Liam's Witness Protection (Man on a Mission 4)

She opened her mouth—to say what, he wasn’t sure—when a rap on the door frame of his hospital room interrupted them. Liam glanced over and saw Nick D’Arcy standing there, grinning. Right beside him was Alec. And crowded behind them were Keira, Cody, Shane and...

“Mom?” he asked in a disbelieving voice.

Cate abruptly attempted to move out of his embrace when she heard him, but he tightened his left arm around her and kept her anchored at his side. “Don’t think you can escape because my right arm’s out of commission with the IV,” he murmured for her ears alone. “I’m ambidextrous. I thought you already knew.”

He knew she’d heard him—and had made the connection—because her cheeks turned pink. But she stayed right where she was as his mother squeezed through the people blocking the doorway and headed straight for him.

“My baby,” she said, cupping his cheeks in her hands and raining kisses over his face. “My baby’s okay.”

“I’m not your baby, Mom,” he protested, embarrassed but laughing. “That’s Keira.”

“You’re my baby boy,” she insisted, taking a step back to look him over. “And don’t you forget it, Liam Thermopolis Jones,” she added with a militant gleam in her eyes.

Cate glanced down at him, her eyes brimming over with sudden amusement. She raised her eyebrows. “Thermopolis?”

Liam flushed. “Yeah,” he growled. “But don’t even think about calling me by that name.” He wasn’t about to explain how his mother—a romantic at heart—had named him that because he’d been conceived at the mineral hot springs located in Thermopolis, Wyoming. He’d had a hard enough time living down the name when he was a kid. Liam was unusual enough, but Thermopolis...

All at once the room was crowded with the other members of his family who’d been able to make it to his sickbed. Only Niall was missing, and Liam understood—black ops warriors were rarely free on short notice.

All Alec said was, “Looking good, bro,” but the warm respect in his eyes spoke volumes.

Keira pressed her cheek against his and whispered in his ear, “I’m so proud of you.”

Shane came around the other side, clapped him on the right shoulder and teased, “Trust Mr. Knight-Errant to find a way to save the damsel in distress and make himself look like a hero...without getting himself killed.”

“Like you should talk, Senator,” Liam said, lifting his chin in the direction of the barely visible scar on the left side of his oldest brother’s head beneath his close-cropped hair—Shane’s own badge of honor.

Shane just laughed and made way for Cody, who tapped Liam’s jaw with his fist, saying, “Thought you told me there was no bullet out there with your name on it.”

Liam had forgotten he’d said that to Cody not too long ago. Now he said, “There wasn’t. It wasn’t meant for me.”

The hushed silence that greeted his words was broken by Nick D’Arcy. “If you don’t mind, everyone,” he said, moving away from the doorway. “I need to speak to these two...in private. It won’t take long, I promise.”

It was amazing how quickly the room emptied, as if D’Arcy had waved a magic wand. He pulled a chair away from the wall and put it next to Liam’s, then indicated Cate sit in it. When she did, he said, “I can’t even begin to apologize for putting you in danger, Ms. Mateja—”

“Cate,” she interjected.

He nodded. “Cate.” His gaze moved to Liam and he smiled slightly. “I told you I wasn’t really omniscient, much as I’d like to be. This proves it.”

“No one is.” Liam sucked in air, feeling a twinge in his chest. “But you had the right idea.” When Cate turned startled eyes his way, he explained to her, “Keira told me about the op yesterday, after you left and she came in to see me.” He turned back to D’Arcy. “So I know the whole setup, what all went down, everything. But what Keira couldn’t—or wouldn’t—tell me, was what progress the agency or the FBI has made in finding out who set Cate up to be assassinated in the first place. And I couldn’t talk to ask. Who smuggled the Uzis into the courthouse?”

“The FBI got lucky there,” D’Arcy said. “They raised the serial numbers and tracked down the shipment they were stolen from. You were right—no one is better than the FBI at following a paper trail. One thing led to another...and so on. Turns out, it was someone in the US Attorney’s Office—the prosecutor who was shot but wasn’t killed.”