She shifted her feet and averted her gaze.
“Bailey?” he said suspiciously.
With a sigh, she slowly met his eyes again. “Then I guess this is a bad time to tell you that Morgan’s men will be arriving tomorrow.”
Rain sprayed the windshield as Liam drove through the streets of Dublin, heading for the address Bailey had texted him. He was riding with the rookie, who was busy typing on his phone, the click of Ash’s fingers cutting into the rapid swipe of the windshield wipers.
Sullivan and D were in the second car, and Liam was slightly relieved that Sully wasn’t the one sitting next to him. Seeing his friend again was . . . awkward. Sure, they were laughing and joking the way they always had, but tension continued to simmer beneath the surface, that same stilted awkwardness that had plagued their friendship since the . . .
incident
.
Neither of them had brought up what happened in Paris. From what Liam could tell, Sullivan had completely pushed it out of his mind, which only made him all the more determined to do the same. He
had
to quit thinking about it. He and Sully were friends. Nothing more, nothing less. All those threesomes had simply messed with his head and triggered a case of good old-fashioned curiosity that it was now time to forget.
Curiosity.
Christ, his family would die of horror if they knew
what he’d been
curious
about. His folks were traditional as fuck. So were all seven of his siblings. Everyone in his family was happily married, and he knew they wanted the same for him, the whole home-and-hearth thing that his brothers and sisters thrived on.
But he wasn’t like them. He’d always wanted more out of his life. Action, adventure, and the adrenaline high he received from both. The DEA hadn’t fully satisfied those urges, but working as a mercenary did. His family didn’t understand it, though.
Hell, they didn’t understand
him
.
A snort sounded from the passenger seat, and Liam rolled his eyes when he saw the rookie grinning at his phone. “Seriously? You’re sexting in the middle of an op?”
Ash blanched. “I’m not sexting. I’m messaging Cate back.”
“You guys are getting pretty close, huh?”
“She’s a sweet kid,” Ash said defensively. “We’re friends.”
“Yeah, well, make sure it stays that way. You know Morgan will castrate you if you touch his daughter.”
“I don’t think of her that way,” Ash insisted. “She’s a teenager, for fuck’s sake.”
Liam flicked the left-turn signal to change lanes, then glanced over. “So what’s Cate saying? Is Morgan still pissed that we left?”
“She says he’s been sulking, which translates to him swearing up a storm. And she says she’s worried about us.”
“
Us?
Yeah, right. She’s worried about you.”
“Well, she worries too damn much.” Ash let out a glum sigh. “Did you know she started calling me
Rookie
? You assholes have officially gotten a teenage girl to harass me.”
“Dude, Ethan had to deal with it for years,” Liam said with a snicker, referring to Ethan Hayes, who’d been the youngest member of the team before Ash had joined. “Just wait until Morgan recruits a new fresh-faced marine, and then you’ll be off the hook.”
“I’d better be,” Ash muttered.
Liam reached a roundabout, a road device that was probably his favorite thing about Ireland, and took the second exit, smoothly steering the sedan through traffic. Man, Americans and their bumper-to-bumper traffic could take a lesson from the Irish—those roundabouts saved a shitload of time.
Ash consulted the GPS. “Turn right. Sean’s place should be on the next street.”
Liam glanced in the rearview mirror to make sure D and Sully were still on his tail, then hit the signal and took a right. The other black sedan followed suit.
Sean’s safe house turned out to be a low-rise brick building, nondescript and slightly run-down. Liam hadn’t expected anything fancy, though—Sean and Oliver Reilly made a living by staying off the radar.
Bailey had called earlier to fill them in about Flannery’s late-night visit and the demands he’d made of Sean, so Liam kept a careful watch as they approached the building. After a quick perimeter sweep, which revealed Flannery hadn’t posted any goons to watch the place, the team entered through the back stairwell as Bailey had instructed.
Liam climbed the steps with Sullivan at his six. The nape of his neck tingled at his teammate’s nearness, but he shoved away the weird sensation.
When they reached Sean’s loft, they found a small gaping hole where the doorknob should have been. Wooden splinters and little chunks of metal littered the floor, making Liam grin. Bailey had warned them about
that, too, and he hadn’t been surprised to hear that she’d shot up Sean’s door. Although the woman was calm under pressure, she was also stubborn as hell, and Liam had seen hints of her fiery temper beneath her professional surface. Bailey’s fire was one of the things he liked about her, though. That, and the fact that he could tell her things he didn’t dare tell anyone else. He was friendly with Abby and Noelle’s other women, but he wasn’t close to them, not the way he was with Bailey.
