Chapter 20
Connor
The motel room smelled of stale cigarettes and cheap air freshener. I threw my duffel bag on the bed closest to the door and looked at Mia. She was standing by the window, all beaten and bloodied, peering through the gap in the curtains. I wasn’t sure if she was watching the rain come down or if she was half expecting to see Craven standing in the parking lot every time there was a strike of lightning.
I wondered how many times he raped her and decided it was something that if she wanted to talk about she would. I cleared my throat, and she flinched, yanking the curtain shut.
“Sorry,”
I said, softening my voice. “You should take the bathroom first. Clean up.”
She nodded without looking at me, grabbing the clothes that I held out to her and disappeared behind the bathroom. When the shower started running, I sank onto the edge of the bed and buried my face in my hands.
How the fuck was I going to tell Declan that my wife was sent to kill him?
I checked my phone. Three missed calls from him and two from Rory. No messages. Good because I wasn’t planning on calling either at the moment.
The shower shut off, and I straightened, trying to compose myself. When she emerged, her wet hair was slicked back, and she looked younger without the blood and dirt. My oversized t-shirt hung to her thighs, while she rolled up the ankles of my jogging pants. She looked adorably lost in my clothes, but somehow managed to keep the pants in place despite their much larger size.
“I used my hair tie,”
she offered, noticing my curious glance at her waist. “Looped it through the drawstring.”
Her wearing my clothes made her seem even smaller, more vulnerable. But I knew otherwise.
“Feel better?”
I asked, grabbing my own change of clothes.
She nodded, sitting gingerly on the edge of her bed. “Connor, I—”
“Save it,”
I cut her off. “Let me clean up first. Then we talk.”
∞∞∞
The hot water did little to wash away my confusion. I stood under the spray, letting it pound against my shoulders as I tried to make sense of everything.
When I came out, she was still sitting in the same spot, hands folded in her lap.
“Hungry?”
I asked, reaching for the takeout menu on the nightstand.
“I don’t think I can eat,”
she replied, then looked up at me with those damned eyes that had fooled me for weeks.
I ordered a pizza anyway, enough for both of us. While we waited, the silence stretched between us like a live wire.
“Start talking,”
I finally said, sitting across from her. “And don’t leave anything out.”
Mia took a deep breath, her fingers twisting the edge of the t-shirt. “Matheson has a hard on for your family. I have no clue why, he never said. He was the one to put the hit out on the captain of the clan.”
“Go on.”
She shifted uncomfortably, eyes darting to the window before coming back to mine. “I was assigned to get close to your family. It just so happened that Rory was looking for Cookie at the same time, and I wanted to meet Wren.”
I thought of Wren and how she would feel when she found out her sister was sent to kill her husband.
“So, you used your own sister to get to us? That’s cold, even for a professional killer.”
She flinched as if I’d struck her. “It wasn’t like that. I tried to refuse the assignment when I realized it was Declan and what he meant to Wren. But Matheson... he has ways of ensuring compliance.”
“What ways?”
I demanded.
Mia’s gaze dropped to her hands. “The agency doesn’t accept resignations, Connor. When you join, it’s for life. Those who try to leave end up like Craven—or worse.”
A knock at the door made us both jump. I motioned for her to stay put as I checked the peephole. Just the pizza delivery guy, looking bored and impatient. I paid him and brought the box back to the bed.
“Eat,”
I said, opening the lid and pushing it toward her. “Even if you’re not hungry.”
She took a slice mechanically, nibbling at the edge without any interest. I watched her for a moment before continuing my interrogation.
“How many people have you killed?”
The question hung in the air between us. Mia set down her slice of pizza and met my gaze steadily.
“Seventeen,”
she answered, her voice quiet but unwavering. “All of them were targets assigned by the agency. All of them people deemed as threats.”
“Were they really? Or just threats to Matheson?”
She shrugged and splayed her hands palms up. “I really have no clue.”
Despite him being old and sick, I had to know. “And Tomas MacGallan? My father? Was he one of your seventeen?”
The words felt like broken glass in my throat.
She shook her head. “No. I never touched your father. His death was natural, as far as I know.”
Relief washed through me, stronger than I expected. At least that part of my life remained untainted.
