Got it Bad

by Christi Barth

  “I’m not!” he exploded. “Stop seeing me through this funhouse mirror that makes me look perfect. Just because I wasn’t a professional thug doesn’t mean I’m one-dimensional.”

  “Ooh—you can count cards. You’re a real rule breaker,” Rafe mocked. No, he didn’t even mock. He was just teasing. The same way he’d teased when Kellan was eight and solemnly stated that he would be the first ever astronaut to talk to aliens.

  Fine. They thought he was so perfect? So incapable of bending, let alone fucking shattering, the rules?

  He’d tell them.

  He’d tell them about breaking one of the biggest rules of their continued participation in WITSEC.

  Kellan planted one foot at the top of the soft dune and leaned in, one hand bracing on his thigh. “I break one hell of a rule every day. You two turned over a new leaf when we moved here. Tried to be good. Tried to stick to the straight and narrow. Well, I went the other way.”

  Flynn rolled his eyes. “Dude, stop trying to keep up with us. We’ll always be older than you. You’re not a badass. It’s just dumb pretending to top being in the mob.”

  Rafe’s eyes, however, narrowed. With both belief and suspicion. “What have you done?”

  Unable to resist, Kellan lobbed back, “Delaney.”

  “I don’t . . . what does the marshal have to do with any of this?”

  It was just sad that they didn’t get his word play. “I’m with Delaney. We’re dating. We’re together.”

  Two sets of almost identical blue eyes blinked at him. The full moon made it easy to read the shock washing across their faces.

  For a split second, Kellan wanted to take it back. Because he didn’t want to see the inevitable disappointment paint their faces next.

  Then all hell broke loose. Rafe looked around, as if trying to find something to heave at a nonexistent wall. It’s what usually happened when he lost it. He leapt down the slope, grabbed the flag out of the hole, and chucked it toward the ocean.

  Being a tiny flag on a pole, it didn’t go very far. And when he was back in the privacy of his room, Kellan planned to laugh hysterically at the memory of his hulking brother heaving that teensy white flag.

  Flynn, meanwhile, paced in a tight circle, one hand drilled through his hair as if trying to pluck Kellan’s words straight from his skull. Oh, and he muttered. Every single curse word Kellan had ever heard, and then a string of them put together in . . . interesting combinations.

  God, he wanted to take a video of the two of them losing it and send it to Delaney. But first he’d have to wade through the filthy aftermath of the truth bomb he’d dropped.

  Rafe stalked back up to him, grim determination set in every frown line across his forehead and bracketing his mouth. “Have you lost your fucking mind?”

  Hot on his heels, Flynn demanded, “How could you not tell us?”

  Whoa. Talk about pulling exactly the wrong string.

  Kellan started to lift his arms, then just let them fall back to his sides. “Are you fucking kidding me? After you hid everything from me for fifteen years?”

  Rafe jabbed a finger in the three inches of air between them. “You didn’t need to know what we did. How we earned the money that kept pizza on the table and new Nikes on your feet.”

  “And you didn’t need to know about Delaney,” he shot back.

  “We damn well did. Do. We deserve to know when we’re in danger. Your inability to keep your pants zipped could get us kicked out of WITSEC.”

  Unbelievable. Did they really think he’d given that zero consideration? That his dick was the only part of him making decisions?

  Kellan wasn’t flaunting their relationship on social media. They were careful not to meet where anyone would know them. For God’s sake, he’d kept it a secret for seven weeks from the people he lived with. No way would a federal agency suddenly figure out their dating status. Not with the precautions they took.

  “No, I won’t. I’m smarter than that. We’re careful,” he insisted.

  Flynn grabbed his shoulder, fingers digging in deep. His voice was a low rumble beneath the constant background noise of the pounding surf. “Careful like you double wrap with condoms and the pill? Or careful like you actually think an entire office of trained government spooks won’t figure out that one of their own is skulking around fucking her protectee?”

  One quick twist got him out of Flynn’s grip. But Kellan didn’t back away. He crowded closer, getting right in his brother’s face. “Don’t,” he warned, in more of a growl than an actual word.

