Page 53 of Tell No One
“I can’t think that any of those involved with what went on at Harborne House are directly behind this,” Delaney said. “They might have discovered that I went into their system and downloaded stuff they’d prefer wasn’t downloaded, but why put a tracker in my bag before I’d even done that?”
“Unless they did it to everyone. Knowledge is power, right?”
“Yes, but in this case no. It would be a huge risk. A breach of privacy that would destroy what they’re doing and they had our addresses. Well, the one I wanted them to have.”
“What are they doing apart from arranging kinky parties for rich people?”
“Better that you don’t know.”
Tag bit his lip. “So it could be the guy you did the diamond job with that’s behind it.”
“Why?”
“Maybe he wasn’t who you thought he was. Maybe he’s like you? Another James Bond. Not being who you thought he was would also apply to the driver of your getaway car. Everyone has a price.”
That would also apply to someone in the organisation he worked for. Barker made no secret of disliking Delaney. They’d clashed a few times and Barker had never come out on top. But to want to kill him? Jeopardise his position? It didn’t make sense. And just because Delaney didn’t want it to be Henry, didn’t mean it wasn’t.
The train pulled in. There was hardly anyone on it. They put their bags on the seats facing them and Delaney had Tag sit next to the window. He kissed his damaged ear and Tag turned to him in surprise. Delaney stroked it with his finger. “I wish I could have killed him slowly,” he whispered.
Tag smiled his sunshine smile and Delaney felt better.
9
Tag thought he was doing a pretty good job of holding himself together. But really, he was the most freaked out he’d ever been in his entire life and that included several occasions when he’d found himself paralysed in shock, literally unable to move, hardly able to breathe. Even thinking about those times was sometimes enough to make him hyperventilate.
Delaney—no way was Tag ever going to work out his actual name—and really, he shouldn’t even want to—had killed two guys right in front of him.And one of them had a gun at my head.What if getting shot had made the guy pull the trigger?Some sort of reflex? Tag shuddered.I could have died.Not only that, master assassin Delaney had a tried-and-tested, highly efficient system in place to get rid of bodies.And I helped him.
I fucking helped him!Tag could almost see prison beckoning.
What is he?He’d thought MI5 but would an MI5 agent be stealing diamonds? Maybe an offshoot of MI5. Or maybe nothing legal at all.
Tag closed his eyes and pressed his head against the train window. If he was caught by the police, he’d go back to prison for a long time. Didn’t matter that someone had been about to shoot him, and that Delaney had saved his life. All that had been undone by what happened afterwards. And if the police didn’t get him, and whoever had sent those killers did, Tag was pretty sure he could predict the outcome. Being with Delaney might save him, or it might get him killed. But then that might happen anyway.
Served Tag right for wishing his life was more exciting. It was like one of those trick wishes where you don’t get what you expect.Yes, you can have the car and the house and the money, but you die next week.
Not being in control of his destiny filled him with anxiety. No job, nowhere to live and on the run. If he’d been certain that leaving Delaney would keep him safe, would he have bailed? He gave a shaky sigh. It wasn’t a question he could ask himself, because he couldn’t be certain.
And the weirdest thing of all was that Tag still liked him.He saved me. I’m nothing but a bother to him and he saved me. He kissed me.
Delaney took his hand and squeezed his fingers. Tag thought he’d let go, but he didn’t. Maybe because Tag was clinging too hard.
Could I get off the train before we reach London?
And do what? Withdraw all his money from the bank and move as far away from that town as he could possibly get, as fast as he possibly could?But his name could give him away. He should have gone for John Smith. When he tried to find work, his National Insurance number could give him away. If he tried to claim benefits,thatcould give him away. So could his face. All those things were solvable, sort of—if he had money. But someone wanted him dead. Even if he didn’t know anything, his association with Delaney was fatal and there was no reversing that.
“It’s going to be okay,” Delaney whispered in his damaged ear, then kissed it. “Don’t cry.”
Tag gasped. Was he crying? He dragged his free hand over his wet cheeks and turned to face Delaney.
“I told you before, I’m not going to let anyone hurt you,” Delaney said.
Even though Tag understood that wasn’t a promise he could keep, it was still good to hear it. Tag leaned in to kiss him, they crashed noses and both ended up quietly chuckling against the other’s mouth.
“I’m scared,” Tag said. “I’m scared I won’t be able to keep my mouth shut if someone starts asking me questions and they’ll find out about Harborne House and the diamond place and those two guys and what we did and—”
Delaney kissed him again, silencing Tag’s frantic flood of words, and Tag melted against him. The kiss wasn’t awkward this time, but the way they were pressed together was. Tag didn’t care. He needed to be close to Delaney, because right or wrong, when he wasn’t with him, he felt adrift. It was crazy, he knew it was, but he couldn’t help it.
And when Delaney’s fingers crept down to the front of his jeans and held him there, Tag knew Delaney would feel him going hard. Tag whimpered into Delaney’s exhalation.
