by AJ Sherwood
Ivan was ostensibly watching Remi and dropping her off at Kyou’s place every other day so the hacking lessons could continue. It was honestly a little scary how quickly she was picking things up. Kyou had been honest with Brannigan earlier, when he’s said that there was always someone better—in his case, he was absolutely certain Remi would be the one to outstrip him in time. He was more or less training his rival.
Kyou couldn’t be more proud of her, either.
His phone rang, and he answered it with a cheerful, “You guys finally done?”
“The next time someone tells me they just need surveillance on a target, I will stab them in the eye with a spoon.” Ari sounded perfectly willing to do the deed now.
“That much fun, huh? Too bad you owed Tricksy a favor.”
“Like hell I did. Ivan owed her the favor. How I got stuck with this, I do not know.”
“You got stuck with it because we don’t trust Ivan on long stakeouts anymore, remember?”
“Please don’t bring that back up. I’m still traumatized by it. It’s why I agreed to go instead of him. Carter’s the only reason I stayed sane on this.”
“Well, he’s also the one who’s got more practice at it.” And Carter’s patience was something else. Kyou had never met someone more patient. Fortunately. It had taken that patience to get through the many walls both Ari and Remi possessed.
“You sound like you’re outside right now?” Ari asked hopefully.
For once, Kyou could answer honestly. “I am. I’m going out for dinner.”
Ari sounded pleased. “Yeah? That’s great. What’s for dinner tonight?”
“Japanese. I’m debating sushi or not.” Kyou didn’t want to stay on this topic because it could potentially lead in a direction he didn’t want to go. “Hey, while I have you on the phone, I managed to finally find Remi’s birth mother.”
The assassin’s tone went from upbeat to flat in a split second. “Oh, did you? And where is she?”
“Still in Memphis. She finally got married this time.”
There was an audible hiccup. “What do you mean, finally? I thought she was married to the last creep.”
“Nope,” Kyou declared, popping the p. “Seems she was in the habit of shacking up with guys, never tying the knot. It was why it was so easy for her to abandon the last loser. This time, she’s managed to somehow land a man who actually makes a living. They got married about two months ago.”
“But Remi called that asshole her step-father. I assumed they were married.”
“Yeah, I did too. It was why it took a bit longer for me to find her. She kept adopting their names, too, although she never got it changed legally. She’d just sign as their wife. Real piece of work, this woman.”
“I’m still debating putting a bullet in her.”
“If you could see what I’ve been reading, you wouldn’t even be tempted. She’s the kind of woman who’s a self-fulling prophecy. She’s perfectly miserable where she is, and it’s mostly her fault. Two months in, the husband’s already cheating on her, and she’s hitting the bottle hard. It’ll actually serve justice more if you let her be miserable. A bullet would be a kindness.”
“Two months? Wow, that was a short honeymoon.”
“Pretty sure he was cheating on her before they even got married. But so was she, so…yeah, not a lot of sympathy there.” Kyou had reached the restaurant. It was fortunately not that far a walk from his apartment. He’d enjoyed stretching his legs, but this left him in a bit of a quandary. He wanted to be seated before Brannigan and the airheaded supermodel arrived. But if he walked in now, Ari would hear him talk to the hostess, which would give the game away. Kyou was not a reservations kind of person.
“Yeah, I’m having a hard time dredging up sympathy myself. But then, I don’t understand the cheating mentality at all. It was hard enough for me to find someone to date. Finding multiple people?”
“I’m with you, man. But then, dating’s not easy for any of us. I still find it a complete miracle Ivan got married.”
“You’re telling me.” Ari hesitated.
Sensing this was important, Kyou stepped to the side of the door and stayed there for a moment, lingering on the sidewalk. “What?”
“Carter and I both picked up on something. Remi settled, like visibly settled, when Ivan and Aiden got married. It was like seeing them married gave her a sense of security that they would be alright. I thought it strange, because her mother jumped from one guy to the next, so why would seeing anyone married affect her like that? But if her mother was never married…it makes sense.”
