Liam’s voice softened a touch. “Look, I know you care about her, but I also know there’s no way you can protect her twenty-four seven, and you can’t keep her.”
“That doesn’t mean I want to send her to her death.”
“She was living the life when you met her. You can admit how smart she is, but you don’t think she’s smart enough to make this choice?”
Cian ground his teeth at that one. Liam was right, Lila was the smartest person he’d ever known. How could he say she wasn’t smart enough to understand this risk?
“I need to talk to Finn. I need him to tell me what we can get out of a meeting between Lila and the Russians.”
“And that’s just the kind of brainy info Finn will love to give you.”
Danny approached and took a step onto the bottom stair of the porch. “Boss? We really need to get moving. Word on the street is the Russians know we’re hiding Liam in this neighborhood. It’s just a matter of time before they find the exact house.”
Cian nodded at Liam, who headed back inside the house. A moment later, he reemerged with Katya alongside.
“We’re ready,” Liam said, looking warmly at the lithe blonde next to him.
Cian got that same knot in his stomach again as he watched his brother with the girl. He wondered where all this would end up. And he thought back to Liam’s words to him: you can’t keep her.
It was after midnight when Lila heard the knock on her door. Always a night owl, she hadn’t yet gone to bed, but had to pull on some sweats with the T-shirt and underwear she’d been wearing while she read an e-book under the covers.
“Yes?” she asked through the front door.
“It’s me,” came Cian’s voice.
She opened the door, and he stepped inside, Danny leaned in, giving her a wry smile as he shut the door behind his boss.
“Hi,” Cian said softly, staring at her.
She felt like a snarled mess inside, so happy to see him, yet angry and sad all at the same time. She tried to temper the emotions and gave him her most neutral expression.
“Can we talk?” He gestured to the living room.
She nodded, arms folded tightly across her middle, and led him to the sofa, where she took one end and he took the other.
“I’m sorry about how things went earlier. You have to know…” He rubbed the back of his neck, clearly agitated. “I care about you, Lila. And the idea of the Russians and what they could do to you, it makes me crazy.”
She folded her legs up underneath herself, leaning against the arm of the sofa, too aware of his heated gaze on her as she moved.
“I understand the feeling.” She gave him a hard look.
“Touché,” he replied.
“And I’m not interested in dying or being used as a sex slave, but this is a calculated risk. This is what I do every day. Hacking is all about calculated risks. It’s gambling…” She paused. “I’m just starting to realize that.”
She closed her eyes for one brief moment and saw her father’s face, and understood, at that moment, his legacy was much bigger than she’d ever imagined. While she’d always thought she was taking what her father had dragged her into and turning it against the world, what she’d really done was turn it against herself. She had become him. She might not play poker and bet at the races, but she gambled all the same.
So now she was about to take a lifetime of experience and turn it into her biggest gamble ever. One that involved more than other people’s money, more than anyone’s reputation, more even than possible jail time. She was going to gamble with her own life. And she felt she could win because she was smarter than her opponents. But wasn’t that the fatal flaw of all gamblers?
“I’m not sure you have all the facts you need to calculate the risk on this one. The Bratva doesn’t behave like the kinds of people you’ve been dealing with at Rogue. They don’t even behave like me. They’re more like an entire organization of my father,” he continued.
“I’ve met your father. I’ve watched your father. I think I get the idea.”
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees, and looked at her from under the shock of hair falling over his brow. “No, you don’t. Even Connor and Finn don’t get it. The only two people in this world who truly know what my father is capable of are Liam and me.”
As many things as Cian and Lila had shared, things about his family weren’t among them. She knew how much he loved his brothers. She knew he’d facilitated Connor’s disappearance with Jess, but Cian didn’t talk about his father, or the inner workings of his family. Lila and Cian had touched each other’s bodies, and try hard as they might to avoid it, they’d touched each other’s hearts, but they’d kept away from touching each other’s souls.
Now, when she saw what was in Cian’s eyes, Lila felt her resolve falter. She had a simmering need to see what lay at his very core, the essence of who he was and why he did what he did.
“Tell me,” she demanded before she could stop herself. “Tell me what he did.”
Cian watched her, his blue eyes sparking in the low light, his expression tense with pain.
“No,” she corrected, “don’t. I’m sorry I asked. I shouldn’t pry.”
He reached across the gap between them and took her hand in his. “It’s not because I don’t trust you. It’s because I don’t want to burden you. You have a good heart, Lila. It would hurt you, and I don’t want Robbie MacFarlane to ever hurt another person I care about.”
She understood.
