Midnight Escape (Agents of HIS Romantic Suspense Series Book 2) Page 6

  Jumping up in fright, she screeched, “What are you doing?”

  The look he gave her made her feel as if she’d asked a ridiculous question. “Trashing the place.”

  No. This was her brother’s home. Her childhood home. He couldn’t do this. Angry, she stepped forward.

  “Stop, Moira. If I’m going to make it look like the three of you died, let me do this.”

  That stopped her in her tracks. He had said “look like.” While it settled her somewhat, a sense of foreboding welled inside her gut.

  A switch flicked in her boggled mind. What about her stuff? All her art and supplies. “Wait!” she nearly screamed. Not to stop him, but to get his full attention. This couldn’t happen at her home. “What about my flat? I have a ton of money invested in my studio. I don’t want you to destroy it.”

  “No time.”

  “Justin, I have commissions that are complete or in process, not to mention a small fortune in supplies.” Plus, she’d been working on a few special pieces to show a friend of a friend’s boyfriend who managed a gallery. If only she could have her own showing. It’d seemed so close. Plus, she could use the cash from the sales.

  Looking away, a muscle in Justin’s jaw ticked. “I’ll have someone pack what they can before Boyle checks. Make me a list with locations of the items.”

  She skipped right after his assuredness of Boyle checking. “I can have Cassie and Quinn pack it for when I return. She can deliver the finished ones and can collect the outstanding payments for me.”

  “No.” His quick, forceful response startled her. He softened before giving her a small smile. “No. No one can know you’re leaving. Once I’m done, it’ll appear the three of you fled, then died along the way. There’s no coming back, Moira. I thought we agreed on that.”

  Moira swallowed hard. They hadn’t said she’d never return. Had they? His words sounded so… final. “Okay,” she managed to say, her mind processing everything, and it finally all clicked. Truthfully, she felt a bit of an idiot for not cycling through it faster. “So, you’re not going to kill us like your boss wants,” she said with still a bit of hope in her voice, although she’d resolved that in her mind.

  “Of course not.” Justin’s incredulous response bolstered her confidence.

  “And,” her voice rose with the word, “you’re saying that I can never—ever—come back to Dublin. To my home. Because you’re going to pretend to kill me”—she looked toward the office door where Diana had joined Declan. Pointing to the couple, she finished— “and them.” Nodding, as if to answer her own unasked question, she pressed forward. “Why do I have to die? Can’t I just move away and come back after a long time?”

  Declan returned. “Moira. Quit fighting. You’ll leave if I have to tie you up and carry you to the plane.” Her brother’s firm tone had her spine snapping with tiny explosions of anger. “We can talk more when we travel.”

  Knowing it’d be fruitless to argue, she acquiesced and did as Justin and Declan instructed. She allowed every bit of anger, frustration, and fear to build up inside her. Hopefully she wouldn’t blow up on the flight and decompress the air pressure.

  Within three hours of Moira overhearing the threat, they’d left Declan’s home for possibly the last time, passed through private airport security—with the fake passports her brother had asked about—and boarded a Gulfstream.

  Fingering the passport she’d been handed before boarding, Moira examined it closer. It was her passport picture. She guessed she could’ve shared it with Declan at some point. And, he had allowed her to keep Moira as her name. Now though, instead of Aiofe Moira Gallagher, she was Moira Lee Wright. With a roll of her eyes, she murmured, “Morally right.”

  “You’ve been planning this for a while,” she said to her brother, who sat on an ivory-colored sofa, as Diana slept with her head across his lap.

  It’d taken a while for Declan to calm Diana enough to get her to rest for the sake of the baby. Understandably, the woman’s emotions were shattered. With the length Diana’s father would go to so she didn’t marry Declan—murder—Moira wondered what Diana’s childhood had been like. She’d always seemed so happy and put together.

  Declan’s hand didn’t stop softly stroking Diana’s blonde hair, but he looked up from the woman he loved. “We have. I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.”

