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“I think there's a piece we're missing. And until we know what that piece is, I'm just trying to keep you out of sight and keep you safe.”
“So you're saying this whole thing has been about keeping me safe?”
He swallowed hard and lifted his gaze to meet mine. “Not at first. At first I just wanted my life back. I won’t take out the Syndicate in a way that makes them all go to jail. Otherwise, they're just going to replace everyone and nothing will change. I want the information that will topple them. Those people are responsible for my father being dead. For my uncle being dead.”
My eyes went wide. “What?”
He jumped off the counter, only to lean against it and cross his arms. “My father and uncle were also spies. They both died on deep-cover Syndicate jobs.”
My stomach pitched. “Oh shit. I'm sorry.” I always felt like sorry was such a useless platitude. There wasn't much comfort to be conveyed in it.
Mentally, I tried to scan through any clients that had been decommissioned for non-ethical behavior. Or think through anyone with shady practices, but I had nothing.
“I guess maybe Massimo is still doing some business with Travis. I don't really know, but they sort of formed a friendship. Up until this past weekend, Travis thought maybe I was being mean or something, giving him the cold shoulder."
A soft chime went off, and he hopped off the counter, coming back to my hair.
Gently, he rinsed out the conditioning mask, and the soft soothing strokes had my eyelids drooping again. He was so gentle with his fingers I didn't even notice any knots.
"Keep going,” he urged.
"There was one time though. I came home from work, and you know that feeling you get when it's like someone has been in your place? I just couldn't shake it. I came home and I could feel it, like someone had been in my house. I thought I was going crazy."
His hands stopped moving. "When was this?"
"I don't know, two months ago maybe?" I only remembered because Christopher had cancelled plans to suddenly go out of town for a lad’s trip.
"What did you do?"
"I went straight down and got Tommy, the doorman, to come and check it out, but there was no one there."
"And in the time you left to go get Tommy, he might have just left."
"Funny, now that you mention it, my towels were in the wrong place."
He frowned. "Towels?"
"In the guest bath. No one ever uses it. They're kitschy, you know? It's something I got from Las Vegas when I went on holiday with my sister. They just said Viva and London. It's silly, but they were out of order. They read London first, then Viva second."
“Damn it. He got to you long before I did. Look, obviously I’ve scared you and terrorized you. I want to trust you. And I need you to trust me.”
“That's unlikely to happen.”
Sighing, he leveled his gaze on me. “I know about your gran. The money you need to look after her. I need your help, and you look like you could use a hand yourself. I can help you.”
“What? You happen to have £50,000 lying about?”
He shrugged. “Do you want that in cash?”
I sputtered and sat up straighter, the bathwater shifting dangerously low. “You must be joking.”
“So you don't want cash?”
I was unsure of what to say. “That's too much money. I can't ask for that.”
“Why don't you let me decide what you can ask for. I know you can’t forgive me for what I've done, and I probably don't deserve forgiveness. But I can help you in exchange for a little help from you. In addition to you not running anymore, I need your help figuring out exactly what it is at Baines that Igno wants.”
It seemed so easy. If I said yes, if I agreed to help him, what would that mean? And could he be trusted to keep his promise? I had no reason to trust him. No reason to think that he could be trusted. But still, there was something about his eyes. The hint of honorability.