“But believe me when I say the Russians are capable of every cruelty he is and possibly more. If you insist on doing this—meeting with them—I can’t promise to protect you or to save you. I’ll do everything in my power—” He paused as if he was going to continue, but then swallowed the words back down. “But I can’t promise anything.”
No, she thought, Cian couldn’t promise anything. And wasn’t that the story of them. No promises, no future. He’d never lied to her, and she knew he wasn’t now. But still, she was going to do it. And yes, she wasn’t ready to give up Rogue, and yes, she hoped she could find out something that would benefit Cian, but maybe she was also going to do this because she really had nothing to lose. Because without a future with Cian, she was beginning to think she didn’t really want a future at all.
“I understand,” she answered. “Does this mean you’re going to let me do it? Meet with the Russians?”
His gaze went to the
ceiling briefly. “God help me, I think I am.”
The moment of triumph crossed over into fear in a split second. She was going to meet with the Bratva. It was a little sobering. But she rebounded quickly because she could do this. She knew she could. She could keep Rogue alive and also help Cian. It was worth it, and she was a gambler’s daughter after all.
“They expected me to answer them this afternoon. I didn’t. I’m sure they’re very unhappy.”
“That’s okay. We can spin it. You’ve been afraid to meet with them because you’ve been deceiving them. It goes with the story you said you wanted to tell.”
Yes, she thought, it did. It all fit. “I’ve been thinking more about that. In case they have ever seen Xavier or a photo of him, I think I should say he was an employee. It’s possible that when they researched him in the first place, they found some photos of him, or even that they had him followed before they approached him. But if I say he was an employee who I used as the ‘face’ of Rogue, I think that will explain it all.”
“As usual,” he said, “Your idea is gold.”
“Okay, so how do we proceed?”
“We get Finn over here, and we work out the entire thing from the moment you answer their demand to meet to the minute you walk away from them unharmed.” His voice was fierce with determination, and Lila felt a surge of courage in her own chest.
“And I bet you’re going to bring Finn over right now.” She smiled.
“You’d win that bet.” He pulled his phone out of his pocket and shot off a text. When it pinged in response a second later, he looked at her. “He’s on the way.”
“Guess I should make some coffee, then.”
Cian stood when she did and put a hand on her arm to stop her.
“How much longer?” His eyes were tender.
She cocked her head as she looked at him, trying to understand what he meant.
“How much longer are you going to stay?”
She swallowed the lump that formed as his meaning became clear. How much longer meant how much longer could she manage Rogue? How much longer could she help her mother? How much longer could she pretend Cian was hers? How much longer? It was the single greatest question in her life. And the only one she didn’t have an answer to.
“I don’t know,” she told him honestly.
“I can’t protect you forever.”
She watched him again, and a shard of glass wedged in her heart. Protect her from the Russians? Protect her from the world in general? Or protect her from something she didn’t even know was after her yet? The look in his eyes sent a tremor down her spine.
She swallowed and nodded. “Okay. I know. Let me help with the Russians, and then I’ll go.”
His gaze softened, and he reached out to run a finger down her cheek. “It’s not what I want, Lila. Just what has to be.”
So now she knew. She had her answer, and she knew it had to be. She also knew no matter what, it wasn’t going to be pretty.
Chapter 12
It was nearly midnight by the time Liam got Katya and their few belongings stowed in the small duplex outside of Oak Brook. It was their third safe house in one week, and Liam had to admit he was tiring of it. He wasn’t sure what he had thought would happen when he took Katya in the first place. While he wasn’t like Connor, who would act with no thought at all, Liam planned things on a moment-by-moment basis. In his world, life was like a military operation. You made sure to be prepared before you went in. But you didn’t look beyond the next mission, the next twenty-four hours, because really, you didn’t know if you would be alive for it.
So, Liam had known he wanted to save her, and known he was compelled to protect her, but now? Now, he was confused. Cian had made it clear they needed to send Katya on her way, and while Cian had more patience than just about anyone Liam knew, with the possible exception of Finn, he also had the world on his plate at any given time. Liam couldn’t continue to put this additional burden on his brother. He had to do something other than slink from safe house to safe house, hoping some magical solution presented itself.
“You are hungry?” asked Katya as she joined him in the kitchen.
“No, but I’m happy to get you something if you are.”
He looked at her as she hopped up onto the countertop, swinging her long legs while she watched him. He could tell she had already put on some weight. Eating regular meals and getting enough sleep was helping. Her bruises had faded almost completely, and the dark circles under her eyes were gone as well. Every day that passed, she looked healthier, more relaxed, happier. And Liam had to admit, it made him happy to see her happy. He didn’t want to give that up.
