Page 138 of The Thief
"That's not?—"
"She was using Freddie, just like she used everyone else. Gathering intelligence, playing games, feeding information to whoever paid her best. She used you as a way to escape her shitty life. But she realized how fucked up you were. She had already found someone new, someone she had sunk her claws into. She wasn't coming back to Dublin, Trace; she was moving to Kerry. Her new man was down there."
"Shut up."
"Does the truth hurt? Your beloved wife was a whore, Trace. A professional liar who'd sell out anyone for the right price."
"I said shut up!" Now Trace sounds unhinged, the careful control completely gone. "You don't understand anything about her, about us. She loved me!"
"She loved your money. Your connections. Your usefulness. That was all that Ava wanted."
"She was coming home! She told me?—"
He stops abruptly, realizing he's said something he shouldn't have. But it's too late. We all heard it.
She was coming home. She told me.
"Told you what?" Henry presses.
"Nothing. Forget I said anything."
"Told you she was coming back to Boston? That whatever she had here was temporary?"
Silence.
"That's it, isn't it? She confessed everything before you killed her. She told you it was all business, that she never loved any of them."
"She—" Trace's voice breaks. "She said she was ready to come home, said she'd learned everything she needed to know about your operations. She said the Irish connection was finished."
The words hit the room like physical blows. Ava wasn't planning to stay in Dublin. She wasn't planning to leave Trace for Freddie. She was going back to report everything she'd learned. None of this makes any sense. I don't understand Ava. I've tried—God, I've tried to wrap my head around what she's done, but none of this makes a bit of sense. It seems no one knows what the hell she was doing.
"And you killed her anyway," Henry says quietly.
"I protected her! Protected us! She was pregnant, vulnerable. I couldn't let her go back into that world."
"So you put a bullet in her chest."
"It was quick. Painless. Better than what your people would have done when they found out she'd been using them."
The casual way he describes murdering his pregnant wife makes me sick. This man is completely broken, completely insane.
"You're a monster," I find myself saying.
"Ah, the granddaughter speaks. Hello, Alastríona. It's a shame I didn't get a chance to play with you longer. I have so many plans."
Freddie's hand tightens on my shoulder, but I don't back down.
"You'll never get the chance to do so again."
"Won't I? Because I think you're wrong about that. I think very soon, you and I are going to have a long conversation about respect. About consequences. I'm going to have my fun with you."
"The only conversation we'll have is when I watch you die."
Trace laughs again, but there's madness in it now. "Spirited. I like that. It'll make breaking you so much more satisfying. I was so close to doing it last month. So damn close. But your lapdog had to interrupt us. Next time, he won't be so lucky. I'm going to break you, Alastríona, and I'm going to enjoy every second of it."
"Try it," Freddie says, voice deadly quiet. "Please fucking try it."
"Oh, I will. Sooner than you think. You see, I know things. Things about your security, your plans, your precious safe houses. Someone very close to you has been extremely helpful."