“Yeah. She still sees marriage as a permanent thing. If they’re married, they can’t leave each other. That’s likely how she sees it.” Kyou had an idea of where this was going, but waited for Ari to say it.
“Carter and I’ve talked about getting married. Talked about it quite a few times. We were worried about how Remi would take it.”
“Is that the only thing stopping you?”
“Yeah, pretty much. We’re solid. No way in hell we’re breaking up, ever. But we both want that commitment, those vows. We just don’t know how Remi would take it. But if she likes the idea of marriage, then…”
“I think you need to sit her down, both of you, and talk about this. I think you’ll be surprised at how eager she’ll be to have you two married.”
Ari blew out a long breath. “Yeah. I might be overthinking this. I do that a lot with her. Alright, well, we’ll talk to her about it when we get home. We’re crashing at a hotel tonight, coming home in the morning. Anything else been happening while we’re gone?”
“Naw, nothing momentous. Just same ol’ same ol’.”
“So your guy is still doing things that gives you grey hairs, you’re still stalking him, and you’re still spending eighteen-hour days in your computer chair, is what you’re saying.”
“The man inspires my inner serial killer sometimes. He really does. Anyway, I’m fine. Just hungry. Go be horizontal for a while.”
“Music to my ears. Call if something comes up.”
“Sure, sure. Night.” Relieved he’d gotten Ari off the phone, Kyou pocketed it and went inside. The hostess took his name and showed him to his table, a small round one with a snowy white tablecloth. Kyou had even worn a suit for tonight, as this wasn’t the kind of restaurant you could wear jeans into. He felt a little posh sitting there, perusing the menu and having a sample glass of wine extended as a complimentary service.
Maybe he should treat himself to a nice dinner more often.
Ari and Carter married, huh? Honestly, Kyou had expected them to be married before Ivan and Aiden. Those two were joined at the hip. Neither of them would take jobs without the other anymore. But their worry over Remi made sense, in a way. She didn’t always react in a predictable fashion. But Kyou was pretty sure she’d be over the moon if they tied the knot.
Kyou placed his order—sushi had won—and sat back. Brannigan would enter any second. Kyou was perhaps a touch more excited about this than he should be. Normally he saw Brannigan at weird angles via a security cam. It was rare that he got to see him in real life like this, mostly because Kyou didn’t dare get that close most of the time. He still wasn’t sure what had prompted him to come out tonight. He’d just found the idea of sitting at home, watching this train wreck from afar, to be unappealing. After ten minutes of fidgeting, unable to settle, he’d made a reservation without questioning himself too deeply.
And there he was. Kyou felt a little flutter in his chest seeing his quarry. Ah, damn. Every time he did this, he remembered why he shouldn’t. It was far too tempting to do it again. And tonight, especially, would push the restraints of his control.
Brannigan Genovese looked downright hot tonight in the dark-grey, three-piece suit he wore like it was tailored to him. (It likely was.) Every strand of his dark hair was styled in a loose wave, suiting the strong, masculine lines of his face, and there was a smile etched onto his lips. A very straine
d smile.
Ouch. Date was going that bad already, huh? Kyou bit down on a cackle.
His date certainly looked the part of a supermodel. She was tall and thin, her immaculate blonde hair draped over her shoulder in a curling waterfall, every trace of makeup perfectly done to emphasize her high cheekbones and smoky blue eyes. She wore an off-the-shoulder dress that seemed to be giving her some trouble staying up. Or at least, she kept ‘stealthily’ rearranging her boobs in the top.
If she was trying to draw Brannigan’s attention there, it wasn’t working. The man was steadfastly looking anywhere else. Kyou could have told her Brannigan wasn’t a boobs man. He could and did appreciate an attractive person, but that wasn’t his primary focus. He was pan-sapiosexual, in fact, and it was why Kyou kept maintaining that asking out shallow people wouldn’t work for him. Brannigan seemed to feel social pressure to date, so he asked out anyone that people deemed attractive, but it backfired every time. He needed to find someone he found attractive, which was a very different kettle of fish.