“You don’t need to always… How do you say? Serve me,” she told him. “At home, in Russia, my mother work two jobs. When I was small, an old woman in our hall would feed me. I stay in her apartment. She watch old German soap operas every day, but she at least feed me. When I was old enough for school, I am old enough to feed myself.”
“Meanwhile my mother made us three meals a day,” he answered her, reaching into the fridge and taking out a loaf of bread and the cheap lunch meat his men had stocked the place with. “Breakfast, lunch, and dinner, seven days a week, our whole lives. And before we moved out, she taught us how to make a few things for ourselves—you’ve pretty much seen everything I’m able to cook.”
He began putting together the boring sandwich, then found some chips and a soda as well, before presenting it all to Katya on a paper plate.
“But this isn’t cooking, this is assembly. So have some of what I’ve assembled. I don’t mind serving you.”
She laughed softly, and he smiled back at her, and for the first time since he was sixteen years old, Liam MacFarlane wanted to think about what was going to happen more than twenty-four hours into the future.
But what would that future look like? Liam couldn’t bring a single image to mind—not one that included him anyway. All he saw when he thought of the word “future” was his brother Connor, standing on a beach somewhere, looking at the ocean with the love of his life, Jess, at his side. He saw Connor in a tux getting married, standing over a crib looking at a baby, getting an award at a restaurant he managed. When Liam thought about a future, he thought about Connor. And that was telling in and of itself.
Why had he never thought more than twenty-four hours ahead? When had he become so entrenched in living life from one act of violence to the next that he’d forgotten to dream, to hope, to plan?
“What did you want?” he asked. “When you decided to come to the US, before you realized what they had planned for you, what did you want?”
Katya’s smile dimmed, but her eyes grew dreamy. “I want to be free—free from no money, free from life with my mother, free from fear I turn into her. I did not expect to be rich in America, I want to be alive. In Russia, my mother was like dead, our home was like dead, our world was like dead. The rich are more rich, and we are more poor every day. It is a weight on you, and it makes you dead inside, even when you walk as if you are alive.”
With a blinding clarity, Liam suddenly understood exactly what she meant. Because poverty didn’t just come from lack of money, it could come from lack of love, lack of security, lack of companionship. And poverty could come from lack of hope. He realized that in the last sixteen years—half his damn life—he too had been dead inside. Since the day his father pointed a gun at his head and told Cian to make a choice, Liam had lived without hope.
Liam’s bank account might not be impoverished, but his soul certainly was.
“You are nowhere near dead,” he said, involuntarily taking a step toward her. His voice was fierce with conviction as he continued. “Even after everything you’ve been through, you are full of life—you love your friend, Nadja, you keep fighting to stay alive, you’re learning to trust me even after I abandoned you.” He stepped closer again and saw her pupils dilate, but somehow he knew it wasn’t with fear.
“I know what it feels like to
be dead inside. I’ve lived that way my whole adult life. But when I saw you tied to that chair, something came to life in me. Something that’s still growing. It’s taking time, but it’s there. I feel it, and the life inside you is what gave it to me.”
Her lips parted, and Liam knew he was going to do it, knew it was a foregone conclusion. In the back of his mind, he hoped it wouldn’t ruin everything, but the rest of his mind and body couldn’t be bothered to weigh that risk. He had to show her, show her how alive both of them still were.
So he reached out, cupping her cheek in one big palm, and pressed his lips to hers. A small gasp escaped her, and she was very still for a few moments as he brushed his mouth against her pillowy flesh.
His hand slid around to the back of her head, his fingers burrowing into her long, wavy hair.
“You’re bringing me back to life, and I don’t know how I can ever thank you for that.”
She blinked at him, her big eyes wise and vulnerable at the same time.
“Why I believe you?” she asked softly, turning her cheek into his caress. “I have never known good man, from man who fathered me and left before I was born, to men who paid for me—and you are not good man. You tell me this yourself. So why do I believe you when you say I bring you back to life?”
He chuckled softly, leaning his forehead against hers. “I don’t know,” he answered, his voice gruff. “I don’t deserve your belief, and I sure as hell don’t deserve your kisses, but I’m feeling really damn lucky to have them both right now.”
She grinned then. “You are strange man, Liam MacFarlane. But for now, you are strange man who makes me feel more alive too.”
Liam’s heart soared, and he kissed her again, with more intensity, finally breaking after several minutes of tangling tongues. His breath came hot and heavy. “I don’t want to push you too fast,” he whispered. “You’ve been through so much.”
Brush of Despair (Dublin Devils Book 2) Page 12
