Chapter Nineteen
J ude found Sloan sitting on his couch, her suitcase beside her, a distant look in her big brown eyes. Something had changed back in the O’Connor house, though he was at a loss to know what it was. Even when Sorcha had threatened her, Sloan stood up to him and demanded he keep his promise.
Jude crouched in front of her, putting himself in her line of sight. “She’s alive.” He’d left her tied as Sloan requested, but he didn’t like the woman’s odds once Callista Sheridan got ahold of her. Still doesn’t put Callista on my list. Not anymore .
“Thank you.”
He didn’t know what to say to that, didn’t know how to deal with the way his entire world had changed the second Sloan walked into it. Really, there wasn’t a damn thing to do but keep moving. He straightened. “It’s time to move.”
“Don’t you need to pack?”
He checked her eyes for signs of shock, but they were clear and her hands didn’t shake when she placed one in his.
“I’m ready.” He’d packed everything up but the bare necessities the second he’d gotten back to Callaway Rock after meeting with Dmitri. Even if he hadn’t, he was ready to leave on the fly as a matter of habit. “We’re taking my truck.”
She nodded, then looked away. “I have to call my brother to tell him about Sorcha. And before you say something scathing, I have several burner phones and will destroy them as soon as I hang up.”
“I wasn’t going to say anything.” When it came right down to it, Sloan had a point. Sorcha’s wrong hadn’t been aimed at him—it had been aimed at her own family. It was up to her family to deliver justice.
And if they didn’t…Well, he’d deal with that when the time came.
He wasn’t going to forget that Sorcha had pulled a gun on Sloan, and had likely had every intention of using it.
“Come on.” He kept ahold of her hand and grabbed her suitcase. It made it damn near impossible to get to his gun, but he didn’t like the stiff way Sloan was holding herself. She was going to break down at some point, possibly in the near future, and getting her in his truck took precedence.
He headed out his front door, not bothering to lock it behind him. There was nothing to find, no evidence that he’d ever been there or where he might be going. If someone wanted in badly enough, a locked door was child’s play to get past.
And a part of him wondered if he’d ever be back.
He’d enjoyed being so close to the beach, and even the townspeople weren’t that aggravating when it came right down to it.
More than any of that, this was the place he’d met Sloan.
The exact spot that had sent him spinning from the path he’d been on since he could remember.
The place where everything changed.
Jude didn’t usually waste time feeling sentimental about a house, but he was doing a lot of things these days that he didn’t normally do.
He tossed the suitcase into the bed of the truck and opened the door, taking in his surroundings.
There was no movement from the O’Connor house, but he didn’t expect there to be, and the rest of the street was deserted.
The rain would keep people inside, which was a goddamn blessing in disguise because it meant he didn’t have to worry about someone wandering over to make small talk the second he left his front porch.
He slammed the door behind Sloan and wasted no time getting into the driver’s side and gunning the engine.
With every street they passed, the tension wound tighter between his shoulder blades.
There weren’t any warning signs, no indication that someone was following them, and he’d scoured the truck for bugs before he’d gone to check on Sloan while she packed.
But it was still too easy. There should be something .
As if on cue, his satellite phone rang. He cursed and yanked it out of his jacket. “What?”
“Going somewhere?”
How the hell did that Russian fucker know?
Jude checked the rearview again, but there wasn’t any other vehicle on the road.
Then again, with the godforsaken trees trying to encroach on the highway and the way the pavement dipped and twisted, it was entirely possible that he had a tail just out of sight.
There weren’t many ways in or out of Callaway Rock beyond Route 101.
He could go north toward Seaside and cut east to Portland and hope to lose them there, or head south toward California… None of them good options.
He kept his voice detached, ignoring the questioning look Sloan sent him. “I was under the impression that we were aligned and you were going to mind your own goddamn business in the meantime.”
Romanov sighed. “Things have escalated, and we need to reevaluate.”
“That’s unfortunate. For you.”
“We’re in this together, MacNamara.”
Except they weren’t. Dmitri wanted Colm dead—hell, Jude still wanted Colm dead—but the Russian was more right than he knew.
