Page 81 of The Big Fix

Ronan nodded.

“I’ll contact my people when I get back to the hotel and make the arrangements.”

“Okay,” Ronan agreed and turned for the door.

I was on him fast, grabbing his bicep, spinning him around to face me. “Listen to me. I’m gonna leave, and you come clean with Sara right fuckin’ now.”

“No, Jared, I—”

“Yes,” I yelled, taking hold of both arms and shaking him hard. “She needs to know she and her child are in danger because you cheated on her. And if you don’t tell her the second I walk outta here, then I will when I get back here tomorrow.”

“He’s my son too,” he said raggedly, broken.

“I didn’t say he wasn’t, but you weren’t thinking of either of them when you fucked this girl and blew up your life.”

“You sonofa—”

“Fuck you,” I growled at him. “How dare you do this to her, and to your son. I can’t even look at— You tell her,” I insisted, taking hold of his throat. “She’s my friend too, and I will not keep something so vile from her. Do you understand me?”

He shoved me away, stepped back, and I could see it all over his face, how furious he was. But then, that quickly, it leached out of him. I saw him deflate right in front of me.

“You’re right. I will.”

“Swear to me.”

“I swear.”

“I will keep you all safe, but Sara has to know why.”

He nodded.

We left his office and went into the living room, where pie and coffee were waiting. Sara was sitting on the couch, and when she saw me, I got a warm smile.

“Everything all right? I thought I heard yelling in there.”

“Just giving your husband a little professional advice.”

“Are you not staying for coffee?”

“I can’t. I gotta get back. I have an early morning, but I’ll stop by tomorrow, same time as tonight. Okay?”

“Okay.” Her eyes narrowed, studying me.

I said my goodbyes and left, walking the short distance to the MTR station. As soon as I could breathe through my anger, I called Darius.

“What?” he asked when he picked up. “Are you coming to the bar or not?”

“Not. I’ve got a problem.”

Since he was actually the one with the contact at the embassy, I laid everything out for him. I needed him.

“He’s a traitor,” he said flatly when I was done. “He betrayed his oath.”

“I know.” It was killing me. One of my best friends was shamelessly corrupt. That he had been responsible for the death of an Irish policeman was eating a hole in my brain.

“We’ll fix it,” Darius told me. “But he’s finished.”

And I knew that.