Palming his weapon, Liam entered first, but there was no danger lurking inside the loft. Only hostility.
“I’m not fucking doing that,” Sean was grumbling. “You’re under the impression that this is a covert op, but it’s not. It’s the same low-rent bullshit I grew up with.”
“He won’t believe it unless it looks realistic,” Bailey shot back.
“I’m. Not. Doing. It.”
Well. Looked like nothing had changed between them since they’d last met. Liam had never seen two people argue more than Sean and Bailey. Morgan and Noelle maybe, but those two had become much less hostile after tying the knot.
Then again, Liam couldn’t exactly blame Bailey for being pissed at Reilly. Back in Paris, she’d confessed that Sean had pretended to be Oliver in order to screw her. Which, in Liam’s humble opinion, was a total dick move.
“Are we interrupting?” he said dryly.
Without so much as a hello, Sean looked over with a hard glare. “Yes.”
Bailey, on the other hand, bolted off the couch and sprinted to Liam. “Hey! I’m so happy to see you.”
She threw her arms around him and he hugged her back, ignoring the flare of anger that lit Sean’s eyes. Screw that. Bailey was his friend, and he’d genuinely missed her.
“Happy to see you too, darling.” He kissed the top of her head, Sean be damned. The guy would just have to deal.
“I told her I didn’t need your help,” Sean muttered as he stood up.
“Is that really how you’re going to greet us?” Sullivan demanded. “We’re here to save your ass, mate—you ought to be rolling out a bloody welcome mat.” His gray eyes flickered with resentment. “A little birdie told me you left the team in the lurch.”
“He did,” D confirmed without an ounce of warmth in his tone. Not that he was warm to begin with, but today there was an edge of aggression that surprised Liam. D didn’t usually broadcast his feelings either, but his harsh gaze made it clear that he was pissed at Reilly and not in the mood to hide it.
Truth was, after two years of working for Morgan, Liam still had no idea who D was or what made him tick. All he knew was that the tattoo-covered merc had once worked for a mysterious black ops agency, and Liam wasn’t sure he needed any more details than that. D was scary as hell, which meant his background was probably equally terrifying.
“If you’re waiting for an apology, don’t bother.” Sean met D’s cold gaze head-on. “Ollie was in trouble.”
“You should’ve told Morgan,” Liam hedged. “You know he would’ve helped.”
“I take care of my own problems. I didn’t want to drag anyone else into it.” Sean’s green eyes flickered with displeasure as he focused on Liam’s hand, which was resting lightly on Bailey’s shoulder.
Since the man was already on edge about his brother, Liam gave Bailey’s arm a soft squeeze before releasing her, and Sean’s rigid shoulders instantly relaxed.
“Forget about him,” Bailey told the men. “
I’m
happy you’re here. I appreciate the backup.”
Sean growled in frustration. “We won’t need backup. You fellas wasted a trip.”
Sullivan shrugged. “We’ll be the judge of that.” He moved deeper into the loft, glancing around. “Nice digs, Irish. Very . . . barren.”
“I don’t spend much time here,” Sean said tightly.
It was obvious he wasn’t the slightest bit thrilled about their presence. Wasn’t very hospitable either. He didn’t offer them a drink or ask about the flight. He simply crossed his arms in a pose of pure belligerence, as if daring them to stay.
Nobody made a move to go.
“So what’s the sitrep?” Ash asked awkwardly.
When Sean didn’t answer, Bailey fielded the question. “Eamon O’Hare got back to us about ten minutes ago. He wants the exchange to happen at his pub. Sean hands over the flash drive, Rabbit hands over Ollie.”
Suspicion creased Liam’s forehead. “You think it’ll be that easy?”
“Rabbit’s a man of his word,” Sean answered, arms still folded over his chest. “He never reneges on a deal.”
“Fine, let’s assume it all goes smoothly,” Liam said. “What then?”
“Then I deal with Flannery.” Sean didn’t offer any more details.
“How?” Sullivan sounded as annoyed as everyone looked.
“Not sure yet.” With a shrug, Sean strode to the couch and sat down.
