Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 547(@200wpm)___ 437(@250wpm)___ 365(@300wpm)
“What have you done for me?” she whispered. “What happened with Halston? What do you know about Hugh and Michelle …?”
If I was disappointed Silver needed more answers, I didn’t show it. Because I’d told her there wasn’t a thing I wouldn’t do for her. And I meant it.
43. Tierney
My heart raced so fast, I could barely hear over the blood rushing in my ears. Ramsay’s story was unbelievable and yet I believed every word. A part of me wanted to throw my arms around him so he’d know that I didn’t judge him for his past.
If anything, I admired him more than ever for what he’d done for his country. Even if he wasn’t proud of the details—details I didn’t need to know—I would never understand the choices he’d had to make. So, I was in no place to judge.
However, I needed to know everything he’d kept hidden that had to do with me.
I had to.
Ramsay seemed to understand that. “I pay a hacker called Jay to check things for me. She also has a program running to remove any photographs of me that end up online. To keep people from the past who might recognize me from uncovering my whereabouts.”
“Is that why you have the secret wall room?”
“Aye. There’s a satellite dish hidden at the back of the house that connects to the internet as well.”
I gaped, momentarily forgetting big-picture stuff. “We could have been streaming Netflix? I could have checked my emails?”
His lips twitched. “Aye.”
“Seriously?”
He shrugged. “I was under the impression you rather enjoyed the way I kept you entertained.”
Heat flushed through me as the Scotsman smoldered. “None of that just yet.”
“Just yet?” He raised a hopeful eyebrow.
Getting back on track, I huffed. “You were saying about Jay …”
“Jay.” Ramsay nodded, serious again. “She helps me find things.”
“You mean hack people?”
“Sometimes. After you told me about Halston, I got some help from Jay but also from an ex-colleague. James and I came up in the agency together. From totally different backgrounds, but we were good friends. If I trust anyone from that life, it’s him. He’s now a senior officer and will probably one day take over as chief. Anyway, he used all the resources at his disposal to track down Shawn Prescott and connect the dots to Halston.”
“And he got away with that?” I asked because I didn’t want Ramsay or his friend getting into trouble with their government for me.
“Aye. There’s no way to say this without it sounding arrogant as fuck, but my government, and other governments, owe me. I’ve protected them economically and I’ve prevented cyber and biological weapon attacks against several countries. They owe me, and they know it.”
“Like James Bond,” I teased, trying to break the heavy tension.
Ramsay flashed me a quick grin that made my belly swoop with attraction. “Aye, I guess in that way like James Bond.”
“That’s where you disappeared to when I was in the hospital?”
He shifted, pushing up to stand, pacing back and forth for a second.
This sudden need to burn energy made me uneasy.
“Ramsay, what did you do?”
“He never saw my face.”
“Who never saw your face?”
“I flew here. To New York. James helped me infiltrate Cole’s club. I dosed him with a laxative and while he was alone in the bathroom, I broke his nose, almost choked him to death, threatened him that if he didn’t stay away from you, I’d make him disappear for good.”
My lips parted and a little sound, half gasp, half strangled laugh, escaped me.
I would have paid to be a fly on that bathroom wall.
“Are you … are you telling me that you … you threatened to kill Halston Cole and you made him shit his pants?”
Ramsay’s lips twitched. “Unfortunately, he made it to the loo in time, but he was quite distressed by the sudden, violent bowel movement, if that helps.”
Perhaps it was the strain of this entire day or weeks or months, but I laughed until I could barely breathe and was wiping tears from my eyes.
When I eventually calmed, Ramsay was on his knees before me, studying me with a warmth and tenderness he usually tried to hide. I reached out instinctively and smoothed a hand down his unshaven cheeks. His stubble prickled my palm and I shivered, remembering the feel of it as he kissed me … and as his face brushed my inner thigh.
“Thank you,” I whispered.
“You don’t need to thank me.” He covered my hand. “I told you. I’d do anything for you.”
“And Michelle?”
Ramsay’s expression tightened with sympathy. “Hugh overdosed her. He slipped too much GHB into her drink, trying to loosen her up. Her respiratory system failed.”
Horror suffused me. I felt sick. I’d lived with a man who had dosed a woman he was dating. I shuddered.
Poor Michelle.
“That son of a bitch,” I wheezed out.