“Thanks.”
Luna nodded at Ronan, then glanced at Vance. “Conlon.” He stepped back into the elevator and the doors closed.
Vance smiled at us. “Glad you’re both okay.”
“I’m glad you are too.” I wanted to hug him, but I also felt like I would be betraying Ronan if I did, so I refrained even though I owed Vance a lot. I knew Ronan was upset about the sparring, but Vance not only gave me an outlet when I needed one, he taught me to defend myself, and he brought Ronan back into my life.
“Thank you.” Vance glanced at Ronan. “You’re taking her back to London?”
Ronan nodded once, and my heart leapt.
Vance smiled. “I’m glad it’s working out for you two.”
Ronan still didn’t say anything.
“Are you coming back to London?” Vance had said he’d been there awhile when I first met up with him three months ago, but he’d been cagey on the details. I didn’t even know where he lived or if he even had a place of his own there.
Vance smiled noncommittally. “I have some business stateside.” He clapped Ronan on the shoulder. “Answer your phone every once in a while.” He turned toward the elevators and hit the call button, but then he looked back over his shoulder at his brother. “By the way, the police found Abernathy in the stairwell. As far as they’re concerned, he died from his own bomb.”
Ronan finally spoke up. “I shot him.”
The elevator doors opened, and Vance shoved his hands in his pockets. “That’s not what the ME’s report will say.” He stepped into the elevator, then turned and held his brother’s gaze until the doors slid shut.
Every muscle in Ronan’s body was strung tight as he stared at the closed elevator doors.
I put my hand on his arm and said what I should even though I thought Vance had done us all a favor. “If it’s what you wish, I’ll tell the police the truth.”
Ronan’s gaze, penetrating and cold, met mine.
My heart sank. I knew that look, and I knew what he was thinking. I wanted to beg him to leave it all alone and let the past be buried in that rubble, but I wouldn’t do that to him. If he wanted the truth to come out, I would stand by his side, no matter what.
Not shying away from the look in his eyes even though I wanted to, I kept my hand and gaze steady. “Whatever you wish,” I said again. “I stand with you.”
For two heartbeats, he said nothing.
Then his voice, quiet and deep, touched my heart. “Let’s go home.”
I wanted to shoot Vance.
He did me a favor, but I still wanted to shoot him. This would hang between us, and I didn’t want to owe him a damn thing. Not to mention, I didn’t trust what he’d said. I wasn’t worried about Harm, Luna, Trefor or Sanaa saying anything, but I was worried about all the first responders on scene. Covering up a fatal gunshot wound involved more than paying off a few cops.
Walking Sanaa to one of the company SUVs, I opened the door for her.
She glanced expectantly at me.
I didn’t say anything.
She got in and I pulled her seat belt out before clicking it into place like I used to when we were younger.
“Thank you,” she quietly murmured, searching my face.
“You’re welcome.” I closed her door and dumped her things in the back, but then I pulled my phone out and dialed before I opened the driver door.
Luna answered on the first ring. “Problem?”
Yeah. “You’re on board with Vance covering up Abernathy’s COD?”
“Hold.” I heard a door open and close, then Luna spoke again. “It wasn’t only him.”
Goddamn it. “When were you going to tell me?”
“Vance said he would tell you.”
I tried to rein it in, because I respected Luna, but I didn’t like being handled. “This wasn’t either of your call. He was holding her hostage, and I took the shot. It was clean.”
Luna was silent a moment, then he sighed. “You want me to hold your dick or tell you the truth?”
My jaw clenched, my hand about to crush the phone, I didn’t reply.
“All right.” Luna took my silence as consent. “Here’s the deal. This whole op was FUBAR from the get-go. Your history with it only added to the mess, but you weren’t the only one who made mistakes. With the exception of the damage to the hotel, this situation couldn’t have had a better outcome, and even I don’t give a fuck about the hotel when frankly, it provided the cover we needed to clean this whole thing up so we can all walk away. Abernathy and whoever his piece of shit assistant was ten years ago aren’t worth one of my men throwing himself on the sword for, let alone one of my brothers. You’re familia, hermano. I made a call. Vance made a call. It’s done. Walk away.”
“Am I supposed to thank you?”
“No,” Luna stated flatly. “Because you’re like me, and I’d be pissed too at being handled, not to mention not doing the honorable thing. But I’m telling you, in this case, it’s better off if none of this shit comes to light, including your past and your connection to Abernathy.”
I knew he was right, and it would only hurt Sanaa if it all came out.
Exhaling, I made the decision. “Fine, I’ll stick to the script.”
“Good choice. If the investigators call, tell them you don’t know what the fuck happened and leave it at that. And Ronan?”
“Yeah?”
“Take care of her.”
I glanced at the SUV. “Plan on it.”
“Copy that. See you when you get back from London.”
“I never told you I was escorting her back.” He’d assumed, correctly, but it’d still been an assumption.
Luna chuckled. “You didn’t have to.” He hung up.
Pocketing my phone, I opened the driver door and got behind the wheel. I only spared her a glance, because if I let my gaze linger, my mouth would be on hers.
“Is everything all right?” she asked in a quiet voice that told me she was worried both for me and about the situation.
I turned the engine over, but then I cupped the side of her face. “We’re sticking to the script. Abernathy died from his own bomb. You didn’t see him. I didn’t see him. You were in the suite while I helped Harm, and you didn’t leave until I took you to the elevator shaft.”
Her fingers covered my wrist, and she gave me a slight smile. “Thank you.”
“For?”
She inhaled deep, and her eyes welled. “Being here.”
Two words and she fucking gutted me, because all of a sudden, I was looking at the last ten years.
“Don’t.” Her eyebrows drew together. “I know what you’re thinking.”
She couldn’t possibly. “I didn’t say anything.”
“Ronan,” she quietly chided. “We’re here now.”
But she may not want to be after I told her what I should’ve admitted days ago. “I saw you perform once.”
She blinked. “What?”
“Four years ago,” I added.
She pulled my hand away from her face, and I let her.
“At Madison Square Garden.” She’d admitted to me one night when she was only sixteen that it’d been a dream of hers to perform there. She’d said if you ever booked Madison Square Garden, then you knew you’d made it. When I’d heard she was playing there, I’d bought a ticket, gotten leave, and flown from Afghanistan to Germany to New York.