Max and Colin. The two fucks were working together. Well, it didn't matter. I had what I came for. In one of our bags, I had what I needed: proof that Colm was the thieving bastard I knew he was. At least, I hoped I did. That proof would spark another war, one that would destroy him and leave someone else in power.
Breaking into Colm's place, that was the easy part though.
We climbed into Leary's car and began driving. We didn't say anything as we went, but there was a general sense of elation rolling from Leary. We had done it, though neither of us had been sure that we could. Finally, Leary pulled over at a corner and nodded at me.
"Well, we're still alive."
"Yeah, we are."
"Good shit back there. I didn't think we could do it, but fuck, we just stole from Colm Brennan."
I laughed. "Yeah, Leary, we did."
"You owe me for this."
I grasped his arm and nodded, genuinely grateful. "I'll pay you back, I promise."
"Fine. Get out of here now, before I decide to rip you off."
I laughed again and grabbed his duffle. It was as heavy as my own. I climbed out of the car slowly, heaving the second bag over my back. I paused for a second, and then I pulled the one duffel open and tossed Leary the two big stacks of cash from Colm's safe. He grinned at me.
"See you, Leary."
"Stay safe, Liam."
I nodded and he drove off. I waited a minute or two until he was completely out of sight until I started my long trek back to the safe house, taking a circuitous path.
Hopefully, there was only one more suicide mission, and all of this could be over. Hopefully, the people that deserved my revenge would get it. I pictured that as I trudged along, lugging the two duffle bags on my back.
The real work could begin.
Chapter Twenty: Ellie
It was late and I was exhausted, but it wasn't like I was going to get a wink of sleep, not with Liam out there breaking into the office of the most dangerous guy in the city.
I sifted through the pages spread around me in the living room again idly, though I don't expect to find anything new. I'd been through them top to bottom maybe a hundred times, and I had them practically memorized. Unsurprisingly, nothing new jumped out at me, although the signs were all still there: small money moving around to various offshore accounts, all very shady and weird. I wasn't sure what to make of it, but Liam insisted that it suggested Colm was stealing from the old boss.
Frustrated, I tossed the papers across the room and flopped onto my back. I knew I wasn't really mad at the papers; really, I was worried as hell about Liam. He had been gone for a few hours, and it was almost dawn. I could practically feel the sun starting to peek over the horizon. He should have been back, or at least he should have called. Actually scratch that; I didn't have a phone.
I groaned. I wished more than anything that I could be out there with him, even if I was just off to one side keeping watch. I couldn't remember the last time I had been stuck in one place for so long. I itched for something. Really, I itched for him, for his cocky smile and his muscular body, for the depth underneath his stupid jokes and tough-guy act. Over the long days of living with him, I had discovered something I didn't expect. The worry churning up my gut meant something, and I knew that I should figure out exactly what, but I was afraid.
There was a scratch at the door, and the knob turned, and instead of the usual fear I felt every moment since it all started, relief flooded through my system. When he pushed open the door and stepped into the room, two huge black duffle bags slung over his back, sweat dripping down his brow, I didn't hesitate. As he dropped the bags on the floor and locked the door, I threw my arms around him, pressing myself against his broad, strong back.
"Hey-" he said, but I squeezed him and he shut up.
I breathed his smell in deeply, savoring the sweat and the feel of him. He was so solid, the most solid thing I had ever felt in my entire life, and I couldn't imagine him leaving me. I couldn't imagine him disappearing.
"It's okay," he said softly.
I pulled away, feeling a little embarrassed. "I know it is. I'm just glad you're back."
He turned and grinned. "Missed me?"
I rolled my eyes and gestured toward the bags. "Is that it?"
His eyes lit up and he nodded. "Everything from his office."
"And you didn't get caught?"
He laughed. "I'd be dead if I did."
"You're incredible."
"I know."
I walked over to the first bag and dragged it into the middle of the living room, clearing out the old papers. I upturned the bag, letting the papers and binders and folders spill out like an avalanche, cascading all over the space. Even though each page meant hours of more work, I felt elated and excited. Finally, I was going to be able to help out. I was going to have a job to do.
