“Oh my God.”

“Relax. I’m sure they washed the sheets.” I snapped the blinds closed and turned on the television and flipped through the channels. There was nothing on the news about the disaster at my place, so I turned it back off.

“I need to check a few things.” I tossed the remote on the bed. Ava turned around, her blue eyes wide. “I’ll pick up some food while I’m out.”

“You’re going to leave?” She said the words flatly, even though I could see the panic in her eyes.

“I’ll be back soon.” I went through the bag and pocketed some of the money before grabbing one of the belt holsters for my pistol. The .45 was my favorite and I wasn’t going anywhere without it.

“What if you aren’t?” She chewed on her bottom lip. “What if you don’t come back?”

“I’m coming back, Ava.”

“You think you’re coming back.” She took a deep breath. “What if you can’t come back?”

“If I don’t come back, use the money to get to your consulate. Tell them I kidnapped you but you managed to get away.” She could do that while I was gone, but I had to show her trust to get trust. And I wanted her to trust me. “But I am coming back.”

She stared at me and for a moment I felt lost in her eyes. There was so much emotion trapped there that I wondered how she was staying so calm.

“Okay.” She nodded her head.

“Lock the door and stay away from the window. I’ll be back with some food soon.” I didn’t smile. I wanted her to know I was serious, that I would be back—even if I had to climb out of the grave to do so.

There was a very short list of things that scared me. And I’d managed to fall head first into my number one fear—caring about someone. In less than a week, Ava had managed to turn my entire, well-compartmentalized world upside down. Turning away from her, I left the room quickly. No reason to draw this out.

I heard the deadbolt click into place after I left. Good girl. No one knew we were here and Marcus would have no reason to look for me at this place. Not only did I never share the details about my hits with him, I never stayed in the same hotel or inn. In a place like London, that wasn’t a hard thing to do. Every grandmother or uncle owned an inn or a hotel in this town.

It was summer time, but there was still enough chill in the air to wear a light jacket. There had been an old jumper in the back of the truck, so I pulled the hood up around my face and headed for a nearby store. I needed a burner phone and some supplies. A change of clothes would be nice as well.

I stopped in a small store and grabbed a basket. I threw in some essentials: soap, shampoo for Ava, a knife sharpener, deodorant, toothpaste, and some duct tape. There were racks of clothing on the other side of the store. I guessed at sizes for Ava and grabbed a few things for me. There were some clearance items at the front of the store and I grabbed a shirt for Ava to sleep in.

There were very few people that I trusted; of the few people I had met over the years, Roger was one of the people I would trust the most. He lived in a small house within walking distance, which is why I had chosen this side of town. It wouldn’t take me long to get there so I skipped the Tube. I bought a lot of my firearms from him and I could always count on him to get me explosives. There wasn’t much Roger couldn’t find.

I watched from a nearby store for a while before going in his gate. The man was trustworthy, but paranoid as all hell. He wouldn’t take kindly to me just showing up at his home, but he’d have to deal. This was a special circumstance.

I rang the doorbell and waited. I kept my hands out of my pockets so he could see them and pushed my hood back far enough that he would recognize my face. The door opened a crack and Roger peered out at me.

“Well, fuck it all.” The door snapped shut while he undid the chain and then back open. “Get in! Hurry the fuck up before someone sees you.”

“Nice to see you too, Rog.” I slid in past him and pushed the hood back the rest of the way.

“What the fuck happened to you? The fucking internet has blown up. Did you know there is a hit out on you? Mavis still hasn’t checked in with our group and Thomas Delaney is apparently dead. You’ve got some nerve showing up at my house right now. You could have led them straight to me.” He walked past me toward a small kitchen. “Sit down. I’ll make tea.”

“Thanks, but I’m in a hurry.” His dog looked up at me from where he lay on the floor. “Who put the contract out?”

Roger didn’t answer me, just putted around the kitchen for a few minutes. He rinsed his kettle out before filling it back up and setting it on the stove. He took out two cups and set them on the counter. The handle of one of them was a pistol grip. I took it and managed to not shake my head in dismay.

“Have you spoken to your brother?”

“No, but I intend to.” I sat down on the stool at the counter. Roger was the only person I worked with that knew of my connection to Marcus.

“Then you already know.” He sat down and looked up at me. His glasses perched on the end of his nose. “When a handler turns on their operative it’s always bad news. Our group was waiting to see if you made it out.”

“If he wanted me dead, he didn’t send enough people.” I leaned forward, my arms resting on the counter. “Has there been any talk about a hit on an American?”

“The woman someone said was with you? No. Not a hit. I’ve heard rumblings though.” He took his glasses off and wiped them on his robe. “Abduction.”