Things had escalated faster than anyone could have anticipated.
With Sloan’s potential pregnancy in the equation, gunning for Colm on someone else’s schedule was too much of a risk to take. “The timeline has changed.”
“Unacceptable.”
He shot a look at Sloan. She was staring out the window at the dark trees as they flew down the road, but she would hear every word he said.
And why not? She knew who he was now. She knew what he did—what he had planned on doing.
He’d promised to leave Callista and Sorcha alive and unscathed, and he had no intention of breaking that promise.
But his chances of getting to Colm Sheridan without putting Callista in the crossfire could be complicated. He had to go back to square one and rework his plan from there. “You can say ‘unacceptable’ all you want, but you know better than to rush me.”
“Colm and Callista Sheridan have dinner at their favorite restaurant every week. There’s an apartment across the street with a perfect view of two of the three entrances. I expect you to make good use of it.”
Jude white-knuckled the steering wheel. “I don’t appreciate you doing my job for me.”
“I wouldn’t have to if you weren’t about to go back on your word.” Dmitri waited a beat. “You know what I do to people who break their word to me.”
“I’m not breaking my word. I just need more time. In the meantime, however you’re tracking me, fucking stop it. Or any consideration I have of working with you will disappear and I’ll take my chances elsewhere.”
“Do not cross me. You will be at that apartment with the appropriate weapons before their Sunday dinner—one way or another.”
“What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Are you going to kidnap me?”
Dmitri snorted. “Please spare me the dramatics. Once your identity is out, who do you think is going to be blamed if both the remaining Sheridans are assassinated?”
Even if I don’t pull the trigger, he’s going to make sure everyone thinks I did .
The realization sat like a stone in his stomach. The Russian had effectively backed him into a corner, and he didn’t know what the fuck he was supposed to do about it. He wouldn’t shed a single damn tear if Colm Sheridan was taken out with a bullet from someone other than him. But Callista…
Knowing she was pregnant, he’d be no better than Colm if he sat back and didn’t do anything to stop it. No better than Romanov.
Fuck . “I’ll be there.” At least then he could ensure the only person who died was the one who deserved it. Don’t know how I’m going to explain that to Sloan, though .
“I thought as much.” Dmitri hung up, leaving turmoil in his wake.
Sloan wasted no time, turning in the seat to face him completely. “Please tell me that wasn’t Dmitri Romanov.”
“It was Dmitri Romanov.” There was no point in lying to her.
Either she’d be able to handle everything or she wouldn’t.
It was better to know now than…What? He wasn’t letting her go.
He damn well knew it. She’d come into his life with her quiet strength and now everything he thought he knew was gone.
It didn’t make a single fucking bit of sense, but he was actually considering throwing everything he’d spent his entire life working for out the window if it meant keeping her safe.
More than considering it. He was damn near planning on it.
She smoothed her hair back, her hands only now shaking.
What did it say about Sloan that she could face down certain death by shotgun and be relatively unaffected but that Russian bastard flustered her calm?
That she’s a smart fucking woman . Sloan took a deep breath, and he could almost see her counting to three before she released it.
“Any kind of alliance with that man is out of the question.”
“I don’t remember putting you in charge of this operation.”
“Well, you should if you’re stupid enough to think that man won’t stab you in the back the first chance he gets.” Her voice shook and she made a visible effort to calm it. “He’s a snake. Worse than a snake. He’s not to be trusted.”
“I don’t trust him.” Especially considering the threat currently hanging over his head.
“I don’t…” Her breath hitched again. “I’m scared, Jude.”
“I’ll take care of you, sunshine.” He just had to figure out how the hell he was going to pull that off without signing a death warrant for both of them.
***
“You’re sure.”
Liam sat behind the wheel of the sedan, his face unreadable in the neon light from the bar across the street. “As sure as I can be. She’s John Finch’s daughter—his only kid. It took some digging because she disappeared off the face of the earth four years ago.”
Aiden studied the place. It looked like a thousand dive bars across the country—filthy and unassuming. The kind of place bikers and people up to no good would congregate. “There’s more.”