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“Arias,” she filled in.

“Ms. Arias. Dorsey is under strict orders to take a vacation and be around friends and family to recuperate after his last assignment. If you know him at all, I’m guessing you know he’s got a head made of brick.”

Liv sent Finn a wry smile. “I’m aware.”

Finn sniffed as he rolled to a stoplight. Takes one to know one, Arias.

“So if you really are an old friend, keep an eye on him and make sure he does that. He doesn’t just deserve a break. It’s a requirement that he takes one.”

Liv gave Finn a questioning look. “Of course.”

“And Finn, any other screwup, and I’m ordering you back. No questions asked.”

The fact that Billings used his first name only amplified the order, like a parent invoking a middle name. It didn’t mean Finn was in trouble. It meant Billings was worried. He probably should be, but Finn wasn’t going back to spend months being observed in a fishbowl. And he’d be damned if he’d mess this up and end up a desk jockey back at headquarters. “Yes, sir.”

“Good.” The phone cut off without a goodbye, and Finn pressed the gas, rocketing forward and feeling the burn of Liv’s gaze on the side of his face.

He cleared the knot from his throat and focused on the road. “Thank you for that. Billings can be…intense.”

He didn’t dare hope that Liv wouldn’t ask questions. She’d never been one to not poke the bear, so he wasn’t surprised when she immediately started firing them off.

“Agent Dorsey?” she asked. “So not a regular cop.”

“No. FBI.”

Silence.

When he dared a look her way, her expression was unreadable, her eyes revealing nothing. “The FBI. And your boss is worried you’re some sort of live wire—which, from what I saw, you might be, and I just covered for you. I lied to a federal agent.”

He didn’t like the flat sound of her voice. Liv had always been free with her thoughts and emotions. It was one of the things that had drawn him to her. Big brown eyes that weren’t afraid to convey You’re an idiot when he was being one, or I’m into you when he wasn’t. He’d rather she was yelling at him.

“Yes, but it’s okay. I’m not going to do anything like that again. I just need to get to the lake house to clear my head. It’s too early for me to be around people.”

“Why? That’s not what your boss said. He thinks being around people is exactly what you need.” She gave him a pointed look.

“Being around people got me into this position in the first place.”

She scoffed. “And by that, I’m guessing you mean being around me. I didn’t ask you to go all Die Hard on that guy.”

“My reaction had nothing to do with you. It was a reaction to having my picture taken.” He squinted at the road, trying to choose his words carefully. “I’ve hated being photographed since all the Long Acre stuff, but it’s more than that now. My picture can’t be released in the press. It’s why I wouldn’t be on film for the documentary and checked in under a different name at the hotel. I’ve been working undercover with some dangerous people—people who would not react so well to finding out I’m not dead like they think I am.”

“Hold up. You have dangerous people after you?” She peeked out the back window as if expecting bad guys to roll up behind them. “What the hell?”

“No, like I said, they think I’m dead. As far as they know, I was going on a trip to get my girlfriend out of jail, and I got killed along with another guy in a car wreck along the way. As long as they think that, I’m good. But my picture can’t be out there. Even though we arrested the major players and I’ve changed my appearance, there are still people who could recognize me.”

Liv sagged against the seat. “Jesus, Finn.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, meaning it. “I’m not trying to scare you.”

“Well, you are.” She gave him an exasperated look. “You were out of control this morning. You didn’t hear me calling you or feel me grabbing at you. It was like you were some other person. A dangerous person.”

“I’m sorry.” His teeth pressed against each other, memories of the things he’d witnessed over the last few years flashing through his mind. The torture. The beatings. The killings. He’d been instructed not to break cover unless he needed to protect an innocent. But bearing witness to some of the things he’d seen had left its mark, had taken a piece of him. To survive ruthless people, you had to learn how to be ruthless yourself. “It’s only been a couple of weeks since I got out. I haven’t had time to decompress yet.”

She was quiet for a moment after that, but he could almost hear the wheels grinding in her head as she parsed everything. “Are you still at risk? Shouldn’t you be holed away in some safe house or something?”

The sign directing them to the main highway came up on the left, and he hit his blinker to merge. “I’m not under direct threat at this point. They don’t know who I really am or where I’m from. I was wearing my hair long, had contacts and a full beard. Different accent. And the only person who figured out who I really was is dead. I’ve covered my tracks, and I’m hundreds of miles from where I was based.”

“So you’re on leave. That’s what your boss was talking about.”


Tags: Roni Loren The Ones Who Got Away Romance