  The sharp pain in her heart from his betrayal pressed on her chest. She couldn’t speak. He didn’t owe her any explanations for keeping his and Diana’s relationship secret, but the rest…. He owed her big time. He’d had a fake passport made for her!

  “Originally, Diana and I were just going to slip away. We knew her father wouldn’t allow a garda, a policeman, into the family. I’d never go on the take and would end up putting him away.” He shrugged. “It’d just never work.”

  “You were going to leave me,” she accused, “alone.” Vulnerable. Nay, she wouldn’t allow him to make her feel that way. “Yet, you had a passport for me. Why? Were you planning to tie me up and carry me away no matter what?” Tossing his words back at him hadn’t made her feel better.

  Declan heaved a sigh, then admitted, “Justin suggested it.”

  “Did he now?” She didn’t know whether she wanted to slap or hug Justin for taking care of her family. For ensuring her brother and Diana would have a chance at a life away from Boyle. There just seemed to be some high-handedness, but Justin was smooth.

  Her brother shook his head, sadness seemed to overwhelm his features. “Based on all I know about Boyle, you wouldn’t have been safe.”

  “Yet you didn’t care that it’d put us all in danger when you decided to jump into Diana’s bed,” she snapped, then immediately felt contrite. That’d been uncalled for. As far as she knew, her brother didn’t jump in and out of bed without thought. “Do you really love her or is it the baby? Is it all worth it?” Maybe she shouldn’t ask him while Diana was there, as his answer could be fake—like their new identification—in case she was awake.

  “I do love her. The baby just makes it all better.”

  Love sparkled in Declan’s light green eyes with vivid blue-colored shards at the edges. Green eyes just like hers and their mother’s. Yet when she really searched them, fear lurked there. Probably fear for her, Diana, and their unborn baby. He always did take on the role of protector for all.

  What would happen to him and Diana now? Based on all she’d heard listening to him and Justin—and reading between the lines—the two would never be able to live openly without risk of being found by Boyle, who was, apparently, relentless in his vengeance. And for Diana, falling in love with a law officer was a betrayal her father would never allow to go unanswered. Spawn or not.

  Exhaustion weighed on her. Her life had been turned upside down. She couldn’t be mad at him for wanting to protect her by having documents ready in case they had to escape quickly. Especially since they had. If only he’d discussed it with her before today, it’d be an easier pill to swallow.

  As if realizing how empty and alone she felt, Declan deftly maneuvered from under Diana, without waking her, and sat beside Moira on the small love seat she occupied.

  “Can’t we ever go home?” She’d asked this already and didn’t expect a different answer, but the words fled her mouth. While she enjoyed independence, she didn’t relish trying to start over somewhere new. Surely, she’d be able to go back to somewhere in Ireland at some point.

  After he put his arm around her and she leaned her head on his shoulder. Safety, security, and love. Always how she felt with her big brother. “Nay, my deirfiúr. Not as long as Boyle lives.” His resigned voice broke her heart.

  Holding onto his shirt and tucking her head closer into his shoulder, she let him know, “I don’t want to do this without you.”

  “You won’t.” He kissed the top of her head with such gentleness she wanted to cry. “Don’t worry. We w
on’t be alone. Danny, Justin’s brother, will help us get settled and secure. Remember him?”

  Yes, she remembered him. Although she remembered how handsome he looked the last time he’d visited. For her brother’s benefit—so he didn’t know she’d had a thing for Danny—she scrunched up her nose. “You mean the gangly kid?” That’d help Declan not realize she’d always had a crush on Danny. It’d started the first time he’d given her attention. It later grew from a child’s crush to a teenager’s lovesickness. She liked the idea of him, but she didn’t know him and doubted that her crush had grown into anything more. They were adults now.

  The rumble of laughter from Declan’s chest made her want to laugh. She couldn’t help the smile.

  “He’ll surprise you. I know you’re mad about all this, but listen to me and listen well. Danny works in security and protection, so you listen to him. I don’t want Boyle to find any of us.”