The two sat, the model leaning forward to emphasize her boobs. Again. Brannigan focused on the menu so hard, it was like the man believed life’s source code could be found within its pages.
Unable to resist, Kyou took out the spare burner phone in his pocket and texted him: Need me to rescue you yet?
Brannigan took his phone out, read the message, and grimaced. He did not reply before slipping it back into his pocket.
The model started chattering about some inane thing, and Brannigan looked steadily at her, as if he were paying attention. But his eyes also glazed over. She could be talking about how Stonehenge was in fact a giant Nintendo screen, and it would have gone right past the man.
Kyou’s phone buzzed and he picked up the call, although he kept his voice down. He was, after all, only four tables over. “Hey, princess.”
“Hey. Where are you? I want to come over.”
“Yeah, I’m out right now.”
“You’re out?” Remi asked suspiciously. “Why?”
“I’m at dinner. Well, dinner and a show.”
There was an evil cackle. “You followed Brannigan out on his date, didn’t you?”
“I did not say that,” Kyou said, feigning innocence.
“Uncle Ivan! Uncle Kyou’s stalking Brannigan on his date again!”
Kyou spluttered. Again?! He’d never stalked a date in person before. Doing it virtually didn’t count. “Anyway, I can’t play right now. I’ll be home in an hour or so. You can meet up with me later, if you still want to come.”
Something suspiciously like a giggle came out of her mouth. “Okay. Tell me how the date went.”
“Why do I like you, again?”
“It’s ’cause I’m cute.”
“Yeah, Ivan’s definitely rubbing off on you. Be good. See you later.” Shaking his head, Kyou hung up and put the phone back in his pocket. He started in on the sushi—which was quite excellent—keeping a weather eye on the other table. Supermodel was still talking, hands flapping about her head. Brannigan wasn’t even pretending to pay attention to her.
The burner phone buzzed with a text. Have you ever been on a date and thought, dying alone doesn’t sound that bad?
Kyou almost spat out the wine in his mouth. It was hard not to laugh out loud. He texted back with one hand, I can still trigger the fire alarm for you.
You know, the penalty for it actually sounds worth it right now, Brannigan texted back.
He did look pretty desperate.
Kyou debated between taking pity on him and letting him suffer. Kyou had, after all, warned him that this was a bad idea. Eventually, pity won out. He texted back, Give me 5 min. I’m going to call you screaming. Take that as your excuse and run for it.
Kyou calmly called for his bill, put a few twenties into it, then left his table. He retreated outside before clearing his throat. Brannigan answered on the first ring. Kyou did his best impression of general screaming without going into a falsetto.
He could hear Brannigan’s deeper baritone hastily telling his date, “I’m so sorry about this, something has obviously happened, I need to go. Here, use this to pay for dinner and a Lyft home, okay? Sorry, sorry.”
Kyou stopped the screaming as it was clear he was away from the table. He started walking away from the door since Brannigan would be through it any second. “See? Didn’t I tell you that it was a bad idea?”
“Oh god, was it ever. I didn’t think she’d be that shallow.” Brannigan’s voice became clearer as he exited the front door, a scurrying quality to his stride. “I mean, she’s an advocate for two different nonprofit organizations.”
“Yeah, man, that just means she’s got really good PR people. Next time, have more than a ten-minute conversation with a person before you ask them out, okay?”
There was a pause.
A little concerned, Kyou asked, “Bran? You still with me?”
“I can hear you.”
Shit. Kyou had started walking away from the door when it was clear Brannigan was away from the table. He’d assumed with all of the pedestrian traffic around him, Brannigan wouldn’t be able to hear him. Shit, shit, shit this really had been a bad idea. Why had he convinced himself it wasn’t? Kyou knew better, he really did. His control slipped that bit more every time he came in close, and clearly this time he’d crossed the line and lingered when he shouldn’t have.
