Page 80 of Lost to Thievery
“I suggest the two of you get your heads in the game before you go in there. Or do I have to question Taylor myself?” He pursed his lips into fine lines.
Owen was the first to regain his voice. “No, sir, we’ll do it.” He gave me a light nudge towards the door to get me moving.
The director stepped to the side to let us pass. “I’ll be watching.” It was a warning. To get our shit together.
I sighed a breath of relief as soon as the door shut behind us, grateful to be out from under Director Devereux’s eyes.
There were two agents stationed outside the interrogation room. They swiftly moved to the opposite side of the hall to give us access. One of them looked at Owen with a brief flicker of pity. Luckily, Owen didn’t notice it.
Owen paused with his hand on the handle of the door. He took in a deep breath, steadying himself, before looking at me, his eyes softening as they flickered over my face. “Are you ready?” There was triumph in the small smile he gave me, making my stomach flutter again.
What the hell had just happened in that room?
There was no time to think about it. I straightened and nodded, feeling my face reassemble into hard lines. “Yes. And I’m taking the lead.”
When we walked into the interrogation room, Liam didn’t bother to look who it was. When Owen and I were both seated, he finally pulled his gaze from the wall.
His face was perfectly blank. It reminded me so much of Grayson’s emotionless mask that I had to look away. Grayson was probably where he learned it from.
Lifting my eyes to Liam agony twisted in my gut as the realisation of his betrayal slammed into me again. The pain shot up through my body and choked off my air supply. When I finally swallowed it down, I dared a look at Owen, and it turned to ice-cold rage pooling in my belly. Owen’s hand was tremblingwhere he clutched it around his leg. His jaw was tight and his back rigid as he fought against his own emotions.
How could Liam do this to him? Owen didn’t deserve this.
I cleared my throat, and my thoughts. I couldn’t save Owen from the hurt, but I could get him the answers he needed to get through it. “Did the hangover kick in yet?”
Liam turned his gaze to me. “Yes,” he answered flatly.
At least he was talking. “Good.”
I caught the slight twitch of his mouth. The tightness in my chest eased the tiniest bit. The Liam we knew was still in there. And he hadn’t mastered the mask quite like Grayson had.
“How long have you known Grayson Varon?” I started.
Liam’s jaw tensed up. “I want my lawyer.”
Owen slammed a fist on the table, making me jump. “Threefuckingyears, Liam! Three years I’ve called you my best friend. And you’re gonna sit there and ask for a lawyer? Answer the goddamn question!”
Liam was quiet, but pain flickered across his face.
I homed in on it. “Owen trusted you, Liam. He loved you like a brother. The least you can do is tell him why.” I kept my voice gentle. “It will eat him alive if you don’t.”
Liam snorted, but the mask had slipped. “You’re fucking ruthless, you know that, Ava? You’re more like Gray than you think.” His words were cutting but his eyes flicked to Owen, and sorrow practically oozed from his pores. He breathed deeply and straightened in his chair. “I’ll answer whatever questions I can.”
Gray.
Liam was so close to Grayson, that he called himGray.
Owen had heard it too. He was clenching and unclenching his fists beneath the table, and I reached out to him, not caring that Director Devereux was watching. I curled my fingers into his, and he squeezed them tightly.
“Then tell me how long you’ve known Grayson,” I asked again.
“Four years.”
Owen gave a cold laugh. “So, what? You transferred to this station to be a spy for Varon?”
“Yes. Specifically, to keep an eye on you.”
“Why?” I breathed. “Was hethatafraid of Owen?”
