24
Alexa set the pasta salad and tray of crudités on the table, then walked over to Ronan, standing at the grill, studying the sizzling meat like it held the answers to the problem of her presence in his house.
“I’m thinking we should get this over with," she said. “How about you?”
He closed the grill and turned to look at her. She wondered if she was imagining the admiration in his eyes, or if it was just wishful thinking.
“You’ve got balls, I’ll give you that,” he said.
He was about the same height as Nick, but where Nick’s muscle was lean, Ronan had the bulk of a soldier who’d trained to jump out of planes and boats, who’d humped packs through the desert.
His hair was dark and cut short, his eyes a deeper shade of blue than her own instead of green like Nick’s. But the chiseled jaw was an echo of Nick’s, as were the pronounced cheekbones that made her think of the classical statues she’d seen in Italy when she’d gone after passing the bar.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” she said. “Balls are necessary in my job.”
He crossed his arms over his chest and his pale blue T-shirt strained to accommodate his biceps. “Do you have any idea how hard it was to let you in here? To allow you in the same room as my wife and son?”
“I think I have an idea.”
“Tell me why we should trust you,” he said.
She considered her response. “I guess I could tell you that I quit my job at the AG’s office. That’s true.” She hesitated. “Or I could tell you that I think I understand why you do what you do, that I understand because my life was decimated by someone who’s holding rallies while people cheer him on like he’s some kind of hero.”
“I’m sensing a but,” Ronan said.
“But… I have a feeling none of that would mean much.”
“What else have you got?” He asked as if he wanted her to check her cards to see if she could offer up a better hand.
“I love your brother.” She shrugged. “I wish I could write it in blood for you, that I could sign a contract to make you feel better, but when it comes right down to it, the biggest thing I can offer is my love for Nick.”
He opened the grill, picked up a set of tongs, and turned the steaks. “You think that’s enough?”
“I’m guessing you can answer that as well as anybody.”
She knew from Nick that Ronan and Julia hadn’t had an easy time of it, but they’d made it through. And while Julia didn't have Alexa’s brand of baggage, any woman the Murphy brothers let in would be a risk to them.
A shadow of emotion passed over his face before he tucked it away. “You represent a uniquely dangerous risk to us,” he said carefully.
“I understand that, but I’m also taking a uniquely dangerous risk.”
“How do you figure?” he asked, closing the grill.
“I worked hard to finish law school, to pass the bar, and I’ll never be able to work as a civil servant again. I’ll never have another job at the AG’s office and I’ll never be able to go to work for the DA. I’ll never be able to run for public office because the scrutiny would kill my chances. And then there’s Leland Walker.”
“How does he play into this equation?” Ronan asked.
“I’ve asked your brother to kill him, which means I’m complicit in what comes next.” She met his gaze. “If that’s not an insurance policy, I don’t know what is.”
The words hung in the air between them. It seemed like forever before Ronan picked up the tongs and turned back to the grill. “Want to tell everyone else these are ready?”
She forced herself not to breathe a sigh of relief. It wasn’t a blessing exactly, but her words had found their mark. She’d seen it in Ronan’s eyes. Julia had been part of MIS’ takedown of Manifest, had been involved every step of the way.
Alexa knew people had died in Italy and in Greece. The FBI hadn’t been able to tie any of it to MIS — yet — but the writing was on the wall: Julia had obviously known, had done whatever it took to get her sister back.
She would be at risk if MIS went down even if she hadn’t pulled any of the triggers.
And after Nick eliminated Leland, so would Alexa.