Page 122 of Debt of My Soul

Liam growls and my eyes widen as his nostrils flare.

I needed this moment with Liam and now that I have it, I don’t want him taken away. I can’t have him taken away.

“Liam, it’s okay, don’t?—”

“Take your hands off her,” Liam demands, and I flinch, waiting for the agents around us to secure him or cuff him.

But the opposite happens. The hand clenching my arms releases me and I blink.

“Sorry, Agent Parker.”

I blink again. What did he just?—

“Fleur, listen to me.” Liam’s words are clear, but I don’t understand.

“What’s going on?” I ask. I glance around, agents milling about, placing more of Darrin’s men into police cars and transport trucks. No one is pursuing Liam. “I-I don’t understand.”

Liam’s thumb caresses my cheek, and I close my eyes, allowing myself to memorize the rough pads of his fingers lingering there. Then I push him away.

“Liam.”

“I’m an agent, undercover. My mission was Darrin and his operation.”

My mouth falls open as my mind repeats those words.

I’m an agent. Undercover.

The bloody man from earlier approaches and my attention flips to him. Memories of our trips to “deliver” products flash in the back of my mind and I shake my head.

“You were meeting him.” I gesture my head over to the man and Liam follows it, nodding when he catches sight of him.

My heart pounds. I’m so confused. “So, all that talk about being here for Adam, your commitment to your brother, saving him—was all that part of your cover this whole time?”

Liam’s eyes widen. “What? No, Fleur, listen. I was here for a year because of Adam before I got involved with the agency. With my police academy training and my established connection in Darrin’s crew already solidified, it was the perfect mission for me.”

“Police academy?” When did he mention this? He didn’t. I didn’t even know that about him. A pit of nausea tumbles around in my stomach, and I take a step back. “Were you ever going to tell me?”

He reaches for me, but I pull my hand from his. “Yes, Fleur. God, yes. All I wanted to do was to tell you. When you thoughtthe worst of me. When I claimed you. I wanted to tell you that you were safe with me—with law enforcement.”

“You didn’t trust me.”

“No, Fleur, that’s—” He diverts his gaze, looking at the agent he called Wilson coming to stand near us. “Give us a minute, please.”

“You’re needed for debriefing and you need that graze looked at,” he says to Liam. The man, Wilson, looks back at me. “Ma’am, I can have one of our agents take you where you need to go.”

I flinch. Go? Go where? I glance toward the cabin I called home with Liam, my now husband. Crime scene tape dwarfs it, and I close my eyes, taking a deep breathe through my nose.

As if he’s read my anxious thoughts, Liam responds, “My grandparents. She can stay there. Please let me have a minute, man.”

Agent Wilson nods and steps away a few feet. I snort at the mere illusion of privacy.

“So Agent Wilson is what … your handler?”

“Yes.”

I press my lips together, pulling them inward and fighting back tears. “You kept telling me to trust you, over and over. But yet you couldn’t be bothered to tell me about your mission, your job. I could’ve helped you. It’s not like I was a willing participant here, Liam.”

“I didn’t want to put you in a compromising situation.” He sighs.

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