“Or someone’s watching her because he’s a paranoid freak and he’s using her.” She wasn’t involved. He knew it deep down. He also knew it was stupid. He shouldn’t make judgments like that this early in the game. Hell, he shouldn’t make judgments at all. Her guilt or innocence didn’t really matter. Except it mattered to him. “I want to know who’s watching her.”
The idea that someone had eyes on her brought a slow roll of anger into his gut.
Adam grinned at his partner. “I told you he wasn’t as dumb as you.”
Jake’s eyes rolled. “Let’s not bring that up again. And dear god, don’t mention it to Serena. Every time an innocent woman gets wrongly accused I have to sleep on the sofa for a night or two.” Jake turned to Liam. “Seriously, Li, if you have a thing for this girl, don’t ever let her know if you had a single doubt in your head. Let her think you were always just here to protect her. It goes very wrong if you very gently ask her if she might be involved in something criminal.”
Adam gaped, his mouth dropping open. “Are you insane? You gently asked her? I was there, asshole.”
And Liam didn’t have time for their damage. “I’m not going to let Avery tether my balls to her handbag the way you two let Serena boss you around. She’s just a nice girl, and I don’t want her to come to harm because she got caught up in a bad situation.”
Adam and Jake exchanged a long look. They had a silent conversation. Liam often envied them their weird connection. He’d never had that. Not even with his brother. His relationship with his brother had been strained at times. He’d always had to try to rein in Rory’s anger and his more violent tendencies.
“Okay, you know what you want,” Jake said evenly. “So now we have to assume that her whole place might be bugged. You have to be careful when you’re in there. The apartment itself belongs to Thomas Molina. His brother bought it ten years ago. If he’s the one tracking her phone, he’s likely got the apartment bugged.”
He needed to move her to his place. It was the only way to make her safe. “I’ll get a place, and we’ll stay there.”
“Or you can stay where you are and use the fact that we know they’re watching. Look, Adam is going to make a copy of her keys, and we’re going to risk going in. You looked for cameras, right?” Jake held out a hand, silently requesting the keys Liam had in his. He had several small squares of easily pressed clay laid out on the table. The minute Liam handed him Avery’s keys, he started to work them into the clay, making impressions so they could duplicate them. To her apartment. Her office. Her boss’s office and his files.
While she’d been in the bedroom, he’d made a very thorough study of the flat, looking for cameras. Nothing. Avery kept the place immaculate. There weren’t knickknacks or anything in which to hide a camera, but the place could be wired for sound. Luckily, he hadn’t said a damn thing he shouldn’t. All the bastards could get was some dirty talk and a whole lot of moaning. “No cameras, but you should sweep for bugs so we know for sure. Did you pull up the maintenance records on the flat?”
He’d checked out the building himself, even before he’d approached Avery. It had good security. She had to swipe her key card to get in and out of the building. It was why it was so important to actually have Jake and Adam in the building. There was a concierge who watched everyone. He forced visitors to sign in and out. But would he think of Molina as a visitor since Molina actually owned the flat now that Brian was dead?
“There was an electrician by the name of Howard Pullman,” Adam explained. “He spent five hours in the place about a week before she moved in, so we should assume it’s bugged. The place came furnished. She just brought her clothes and laptop. She’s had two visitors. You and Simon Weston.”
Liam felt his gut go cold. Simon Weston. He’d been sniffing around her. Liam wasn’t dumb. He’d watched Simon follow her around. The man was interested, but Avery wasn’t. What had he been doing in her flat, the fucking blue blood? “Something about Weston doesn’t sit right. Has Ian’s guy come up with anything?”
“Damon Knight says he’s clean. Nothing on his records to make him look bad, but again, he’s practically royalty, so that can all be covered up. Being titled means something here,” Adam said.
He’d grown up around that shit. “You don’t have to tell me that. I know.”
Adam laughed a little. “Sorry. I so rarely hear your Irish come out I forget sometimes.”
But it had come out tonight. It had come out when he’d been balls deep in Avery because he hadn’t been able to think of anything but her.
“Now go downstairs and run out to Tesco and grab something to drink.” Jake handed him back Avery’s keys after very carefully cleaning them. “It’s a good excuse if she’s awake when you get back.”
She had mentioned she didn’t have any beer. He could grab a six-pack. He could drink a couple before he crawled back into bed with her. Maybe he wouldn’t scare the shit out of her with his nightmares.
“Okay. I’ll do that.” The Tesco was half a block down. Maybe a walk would do him good. Clear his head. He headed out. The faster he grabbed the six-pack, the faster he could get back to Avery. He was torn. He wanted to get away from her, but he also needed to protect her.
He nodded to the concierge. Avery had signed Liam in when they’d come back here earlier. Would he be able to get back in? “I’m just running to get some beer. Is that okay?”
The concierge nodded. “Go on then, mate. Ms. Charles signed you in as a person who could come and go for the night. She’s a very nice lady, and she seems to like you more than the other one.”
That had Liam turning. “Other one? Do you mean Weston?”
The big guy shrugged, one shoulder moving up and down. “He’s a prat, that one. Glad to see she found someone nice.”
Weston was becoming a problem. Liam pushed through the building’s outer doors and turned left, crossing the street. Liverpool station was humming. People poured out onto the street. It would be so easy to get lost, to join the crowd and disappear. He’d done it more than once. He stared out at the throng of humanity that made up London on a Saturday night.
They hustled. They bustled. They slept. They didn’t sit around wondering exactly who they were because they just fucking knew. They didn’t look a gift horse in the mouth. They took the gift with both hands.