“Then Declan was the only target in our family?”
Mia’s eyes remained fixed on mine.
“Initially, it was Declan. Then when he found out who was to take over as captain... it became you.”
The pizza tasted like ash in my mouth, and I set it down, losing my appetite. “Yet here we are. You had plenty of opportunities to complete your mission. Why didn’t you?”
A small, sad smile crossed her lips. “Because you aren’t truly the captain yet, are you?”
“You’re right. The swearing-in ceremony hasn’t happened. But that’s just a formality at this point.”
She shook her head. “Not to him, it isn’t. The hit was specifically for the captain, doesn’t matter who it is. Until it’s official, I had... wiggle room.”
I let that sink in. “So, you were buying time?”
“No,”
she admitted, finally meeting my eyes again. “I could have easily taken Declan out. He’s a killer like me and a bit of an asshole if I’m being honest. Normally I would have been all over a hit that paid so well. But because of Wren, I couldn’t do it.”
“How much was the hit?”
“Five hundred thousand.”
I widened my eyes. “Dollars?!”
She nodded. “Yeah. And when I refused, he upped it to a million, and I still refused it.”
That was a lot of money. “Why?”
I pressed, needing to hear her say it.
She set her plate aside, drawing her knees up to her chest. “Because I got to know you at the wedding.”
Her voice caught. “Matheson paints targets as monsters, makes it easier to pull the trigger. But you... you cook breakfast for everyone. You stick your foot in your mouth when you try to flirt. You’re the sweetest man I have ever known, and you risked your life for a woman you barely knew.”
“A woman that was sent to kill me,”
I reminded her, though the bite had left my words.
“Yes.”
She didn’t try to deny it. “But I couldn’t do it. Not just because of the technicality of the title, but because I...” She trailed off, looking away.
“Because you what?”
“Because I fell for you a long time ago,”
she whispered, the words so quiet I almost missed them. “A week prior to me coming here. He knew about you becoming captain.”
I snapped my brows together. “How could he? I didn’t even find out until the day you arrived.”
She shook her head. “Don’t ask me how because I don’t know that. Anyway, I couldn’t kill the person who held me on the dance floor. So, I ignored Matheson. But then he sent that guy to my door on the day I was leaving for Athens, and I ran to you.”
I snorted. “You ran to Wren.”
She shook her head. “No, Connor. I ran to you. Don’t you recall how many times I tried to tell you what I was?”
I sat there for a minute and in my mind, I recounted each one. And every time, I interrupted her.
The confession hung between us, fragile. I wanted to believe her. God help me, I did. But trust was a luxury I couldn’t afford right now.
“So, what happens now?”
I asked, deliberately sidestepping her declaration. “Matheson will send others.”
Mia nodded, a flash of hurt crossing her features at my non-response. “He will. The agency doesn’t leave loose ends.”
“Then we eliminate the threat at its source,”
I said, the plan forming even as I spoke. “We take out Matheson.”
Her eyes widened. “That’s suicide, Connor. He’s surrounded by security. You can’t just walk up and shoot him.”
“No,”
I agreed, “but you know him. His routines, his weaknesses. And you have skills, I’m guessing, that go beyond just killing.”
A small, reluctant smile curved her lips. “I was top of my class in infiltration and extraction.”
“Then we use that.”
I leaned forward, animated now that we had a direction. “We turn your knowledge against them. Beat them at their own game.”
“And if we succeed?”
she asked, a flicker of hope in her eyes. “What then?”
The question caught me off guard. I hadn’t thought beyond survival, beyond keeping my family safe. What place could there be for us after this? Could I ever truly trust her? Could my family?
“One step at a time,”
I said, not willing to make promises I wasn’t sure I could keep. “First, we survive. Then we’ll figure out the rest.”
She nodded, accepting the non-answer for what it was.
“We should get some sleep. Tomorrow will be a long day.”
I took the bed nearest the door, putting myself between her and any potential danger. As I lay in the darkness, listening to Mia’s breathing gradually slow and deepen, my mind raced with questions.
Who was she, really? The deadly assassin who could kill a man seventeen different ways? Or the vulnerable woman I’d held in my arms after finding her.
And what did it say about me, that despite everything, I still wanted her, wanted to protect her?