  “Don’t what? State the obvious?”

  Rafe tightened their triangle. Not even an insomniac seagull would be able to overhear their conversation. “We’ve both watched you drooling over the marshal from day one. Believe me, there are plenty of other hot blondes in the world, even out here in this hiccup of a town.”

  Kellan stood his ground. Literally. “I don’t want a blonde. Or a brunette, for that matter. I want Delaney.”

  One hand stroking his chin, Flynn asked, “What if we offered you twins, instead?”

  Rafe’s jaw dropped. “Do you know any twins?”

  “No. But I know how to work a Google search.” He scrubbed a hand through his hair. “What about maybe a gymnast, or an ice skater?”

  Hands thrown up in the air, Rafe said, “Christ, Flynn, finding a woman isn’t like building a pizza on the Domino’s app.”

  Kellan refused to listen to any more of this even though it was pretty damned funny. He needed to make a point, right the hell now. “Look, you both gave speeches about demanding respect when you fell for your women. I’m asking for the same. Delaney’s mine. You’ll just have to get used to it.”

  “Does she know this?” Rafe hooked a thumb over his shoulder, in the direction of their house. “Or is she back home, locked in our basement?”

  On a snort, Flynn asked, “Did you make a secret sex dungeon, K?”

  Okay, it was nice that they’d stopped yelling at him. Their lame attempts at humor were at least better than fighting.

  Kellan hated being at odds with his brothers and they’d been that way for months. He loved ’em, but Kellan still wanted to lay a haymaker on each of them for being mobsters.

  It was something he’d started to work out of his system by talking with Delaney. Her listening, her flat-out support and total understanding of how it killed him to see both sides of their decision, smoothed out the rawness of it.

  So he was able to say, calmly, “I told you, we’re together. We’re crazy about each other.”

  “Crazy, that’s for sure.” Flynn shook his head. “I like the marshal. A lot. We respect her, too. But if this is more serious than an easy bed bounce, what’s the end game? How do you guys end up together? Breaking a rule’s not that hard. Living with the repercussions of doing it is what gets tricky.”

  Kellan stared out at the choppy water. It wasn’t anywhere close to as choppy as the frenetic, off-kilter beat of his heart right now. Because he realized he’d just lied to his brothers. Again. When he said he was crazy about Delaney.

  That wasn’t true. He was in love with her. He’d been falling in love with her through all the months he watched her, noticed everything about her, and fought with her. Actually being with her just pushed him over the edge.

  One thing was sure. He couldn’t tell Rafe and Flynn before he told Delaney. And he had no idea when she’d be able to hear it. She was crazy skittish just at the thought of dating. So Kellan locked that brand-new, startling revelation in the back recess of his brain. Calmly, he said, “I’m working on a plan.”

  That lie was as big as Lake Michigan. Between changing jobs and driving all over the state to steal time with Delaney, Kellan had been busy. And when he was with Delaney, the last thing he wanted to do was hash out depressing what-ifs.

  They still had time. It was only July 19. The trial wasn’t until October.

  Plenty of time.

  So why did his gut clench just thinking
about it?

  Rafe cracked his neck. Rolled his shoulders. Stepped farther out onto the sand, like he needed room to breathe before continuing. “You know, Flynn and I promised that we’d never lie to you again.”

  Uh-oh. Cautiously, Kellan said with a nod of his head, “I appreciate it.”

  “Guess we left out one important thing.” He crouched, and used his finger to draw two lines that met in a V shape. “Kellan, you need to promise that you won’t lie to us again.” Then he drew another line, connecting all three. “We can only stay safe by fully trusting each other.”

  Shit. They were right.

  But it meant launching another truth bomb. He locked his hands behind his head and let out a big sigh. “Then I guess I should mention that I got a new job. A month ago. Now I can promise not to lie to you with a clean conscience.”

  Flynn clapped him on the back, with a big-ass smile. “That’s great. Why didn’t you tell us?”

  “What is it?” There it was again, that instant recognition by Rafe of the need to be suspicious. Man, he must’ve been one hell of a mobster.

