Page 130 of Tell No One
“You know Tag?” Rafiq asked.
Ahsan kissed Rafiq’s cheek. “I’ve a lot to tell you. Much that you will not like to hear.”
“You’re with me now. Nothing else matters.”
It was strange the way that got under Delaney’s skin, touched something inside him. He wanted to tell them a lot else mattered, that they were never going to feel completely safe, that they’d always be looking over their shoulders. But maybe that wasn’t their future. Maybe there was another way.
“Do you happen to be going anywhere near the Royal Infirmary?” Delaney asked.
“We pass it,” Rafiq said.
“Give me a lift?”
Rafiq nodded.
“Let me just get my stuff.”
Delaney collected the bags, including Tag’s, and the case holding his rifle from the helicopter and went back to the reception area where Henry was sitting.
“All okay?” Henry asked.
“Yes. They’re giving me a lift to the hospital. I’ll stay working for you until things are sorted, but I’m done now.”
“Yes, I thought you might be.” Henry stood and held out his hand. “Give my best to Tag. I hope he makes a swift recovery. I’ll see you in the office in a few days.”
When Rafiq pulled up outside the hospital, Delaney gathered his belongings. He bent to the open driver’s window and said, “It wasn’t on your way, was it?”
“No, but it was the least we could do,” Ahsan said. “Please give him our best wishes. He saved my life. I’ll never forget that.”
As Delaney walked into the hospital, his heart started to race. He wasn’t even sure what name Tag had been admitted under, so he hesitated when he reached the reception. But when he asked for Tag Blake, he was directed to one of the wards. He couldn’t get there fast enough.
Tag was asleep, hooked up to a drip. His chest was one massive multicoloured bruise, blue, black and yellow, with a small white dressing over where the bullet had penetrated the armour. His face was grazed, his arms too. He still looked beautiful to Delaney. While he was sleeping and wouldn’t notice, Delaney leaned over and kissed his forehead. “I love you,” he whispered.
He was amazed the words hadn’t lodged in his throat. No way would he have said them if Tag had been awake. Delaney had never said that to anyone, never envisaged saying it to anyone or hearing it from anyone. He hadn’t known he was capable of love. There had never been space in his life for anything other than work and survival and occasional sex. This was different. Tag was different. He’d found a way through Delaney’s armour and reached his heart.
But Tag deserved better. The longer Delaney sat on the chair next to the bed, the more convinced he became of what he needed to do. It wouldn’t be difficult to make Tag’s future bright by transferring money to his account, enough to allow him to buy a house, set up a pottery studio and live his dream.
He’d anticipated that Tag wouldn’t want to walk away, so Delaney would be doing it for him. They were an odd couple. A jaded ex-assassin and a smiling kid who had enough energy in bed for both of them. Delaney would hold him back. Tag had enough in his life to deal with without adding someone like him into the mix.
Despite what he’d told Rafiq and Ahsan, once you’d stepped into this dark world, you could never let your guard down. Control was everything. Control of his expression, his heart rate, the way he moved and lived, his awareness at all times. He’d already lost control of his heart. Those who made a mistake, mostly didn’t live long enough to make another. Tag would be his mistake.
And damn me if I don’t want to make it anyway.
Delaney looked up, saw Tag watching him and plastered a smile on his face. So much for being aware of all things at all times.
“Oh God, am I dying?” Tag asked. “You never smile at me.”
“I do fucking smile at you.” Delaney frowned.
“Not often enough.”
Delaney couldn’t help smiling at that. Tag could work a miracle few others managed.
Tag pushed himself upright and pulled out the IV.
Delaney stood up. “What are you doing?”
“What does it look like I’m doing?”