“You were here tonight, weren’t you?” Brannigan demanded incredulously. “You were sitting at the same restaurant, somewhere nearby. Dammit, K. If you’re willing to come that close, then why can’t I meet you in person?”
Kyou carefully didn’t turn his head, didn’t give any indication he was more than an innocent person just walking along the sidewalk, talking on the phone. He was afraid that Brannigan was heading his direction, though. It took effort to not quicken his pace. He used all of Ivan’s tricks when it came to blending in with a crowd. “That’s not exactly safe, Brannigan.”
“The hell with that,” Brannigan shot back. “I’m the son of a former mafia boss, you think I live in a golden cage? That I’m somehow going to be trouble for you just because of your line of work?”
“Look, it’s…” Kyou wavered. Dammit, he shouldn’t have gone out tonight. He should have let Brannigan suffer from his poor life decisions. He just had no willpower where the man was concerned. And it had been so long since he’d seen Brannigan in person, he’d just wanted a bit of time to look at him. Innocent enough, but look at the consequences. “It’s not just you I’m protecting. I’ve got others I look out for too.”
A startled beat. “You’re not alone?”
“No. Why, did you think I was?” Good, he was going a different direction now.
“Yeah. You struck me as a lone wolf.”
“I started out that way. Not anymore.”
“I’m glad to hear it. Honestly, K. I was worried about what would happen if anyone ever caught up to you. But can’t I be one of those people you trust? Do you really think that if I meet you and your inner circle, it’ll be a disaster?”
“I don’t know,” Kyou admitted heavily. “And that’s the problem.”
3
Brannigan
Brannigan went home in a perfectly foul mood.
The date had been a disaster, but he honestly didn’t care about it. He’d never let his friend set him up on a date ever again, but that was neither here nor there. No, what pissed him off was that K had been close. The same restaurant, no less.
And Brannigan hadn’t had the faintest clue.
He whipped off suitcoat and tie, throwing them violently onto his bedroom chair. He was normally neater with his possessions, but tonight throwing things felt good. He jerked his vest off hard enough that a button pinged somewhere, then threw that for good measure. He stood in the center of his room, fists clenched at his sides, panting under the force of his anger.
K had abruptly hung up on him earlier. The last words he’d spoken lingered in
Brannigan’s ears: That’s the problem. Those words curled in his gut like poison. Brannigan admittedly did silly things sometimes just to make K call him. Tonight’s date was a good example. He’d known he wasn’t attracted to her—but he’d asked her out with the hopes that K would call him. That they could talk. It’d worked, too. But even with the absurd things he did, surely K knew that Brannigan was trustworthy? That he’d never, ever do anything to jeopardize the man.
Hell, shouldn’t K have figured out by now that Brannigan harbored a serious crush on him?
It was absurd. He knew it was absurd, to crush so hard on a person he’d never even met face to face. Brannigan blamed K utterly for it. The man was charming, he was extremely competent, and sometimes his dry humor tickled Brannigan so badly he’d laugh on and off all day after they talked. He wasn’t sure when the crush had started. Maybe two years ago, when he caught himself daydreaming of meeting K face to face? Or perhaps a little over a year ago, when he found himself talking to people and wishing he was talking to K instead?
Who knew exactly when it started. He did know that his crush was digging its heels in instead of cooling off. It was like he’d been in an extremely drawn-out, long-term online relationship. In fact, that’s exactly how it felt to him most days. God, the ridiculous things he did on a regular basis just to get K to call him—it was so obvious. If Brannigan had even the slightest inkling of how to find K, he’d have done it already. Done it and figured out if there was any chemistry between them. K’s refusal to meet felt like a rejection and it hit him deep in the gut where it stewed and churned like lava and brimstone.
His phone rang. Brannigan put both hands over his face, breathing in deeply, calming his temper. Then he answered it. “Hi, Papà.”
“Brannigan,” his father answered in his gravelly, warm voice. There was no doubt in anyone’s mind that Mattias Genovese loved his children. It was clear in his voice every time he spoke to them. “How was tonight’s date?”