  Finally lifting her head, she settled back into the seat, although not having strong arms around her did feel lonely—even if they’d been her brother’s and not a lover’s. “Surely we’ll be safe there using the fake identities?” While she wondered if Justin overreacted, she also knew to trust him. “Boyle doesn’t know we’ve left Ireland.”

  He nodded. “I think we will be, but that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t keep that threat at the forefront in your mind. If Justin does it right, no one will even look for us. The IDs”—he looked at her sheepishly— “again, I’m sorry. Anyhow, it’ll take work to find us.”

  “How do you think Justin will fake kill us?” A tingle of fear slid up her spine at those words.

  “I think I might find a drop-off and push your car over it,” a sexy, male voice whispered near her ear. She hadn’t noticed Justin come close. Then again, she’d always found his ability to sneak up on her scary. She’d been six the first time he’d frightened her doing that when she’d been sneaking a cookie in the kitchen after she’d been told no by the cook.

  Dropping her hand from where she’d been rubbing her necklace without realizing it, almost as if guilty for touching it, she looked at him and smiled. “Sorry.” Then shaking her head, she said firmly, “Won’t they know I’m not in it?”

  Justin continued around her seat to stand near them. “My hope is an unclaimed body is released around that time, so I can put her in the vehicle. If not, I’ll find a way to make it appear like you’ve died.” He shrugged as if talking about killing people was nothing more than a bother in the conversation. “Don’t worry. I’ll take care of it.”

  She ignored the whole corpse stealing thing because she didn’t want to touch that and find out Justin was into some crazy things. “Why are you even going back? Won’t he know you helped us? I mean, you’re disappearing at the same time we do.”

  “Excuse me,” Declan said, then stood. “I’ll be right back.”

  After he headed to the loo—even a private plane had a tiny toilet—Justin slid in beside her and turned to face her. He reached up and, with two fingers under her chin, gazed into her eyes. “I’d go the ends of the earth for you, Moira. I will do anything I can to keep you safe.”

  With a gulp of apprehension at his words, she witnessed desire flaming within them. Where had that come from? He’d never looked at her like he wanted her. Okay, maybe he had and, had once, entertained it, but lately, she hadn’t paid his looks much attention. She couldn’t deal with this now.

  “If I’ll be technically dead—” That brought another gulp. This time with nervousness. “—then why do I have to leave Ireland? Can’t I just move to another town far away?” She’d never been outside her country and didn’t wish to do it now. Traveling within Ireland appealed to her, but not imeacht thar sáile. She’d never been abroad.

  Justin pulled back and chuckled. He shook his head. “No arguments, you’ll go.” Clasping her hand, he squeezed but didn’t let it go. He held it like they were lovers and she didn’t let go either. His strength comforted her.

  “How will it work? I’ll be a third wheel with my brother and Diana.”

  “Hmm.” Grimacing, he said, “You could live with Danny.”

  Shocked at the suggestion he’d pawn her off on his baby brother, she pulled her hand from his and gasped. “I’m not living with a man I don’t know.”

  “You know Danny.”

  She narrowed her gaze at the guarded tone in his voice. Why didn’t he seem comfortable with that? With her staying with his brother? Was he jealous? Moira appraised him with the same eye she had after seeing him again after so long away. The man was sex personified. He’d always been the more traditionally handsome one of the brothers. Though, she’d always appreciated Danny’s more subtle ruggedness. It probably had more to do with Justin’s attention to her.

  Fighting the urge to run her hands through Justin’s short, dark blond hair, she reached up and ran a hand through her auburn locks instead. Grasping the hair tie on her wrist, she pulled the annoyingly straight hair back in a ponytail that extended to mid-shoulder. What she wouldn’t give for some natural wave. At least it didn’t have as much red in it as her brother’s did. He personified the traditional Irish look of flaming red hair and green eyes.

  “Declan made all the arrangements.”

  That surprised her. Somehow, she assumed Justin had been in control of this relocation. “Not you?”

