Twenty-One

Ava

“Where are we going, Flynn?” I asked.

I never saw a man turn his head so fast to stare at me. If not for the seriousness of the situation—as well as my own well-justified anger about it—it might have been funny. But he completely took his eyes off the road and stared right at me, his eyes wide and filled with uncertainty. Perhaps even a touch of fear.

“What did you call me?”

“Flynn,” I said with a sigh. “That’s your name, isn’t it? I heard the others calling you that, so I’m just assuming that’s your real name and that you’ve been lying to me this entire time.”

Nice save, Ava. My brain was fuzzy from everything that had happened, and I wasn’t exactly thinking straight. But I knew I needed to pull it together and get my head in the game. I needed to be extremely careful. As of that moment, Flynn had no idea I worked for the FBI. And he had no idea I’d known who he was the entire time we were doing whatever it was we were doing together.

Flynn. I rolled the name around in my head a little bit, and even though I knew that was his name all along, it was still weird calling him Flynn out loud. Silly, and maybe even as stupid as it sounded, there was some small part of me that had wanted to believe he really was a different man—the sort of man I could see myself with.

But now the curtains had been pulled back, and the illusion had been shattered. Given all that had happened, I was forced to accept that Ian didn’t exist anywhere but in my own mind. Only Flynn O’Brien existed, and we were currently rushing away from the scene of a crime in his car. Even worse—I had no idea where the hell we were going.

I had to play it cool, though. My life depended on it. Although I knew Ian to be a kind, gentle man, I knew what sort of man Flynn O’Brien was and what he was capable of.

“I’m sorry, Ava,” he said at last, letting out a big sigh. “I know I have a lot of explaining to do.”

“Yeah, you do,” I said. “But first, I’d like to know where you’re taking me.”

I was pretty confident that Flynn wouldn’t hurt me. Of course, that might have been misplaced confidence since he still had no idea who I was, or so I thought. If he knew me to be an FBI agent, that could change quickly. But as far as I knew, he only knew me as sweet, little Ava, and I believed that he genuinely cared for me. It was something I could use to my advantage if it came down to that.

Reaching down, he took my hand in his, kissing the knuckles. “Somewhere safe, sweetheart,” he said softly. “Away from all this. Until we can fix things with the Russians, I can’t trust they won’t try and kidnap you again. The last thing I want is for you to be hurt because of me. I won’t have you put in harm’s way ever again.”

I let out a small breath I hadn’t realized I’d been holding. It was a relief to hear him say that. It meant that I wasn’t going to end up in a shallow ditch somewhere. At least, not anytime soon. Of course, there was the fact that no one knew where I was, and that made me a little uneasy.

Not even my boss knew how close I’d gotten to Flynn O’Brien and this case. It was something I had to keep a secret since I was never authorized to go undercover. Going into this whole fiasco, I’d had no intention of getting this deep into it. But here I was. In way over my head. I was in a car, being driven to God knew where, with the head of the Irish Mob—the group who’d killed my dad all those years ago.

Flynn tossed something in my lap without saying a word.

“What’s this?” I asked, staring down at a passport.

“It’s your new identity, for now,” he said. “Hopefully it’s only temporary. But at least I know you’ll be safe.”

I looked at the photo on the passport that bore a name I didn’t recognize. Wait, was he—

“Are you sending me away?” I asked, flipping through the passport again, not quite believing what I saw.

Whoever had made it was an absolute pro. It looked like the real deal. There was my photo, expertly applied. Or rather, a woman who looked just enough like me that even I struggled to tell the difference. My name, however, was listed as Lisa Winchester.

“Not at all, Ava,” he said, tossing me a second passport.

“Paul Winchester? So you’re my husband now, is that it?”

He shrugged. “It’s the most logical story I could come up with on the fly,” he said. “Easier to explain than anything else. Not that anybody would ask any questions.”

“Are we leaving the country?”

My heart raced as I thought about what he was suggesting. I had a career—one I couldn’t just put on hold on a whim. I had a life here. If I left the country with Flynn, would I ever be able to get back? And if I did get back to it, what would it look like then?

“Not yet, we’re just going to lay low for a night or two,” he said. “But if needed, we’re ready to hop on the next plane to Bermuda or wherever the fuck we wanna go.”

Flynn seemed almost thrilled at the prospect of the two of us running away to another country. And while the idea of packing up my bags and jetting off somewhere exotic and fantastic sounded appealing in theory, I knew the reality of it was much, much scarier. We’d be on the run. Always having to watch over our shoulders for trouble.

“One step at a time, Flynn,” I said. “You’re kind of freaking me out.”

“I’m sorry, Ava,” he said, his voice softer now. “I’m getting a bit ahead of myself and should be more understanding. This has been a rough, scary day for you. But just know, I’m going to do everything in my power to make sure you’re safe and happy, wherever and whatever we do, okay? You’re my biggest priority. Nothing else.”

“Okay,” I muttered, not sure what else to say as I stared down at the passport in my hand.

In a way, I saw the passport as a ticket to freedom. To a new life and a whole new world. In another way—I saw it as a prison. As a shackle connecting me to the man and the organization who murdered my father.

“Do you trust me?” he asked me, watching me from the corner of his eye.

I nodded and answered, “Yes, yes I do.”

And that was the truth. Even though he’d lied to me from the very beginning about who he was, part of me wondered if the only lie he told me was his name and occupation. I had the feeling that it was and that perhaps, the real Flynn was the one I’d seen. The one I’d gotten to know. The one I’d come to care for. I had the feeling that I got to see behind the curtain, to the real man, though he wore a mask with the rest of the world.

Yeah, it sounded naïve even to myself. It sounded like the childish longings of a schoolgirl with a crush. But the way he held my hand and looked at me—I saw something in his eyes that made my heart flutter and my breath catch in my throat. Even with all I’d been through and everything I knew—I still had that reaction to him. And as I stared into his soulful eyes, I had to wonder—were this man’s feelings for me as genuine and pure as my feelings for him?

Would he still feel the same way if he knew who I was?