  Kellan had thought about how he’d tell them, eventually. After all, he’d had a month to come up with a way that would piss them off the least. Easing into the news was the key. “It won’t fully kick in until after the trial, but I’m getting a head start there. Sort of unofficially taking it for a test drive. In the meantime, I’ve been helping Lucien on the side with a PR reboot for the resort.”

  Rafe held up one hand, palm out. “Quit stalling. What the hell’s your new job?”

  Shit. Okay. “I’m going to be a deputy in the Sheriff’s Department. I’ll join the training class up in Eugene in the fall. Since Mateo’s so short staffed, until then I’m subbing in. Like a much better paid intern.”

  In a flashback to five minutes ago, two sets of blue eyes blinked at him, while identical jaws dropped. Flynn recovered first. His brows came together in almost a single line of confusion. “Why’ve you lied about it, hidden it from us, for a month?”

  “Did you lie to us to get even?” Rafe demanded.

  It was tempting to say yes. They’d certainly earned that treatment after fifteen years of lies about the mob.

  But no, he’d promised to tell the truth. Petty vengeance had nothing to do with it. “I didn’t tell you because I didn’t know how to tell you. Because I thought you’d hate me.”

  “When have we ever been anything but proud of you, K?”

  Not the point. Following Rafe’s lead, he drew a long line in the sand that put Flynn and Rafe on one side, and himself on the other. “I’m joining the opposite team. Putting on a white hat and chasing down the bad guys.”

  Flynn pulled him in for a rough hug, followed up by three slaps on the back. “Way to go, K. I can’t think of anyone more qualified. Except for maybe a Navy Seal. Or an army sniper. A ranger?” A proud grin split his face in half as he said it.

  Rafe looked up at the web of stars in the inky sky. “It’s not an excuse when Flynn and I say that we showed up just to get a paycheck in the mob. It’s the truth. We didn’t see a way out. But we probably didn’t look hard enough, either. We never got a thrill out of threatening people, or breaking the law.” He swung back around to look at Kellan, to reveal the naked honesty in his expression. “It took some getting used to, but I’m damn happier living on the right side of it.”

  “Me, too,” Flynn added swiftly.

  “Even if we were still neck deep in McGinty’s crew? I’d say the same thing—I couldn’t be more fucking proud of you, Kellan. The job requires a man who’s brave and caring and smart. The people of Bandon will be lucky to have you protecting them.”

  Emotion clawed its way up Kellan’s throat from his heart. Luckily, he didn’t have to try and get words past it, because Rafe grabbed him in a giant bear hug. The kind they only shared once a year when they’d visited their parents’ graves.

  The kind they hadn’t shared at all since leaving Chicago.

  Flynn let out a yell, ran the few steps to them, and leapt onto Rafe’s back. It toppled them over in a pile onto the sand. Kellan gave a strong push with his foot, and they rolled in a weird, flailing, laughing mass down the dune to land on the damp flat sand at the shore.

  Almost all the rest of Kellan’s pent-up anger washed away with the next outgoing curl of tide. He had the best brothers in the world.

  “Hey, can I borrow your deputy uniform now and again?” Flynn asked as he pushed himself up to his elbows. “You know, for a role play with Sierra? The Big, Bad Cop and the Naughty Teacher?”

  “Pervert.” Rafe slapped a puddle at Flynn.

  “Really? This from the man who’s done Doc Mollie in more than half the hospital rooms?”

  “We did it in the X-ray room last week. That whole table moves up and down with a foot pedal. So useful.”

  Yeah. The best, idiotic, depraved, ridiculous, awesome brothers in the world. Nothing could go wrong as long as the three of them stuck together.

  Chapter Fourteen

  The special, “eyes-only” conference room in the Eugene field office of the U.S. Marshals didn’t have any one-way glass disguised as a mirror or discreet cameras in the corner. It was utterly plain.

  Delaney had explained that every field office had an identical room. That way, when they needed to bring in witnesses or protectees for a video conference, like today’s, it was impossible to discern anything about the location.

