I thinkit’s safe to say I’m in deep shit.
Conor’s arms are crossed over his chest and he’s fixed me with such an intense look, I’m about to pee my pants. Which is awkward since I’m not wearing any pants — I’m still in my lacey little negligee, flashing entirely too much thigh and leaving very little to the imagination when it comes to the chest region.
Hello, ladies.
Thankfully, Conor seems too pissed to notice I’m practically naked. He’s glaring at me like I’ve just spoiled the final season ofGame of Thronesfor him.
“What the fuck is wrong with you, Hunt?”
“Like… overall? Or are you just referring to tonight’s mishap?”
He is not amused by my cutesy answer. “When were you planning to tell me your husband was in the house?”
My teeth sink into my lip. “Um… right now?”
“Uh huh. Not, say,ten minutes agowhen I heard the sound of voices and came upstairs to investigate, finding the door to the attic open wide and your ex spewing a whole lot of bullshit about winning you back?”
I gulp.
He was listening to all that?
“Tell me the truth — and keep in mind I’ll know if you lie to me.” His tone is severe, his jaw clenched tight. “Did you know he was staying here?”
“No!” I exclaim, offended he’d even ask that question. “Of course I didn’t know. Do you honestly think, after everything he’s done to me, I’dprotecthim? Give me a little credit, Gallagher.”
“I just find it hard to believe you didn’t notice him periodically coming or going, these past few weeks. On multiple occasions, he was living fifteen feet above your damn head.”
“Um, excuse me, but aren’tyouthe one highly trained in surveillance?” I counter. “Because last I checked, you didn’t seem to pick up on his presence either during your many, many hours spent watching this street.”
A muscle in his eye twitches and I know I’ve scored a point.
“Believe me, Paul is the last person on the planet I’d ever want in my house. Just the thought of him being here while I was sleeping…” I shiver. “It’s going to give me nightmares for months.”
“And yet, when he snuck down from the attic and woke you up tonight… you somehow thought it was a good idea to confront him on your own, despite me being a single goddamn shout away?” His tone is sharp enough to flay me where I stand.
I shift from one bare foot to the other, digging my toes into the carpet. “He caught me off guard, okay? And then…”
Conor’s brows lift.
“I thought he might be more receptive talking to me than he would be if you charged in here and pummeled him,” I say with a roll of my eyes. “Wasn’t the whole point of me staying here to draw him out? To find out what he took from Petrov that’s worth getting us all killed over?”
Conor grunts in lieu of a response.
Score two for the girl in the peach lace nightie.
My eyes drift through the entryway of my walk-in closet, where we’ve been talking in hushed whispers for the past few minutes, across the bedroom to the armchair in the corner. Paul is slumped over, wrists restrained behind his back, still whimpering like a baby. The handcuffs, courtesy of Conor, prevent him from wiping his broken nose. Two bloody trails streak down his chin and drip onto his white shirt.
He looks like a Halloween horror experiment gone wrong.
Wincing, I glance back at Conor. “Frankly, given the fact that your greeting consisted of an incapacitating blow to the face, I can’t say I’m all that sorry I waited to call you in here. He hasn’t said a word since you arrived.”
“He was about to put his hands on you.” Conor’s voice has gone scary again. “The fucker is lucky I left him with the ability to use his limbs.”
I gulp. It’s no idle threat — I have no doubt Conor would take true pleasure in beating Paul to a bloody pulp. “Be that as it may, I don’t think you can actuallythrottlethe truth out of someone, Gallagher.”
“Might be fun to try,” he mutters darkly.
“And here I thought FBI agents were supposed to be beacons of fidelity, bravery, and integrity.” My lips twist. “Or is that slogan similar to the Pirate’s Code — more of a loose guideline than a hard and fast set of rules?”