  “No.” His jaw remained clenched, and she’d barely understood the words. “I don’t think he trusted me in the beginning.”

  She’d noticed that rift between them. Thankfully, they’d reached a truce so Justin was helping them escape instead of actually killing them. Her mind spun again as to whether he actually would’ve done it. She’d seen him fight. He’d practically killed a man who’d grabbed Diana when under his watch. And, she’d overheard things that she probably shouldn’t have that made her shudder. Aye, she believed he had a vicious streak in him.

  Keeping her focus back on their plight, she shifted. “I’m worried about how I’ll live, financially. I have some money saved, but I’m an ealaíontóir. I have a name that was building steam. I’m not comfortable using that fake passport to get a job. I don’t want to get arrested.”

  “Just stay low-key. You can still be an artist. You’ll just need to choose another name to sign your artwork. Declan has a checking account set up for you.”

  Her spine straightened. What? More preparation without her knowledge.

  “Catch yourself on,” her brother said as he approached.

  What did he mean telling her not to be ridiculous? She had valid concerns.

  “It’s from the money our parents left us. You’ll receive your share when you turn thirty, but I think given the circumstances, they wouldn’t mind if I fronted some of it now.”

  Diana’s cry of pain broke through the air as she woke. “Declan,” she cried. “The baby.” She doubled-up into the fetal position with her arms protecting her stomach. “Something’s wrong.”

  In an instant, her brother was on his knees in front of Diana. “What is it?” His panicked voice evoked fear in Moira. Diana couldn’t have problems with the baby. They were in the air. Over an ocean.

  “Oohhh.” The pain-filled moan brought over the male flight attendant, who’d been quietly reading a book as far from them as possible in the small cabin.

  When Moira had questioned speaking with the man in the area, Justin had waved her off. “First, he’s trained to ignore what is said or to keep quiet what he has heard. Second, he’s a friend of mine, so he won’t breathe a word.”

  With all the talk of Boyle finding them—and possibly torturing her to get to Diana—she didn’t want to trust anyone.

  The flight attendant, Stu, furrowed his brow while watching Diana. “Justin?”

  Instead of responding to Stu, Justin directed his comment to her brother. “Declan, Stu has some medical training. Let him see her.” Then he
turned to Moira and extended his hand. “Let’s give them some room.”

  Naw. She didn’t want to leave. Her brother looked wretched, like he had when they’d lost their parents. Family stood with family.

  Her hesitation must’ve resonated with her brother. He looked at her and nodded toward Justin. “Go on. I’m sure it’s fine.” Then his attention returned to Diana and her whimpering.

  Moira allowed herself to be led away by Justin, although she kept her gaze on her brother. Nothing could happen to the baby. Not after what Declan and Diana had gone through to be together.

  Turning on Justin, she whispered, “Why are you doing this?”

  ‘This’ was generic for many things, but Justin picked up on her overall meaning. He cleared his throat. “Your family is like a second family to me. If it’s in my power, I’ll never allow danger to darken your doorsteps.”

  Narrowing her eyes in scrutiny, she asked, “Are you sure you’re not undercover for the DEA or something to bust Boyle?”

  “You won’t let that go, will you?” He shook his head at a question she’d asked more than once, since he’d admitted working for the drug kingpin. “You know that I no longer work for the DEA.”

  “But, he’s bad.” Like he didn’t already know that. But Moira hoped he’d find now was the time to leave. He could stay with Danny and get a legit job back in the States.

  “Don’t confuse my good deed here with who I am.” He looked down at her. “If this hadn’t been the three of you, there’d have been no escape.”

  Not sure what else to say, she gulped then smiled. “Thank you for helping us, Justin.”

  He touched her cheek and she leaned into his touch. Justin was the only man she knew who she thought might be a killer one moment and the best man ever the next, yet her caring for him never changed. “Moira, don’t do anything stupid that could get yourself killed like being plastered in the papers or becoming an internet sensation. One more time, I’m telling you to listen to Danny, even if you don’t like what he says or does.”