"Easy there," he said.
"This is my domain," I replied, dropping to my knees and starting to sift through everything.
"Your domain?"
I nodded, not really paying any attention to him. "Yeah. This is my thing. I'm going to find what you need."
"You don't have to do that."
I glanced up at him. "You don't have to keep protecting me. We're in this together."
I couldn't read his face for a second. After a moment, though, he smiled softly and yawned. "Fine. I'm not arguing. You hungry?"
I nodded again, not really paying attention. He said something else, but I was completely immersed in my task, moving the pages around and skimming through their contents. He grumbled and stepped past me, going into the kitchen. I heard him banging around, and the smell of cooking eggs and coffee wafted through the house. My stomach growled, but I refused to be distracted. I still had hundreds of pages to go through, and I was keenly aware that every second counted.
I had no clue how long I spaced out for. After a little while, skimming a document and finding a place for it become automatic. I was beyond exhausted, both physically and mentally, but I didn't think that anything could have pulled me away from that task, not at that moment at least. My hands moved, one page after another, words and phrases and numbers waving and mixing in my vision, pages dropping into piles. I was a computer, I realized. I was a process. I was the conduit between chaos and organization, and that organization could easily save our lives. One missed number, one missed line, and we were done for. Picking locks and breaking skulls, that was important. But sifting data through the vast mounds of paper and constant streams of numbers and letters was equally essential.
And more than anything, I knew that everything meant something. It wasn't just a bunch of random words and symbols amounting to nothing. It was a vital force in our lives, it was a record of the past, an actual, tangible proof of things that came before. In my hands I held the secrets to the mysteries of things that were long gone, lost in the sea of time. With enough data, I thought to myself, I could prove that anything happened, pin down exactly where each moment started, the genesis of every thought and feeling.
"Ellie?" Liam's voice cut through my thoughts.
I looked up, startled. He was standing above me, looking concerned.
"What's going on? Is everything okay?" I asked, my pulse racing.
"Everything's fine. I've been calling your name for, like, five minutes."
I felt heat rise in my face and embarrassment overtook me. I realized I had been completely ignoring him, so lost in my task that everything else around me had disappeared.
"Sorry," I muttered.
"Come on, eat something, then you can get back to work."
I sighed. I didn't want to stop, not while I was in the groove, but I was probably a little delirious from lack of sleep. Plus, my stomach was grumbling. Reluctantly, I stood up and padded after him as he walked into the kitchen.
He gestured at the table and I sat down in front of his trademark eggs and toast. It smelled amazing and tasted even better, probably the best he'd ever done. He put a mug of coffee in front of me that I sipped gratefully as he sat down and tucked into his own meal.
We shoveled our food down in silence like that, though it was a comfortable silence. Finally, he leaned back in his chair and looked at me appraisingly, sipping his coffee. The sun was rising through the kitchen windows, filling the room with a weak gold and red light.
"How are you holding up?" he asked.
I shrugged. "I'm fine. Ready to get back to work."
"You should sleep first."
"I'll sleep when I'm done sorting."
He nodded and didn't argue.
"What's next?" I asked him after a beat.
"Next, we go through all that shit, and eventually I approach de Barra, hopefully with some real solid leads."
I nodded. "You think he'll help?"
"I honestly have no clue."
We lapsed into silence again. Finally, Liam stood up and stretched.
"Well, I'm going to sleep."
He walked across the kitchen and I watched his body move, so sure of himself and smooth. As he passed by me, something gripped my chest, some unexplainable urge, and I reached out and grabbed his arm. He looked down at me, surprised, and I stared back at him, my mouth hanging open.
"Liam, I-"
Before I could say what was bubbling up through me, he reached down and wrapped his arms around my shoulders and pressed his lips against mine. I dug my fingers into his back and returned his kissed with a hunger I hadn't realized was there. I could taste him, plus his sweat and his coffee, and I loved every second of it as a shiver ran through my chest and my spine. I felt him run his fingers through my hair.