Page 119 of Wilde and Deadly

“That’s fucking cold.”

Brody’s smirk faltered—not in guilt, but in genuine confusion.

“Cold?” His brows drew together, his head tilting slightly, as if he were struggling to translate a foreign language. “Benji was a threat. Elliot was collateral damage. That happens in war.”

His tone was so flat, so eerily reasonable, it made Liam’s skin crawl.

“Why is it cold when I do it, but not when someone like Davey—a SEAL—does it under a flag?”

Jesus. He wasn’t playing dumb. He really didn’t get it.

Silence stretched between them.

Brody blinked, waiting like he expected an answer. When none came, he sighed. “Is that why you got suspicious of me?”

Liam didn’t respond. Couldn’t. There was no way to explain the difference to someone whose moral compass was that broken.

Finally Brody shrugged it off. “Well, no matter what tipped you off, I knew you couldn’t have you hanging around. So I followed you to the office, waited until you dropped Daphne off, and grabbed you. Took a few shots at Davey and Cade at the cafe to make it look like your doing?—”

He snorted. “Iwouldn’t have missed.”

“Even with your own cousins in the crosshairs?” Brody gave a low whistle that he couldn’t hear. “And you say I’m cold? Even I know that’s sub-zero, man.”

Jesus, this was bad.

Liam yanked on his cuffs, but there was no give at all. He could move his legs, but that wasn’t going to do him any good as long as his arms were trapped around the back of this fucking bench, which was bolted to the concrete floor.

He had to keep Brody talking. It was his only chance. “So why isn’t Plan B working?”

“Because my fucking brother grabbed Atlas Frost without telling me.”

“And Frost knows your identity,” Liam concluded. “You couldn’t guarantee he wouldn’t spill it for the right price.”

Brody unzipped the duffle. “I wanted to wait and see if my cover held, if the evidence I’d planted to make you the mole was compelling enough, if Frost kept his mouth shut. Judging by the amount of firepower headed this way, it didn’t and he didn’t. So. Meet Plan C.” He pulled out a tactical vest lined with explosives.

Liam wasn’t surprised, but the sight of it still settled like lead in his stomach. “Bit dramatic, don’t you think?”

“I don’t do half measures.” Brody crouched in front of him, draping the vest around his shoulders like a man helping a friend into a jacket.

Liam exploded into motion.

He drove his knee up, fast and brutal, aiming for Brody’s face, but Brody twisted at the last second. The blow glanced off his shoulder instead of breaking his nose.

Brody swore, but Liam wasn’t done. He lunged, teeth bared, and sank them deep into Brody’s forearm.

Brody yelled in pain. Real pain.

Liam bit down harder. He tasted blood. Coppery, hot, a victory he didn’t have time to savor.

Brody slammed his elbow into Liam’s jaw. A sharp, bone-jarring impact that rattled his teeth and snapped his head back. Stars burst in his vision, and for a second, everything tilted.

Brody yanked his arm free, blood dripping from the fresh wound. He staggered back, shaking out his arm, eyes wild with something between fury and admiration.

“Jesus, Liam.” Brody wiped at the blood on his forearm with an almost amused shake of his head. “Don’t fight me on this. It won’t change a damn thing.

Liam panted through the pain, the metallic taste still on his tongue. He smirked and felt blood drip down his chin. His or Brody’s was anyone’s guess, but his money was on Brody’s.

Brody let out a breathless laugh, but it wasn’t quite steady now. “Damn shame this had to end like this. You’d have made one hell of a Praetorian.”

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