“All right. Come back here in three days, same time. Knock on the door and you’ll be given a packet with everything you need in it. Birth certificate, passport with a permanent address on it, bank account info. Enough to get you started.”
“What do I do from there?”
“Whatever you want. Move into your house in Essex, go abroad. Anything you’d like.”
“The passport isn’t just for show? It will work? And what address in Essex?”
“Love, this is no cheap outfit we run here. You have some enormously powerful friends and they’ve just purchased you a whole new life. Your passport is as real as if you’d been born and bred in Essex. The only thing it’ll lack is any stamps on it. I suggest you fill it up.”
“And the address is to where?”
“Your house, of course. It’s nothing fancy, mind you, but we found you a lovely little flat within the city at a reasonable price. It was purchased in your new name weeks ago. I think you’ll find it all very cozy until such time that you may want a change.”
“That’s unbelievable. How?”
He smiled at her and waved toward the stairs. “Some secrets aren’t to be shared, love. Enjoy your new life. Just knock on the door when you get to the top and she’ll let you out.”
“You don’t require payment?” she asked, having been under the impression that the money Niall had given her was for this.
“I’ve received the payment I require,” he replied with a slow smile.
Deidre nodded. She didn’t know exactly what that meant, but she was sure she wouldn’t get an answer to that question from him or Niall.
“Thank you,” she replied, hurrying up the stairs and knocking loudly.
The sound of the locks came from the other side and the door opened. She stepped out and followed the woman back out, noting that the locks hadn’t been secured once she was out. Apparently, it was only while occupied by strangers that it was necessary. Just another puzzle piece in this odd encounter.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Niall
Niall’s phone rang just as they were about to pull onto the long road that led to The Silver Scales MC. He looked at the screen and saw that it was an unknown number, not surprising since he was using a burner phone.
“Hello?” he said, hopeful.
“It’s Europa. I’m safe,” Deidre replied.
“Good to hear.”
“Yes.”
“A secure place?”
“As far as I know,” she replied.
“Very good. Okay. Take the phone I gave you and destroy the sim card, toss the whole lot into the water somewhere. Get yourself a new phone. Live your new life.”
“I’ll send you the number.”
“No. No contact past this. You have to be smart now.”
There was a hesitation on the other end, then, “I owe you.”
“No, you don’t. You’re free of any debts to me or anyone else. Don’t squander the gift given. That’s enough payment.”
“Okay,” she said, her voice drifting away.
“Hello?” he said, not sure if she’d lost signal or ended the call.
“I’m here. I just don’t know what else to say,” she told him.
“No need to say anything,” he replied, fighting back the bile in his throat. “I’ve got to go. Take care of yourself,” he told her.
“Goodbye,” she replied, and he heard a click from the other end.
It had somehow been the hardest conversation of his life. There was so much he wanted to say, so much he couldn’t say for fear of giving away anything to anyone who might somehow be listening. He could feel her pull, even from far away. He wanted to go to her, to go with her.
He knew it would make no sense to anyone who’d never imprinted on someone. It would have made no sense to him before her, but they were a part of one another now, and letting that go was somehow more painful than any battle wound a man could sustain.
Perhaps, in time, he could solve things and find her again, but it was unfair to give her false hope. It was better that she move forward thinking their time was brief and would never come again. It would be hard for either of them to find love after an imprint, but it wasn’t impossible.
“I take it she made it away?” Ronan asked as he drove toward the motorcycle club ahead of them.
“Yes. That’s done and dusted. Let’s just focus on the task at hand now,” Niall replied.
“Good idea,” Ronan replied.
They were met by six large men standing outside the large wooden cabin as they pulled into one of the few parking slots designated for cars. The motorcycle clubhouse looked more like a resort than some cheap and cheerful clubhouse, and the bikes that flanked the spots in front of it were top of the line. The club had money, and thus, power beyond the might of their dragons.
Neither he nor Ronan attempted to get out of the car. They were there uninvited, which was risky, but they’d not wanted to chance being told no flatly by calling ahead. Niall rolled down the window and addressed one of the men now surrounding their car.