  That, and she’d cautioned/threatened Kellan about wearing anything Oregon, or even West Coast branded. He’d tried to make a joke that his bitching new tan would give away their location.

  She hadn’t appreciated it. Delaney had her marshal game face on, and humor wasn’t anywhere strapped onto her utility/weapons belt.

  Probably for the best. It’d help keep them from accidentally slipping into the role of boyfriend/girlfriend that felt so natural after almost two months together.

  Nah, that sounded too juvenile for what they had going.

  Lovers? Too middle-aged and smarmy.

  Consenting adults with a mutually shared and acted-upon attraction?

  When they checked into the target range in the basement before this meeting, she’d made him call her marshal, and Delaney had called him deputy. It’d been one hell of a kick to realize that wasn’t a cover. It was his new reality. Just as much as the hour they’d spent at the range, working on his aim.

  Kellan flexed his right hand in his lap, beneath the long metal conference table. The gun she’d given him didn’t have much of a kick, but his trigger finger and palm ached from repetition. He’d get better. Fast. And not just to be at the top of his training class.

  The days until the trial were trickling away faster than a handful of sand in the wind. If McGinty could find them—which was unlikely, yada yada yada—and was planning an attack, it’d come between now and October.

  Or back in the mean streets of Chicago. The odds were much higher that McGinty would make his move there. On his own territory. Get one of his few henchmen who hadn’t run away peeing themselves in fear of indictments, or who was not already jailed, to do it.

  When and if it happened? Kellan would be on guard. And he’d be damn well ready.

  One more flex, then Kellan reached for his water. They’d been in here for almost an hour already. It was a planning summit about getting the Maguire brothers physically to the trial.

  Kellan was here as the representative for the family. They’d learned quickly last November that Rafe didn’t do well when submerged in a sea of red tape and lawyer speak, surrounded by government agents. Kellan had taken over back then, and he was happy to do so now. It gave him the excuse to drive up to Eugene and see Delaney.

  Now, though? FBI agent Darius Hegger had mounted his high horse about some snitty way the marshals office had done him wrong on their last case. It was small and petty and off topic, and Kellan was done with it.

  He tapped the end of his pen against the yellow legal pad. “How
about we come back to our list of requests? When not actively testifying, the Mullaneys would prefer not to stay in the holding room.” Man, it was weird using their real last name again after all this time. “They want to remain in the court room. Strategically, it could be a smart move to keep McGinty off-balance.”

  “We came to the same conclusion.” State’s Attorney Linda Braunstein nodded over the iPad screen. “They won’t be at the prosecution’s table, but we’ll have seats for Ryan and Frank in the front row.”

  It was even more odd to hear their original names used, after all this time with their new identities. Kellan waggled his fingers in the air. “What about me? I know this is the trial of the century and the courtroom will be packed, but do I really have to sit behind them?”

  Under the table, Delaney’s foot pressed into the top of his. She wore her boring semi-uniform blue pumps, so it wasn’t a sexy stiletto gouging him, but it still hurt. What the hell?

  The reason became clear when Agent Hegger laughed. Threw back his shaved head and guffawed. There was a thin, mean slant to his lips when he looked back at them. “You mean you want us to waste a seat propping up an iPad so you can watch?”

  They thought he wouldn’t be there? That he wouldn’t support his brothers through this entire, horribly hard, brave event? Shit, even before they’d patched things up two weeks ago on the golf course, Kellan had always planned to be there for them. These federal agents didn’t understand what it meant to be a family at all.

  He flicked his pen against the screen. “Sorry to increase your official head count, but I’ll be there. If not next to Ryan and Frank, then in the back or wedged behind the flagpole, if necessary.”

  Linda frowned in her tiny window. She tugged at the discreet pearl stud in her ear. “Kieran, this is a change we didn’t expect. We have you down as not attending. Not only that, but with your own full protective detail and a temporary stay in a safe house for the duration of the trial.”

  “That’s bullshit. What is it—SOP for family members not testifying? Well, guess what? The Mullaneys don’t do things by the book. And it should’ve become abundantly clear to all of you over the past nine months that whatever we do, it’s with all three of us. Together.”