Liam could tell that his insolent attitude was bugging the shit out of Bailey. Hell, it bugged him, too. The Reilly brothers were secretive as hell, and of the two of them, Sean was the one with the reputation for winging it most
of the time. For someone like Bailey, a woman who painstakingly planned out her missions, Sean’s lack of care and preparation probably made her want to tear her hair out.
“Look,” Sean sighed when he saw everyone scowling at him, “my only priority right now is making sure my brother’s okay. After that, I’ll find a way to remove myself from this Flannery bullshit.”
A derisive noise rumbled from Bailey’s mouth. “Flannery admitted to having a mole in Rabbit’s group. We have to assume he’ll be there when we show up tonight.”
“We?” Liam asked.
She spared him a cursory look. “I’m going too.”
“Okay.”
Sean cursed loudly, his head swinging toward Liam. “Okay?” he echoed in disbelief. “You could at least try to talk her out of it, Boston.”
“Why would I? You might be too pigheaded to admit it, but you’ll need backup. And you can’t do any better than her.”
Bailey’s look of gratitude was overshadowed by Sean’s thunderous one. His eyes narrowed as he glanced from Liam to Bailey, but then he shook his head without comment.
“Anyway,” Bailey continued, “if the mole
is
there, he’ll be expecting you to follow through on Flannery’s request. You’ll need to tell Rabbit you want back in.”
“I know that,” he said grimly.
“You really think your old boss will believe you suddenly want to be his soldier again?” Sullivan looked skeptical as he flopped down on the other end of the couch.
After a beat, Ash moved to the armchair and took a load off, too, but Liam and D remained standing.
“That’s what we were arguing about before you
showed up,” Bailey explained. “I know exactly what we need to do to convince Rabbit that Sean is serious about returning to the Irish Dagger.”
Sullivan’s skepticism gave way to curiosity. “Yeah? What?”
“She wants me to
hit
her!” Sean roared.
The Irishman shot to his feet again and bulldozed his way to the kitchen. He snatched a fifth of Jameson off the counter and slugged the alcohol right from the bottle.
Liam and Sullivan exchanged an amused look before turning to Bailey. “How is that going to help?” Liam asked with a grin.
“Rabbit’s known Sean and Ollie since they were kids, which means he knows they’re protective of each other—
and
the people they care about.” She flashed Sean an irritated look. “If Sean wants to rejoin the crew, he needs to give a reason that Rabbit will buy.” She shrugged. “He needs to tell him about Flannery’s visit.”
Liam raised a brow. “And admit to being threatened into doing Flannery’s bidding?”
“No, just admit to being threatened.” She continued speaking as if Sean wasn’t in the room, though from the guy’s surly expression, it was clear he’d already heard this. “Sean tells Rabbit that Flannery tracked us down and tried to get the flash drive back. We managed to get away, but not before Flannery’s men roughed me up.”
D’s gravelly voice rejoined the mix. “Smart.”
“Smart? Jesus Christ, you people are bloody crazy,” Sean snapped. He took another long swig of whiskey before slamming the bottle down. “Nobody’s laying a hand on you, Bailey.”
She ignored him completely as she outlined the rest of her plan. “I show up on Sean’s arm with a busted-up face, his sweet new girlfriend who was kicked around by
Flannery’s goons. Sean offers to help Rabbit take down Flannery in exchange for protection, and Rabbit believes it because he knows Sean would do anything to keep his girl safe. And voilà—Sean’s back in the group, Rabbit thinks Sean needs him, and the mole thinks Sean is playing ball for Flannery.”
Liam couldn’t deny it was a solid plan—aside from the fact that she hadn’t offered an endgame. “And then?”
“Then we go from there.” She scowled at Sean. “How long do you want to play Flannery’s game? Because the smart thing to do is skip town once we get Oliver.”
“I’m not running for the rest of my life,” he said darkly. “Wherever I go, Flannery will find me.”
“So you intend to do his bidding?” she shot back.
“Until I figure out another way to get rid of him? Yes.”
It was hard to ignore the growing tension between them. Or hell, not growing, since the tension had never gone away, never lowered in intensity. It was always there, crackling in the air the same way it had when Morgan and Noelle were in a room together, before they’d finally let go of their hatred and given in to their attraction.
Liam knew Bailey would never capitulate, though. She was secretive about her past, but whatever she’d gone through . . . it had definitely made her leery of reckless alpha men like Sean Reilly.
But that reckless alpha male had staked his claim on Bailey a long time ago, and it was no surprise when he yet again shot down her idea like a deadly sniper.