“In part,” Kyou admitted freely.
“Makes total sense. I’m not blaming you. Am I the only one you’re contracting with?”
“No, you’re one of three.”
“Hmmm. Guess that’s reasonable. We’re all going to hear different things.” Tricksy’s eyes went down to the little girl still standing at her side. There was a moment when fierce determination flashed across her face. “You know, kiddo, I won’t let anything happen to these guys. I know what it’s like to lose family, and you’re not living through that hell.”
Remi wrapped both her hands around Tricksy’s hand and swore, “We’ll protect you, too.”
Her blue eyes softened as she stroked hair back from Remi’s face. “Thanks, kiddo. Nice to know it goes both ways. Okay, guys, walk me through exactly what you need. Remi and I have shopping to get to.”
Kyou felt that the meeting with Tricksy went well. It went well enough, at least, that when Brannigan suggested meeting the family for dinner, Kyou agreed. And that was a landmark event Brannigan never thought would actually happen.
He arranged it for Friday, partially because he still had the aftermath in Roxbury to deal with. Partially because Kyou needed to get things properly set up and rolling, and that required space to work in. It was nice, having his lover’s voice in his ear and getting the usual texts and emails from him as Kyou updated him on things during the work day. It was even better to be able to just pick up the phone and call him.
Brannigan may have abused that ability a little.
Come Friday, Brannigan was in high spirits. It seemed everything was finally going right for him, and he really couldn’t be happier. He swung by Kyou’s apartment with the intention of picking him up. The family dinner with the Genoveses was set, and he knew his father was beyond excited to finally meet the man himself.
He entered with only a knock, calling out as he came inside, “Kyou, I’m here! Are you ready?”
“One second!” Kyou called back from his bedroom. “Do I need to wear a tie?”
“I said wear something nice, not go formal,” Brannigan responded, already shaking his head. Kyou was very nervous about this whole thing. And yes, this was a dinner party, but it wasn’t something that required black tie. He ducked into the bedroom to find his lover glaring at the tie in his hand.
Kyou cleaned up very, very well. He looked incredibly sharp in the black suit, with his hair styled in a sweep from his forehead. Downright lickable, really. Brannigan’s fingers twitched with the urge to strip that suit right back off of him. Brannigan had a compliment lurking in his mouth, but he couldn’t voice it because, at the sight of him standing like this, it hit him that he’d seen this very image before. “Holy shit.”
Looking down at himself, Kyou seemed bewildered by this reaction. “What? I’m wearing pants!”
“Holy shit,” Brannigan breathed, the memory flying through his mind. “The date you crashed. You were literally sitting four tables from me.”
Kyou startled, staring back at him with wide eyes. “You noticed me?”
“A hot man sitting nearby looking like a damn model without a date at the table? You bet I noticed you. I kept wishing I was on the date with you instead of what’s-her-face. And it was you the entire time. Damn. I really should have just gotten up and gone to your table.”
“I would have had heart failure if you’d done that.” A smile lifted Kyou’s face. He seemed delighted that, even then, Brannigan had noticed him. “I thought I was being incognito.”
“You are far too cute to ever pull off incognito.” Brannigan shook his head at the thought. “Now, come on. We’re going to be late.”
Kyou went amiably enough, his hand in Brannigan’s as they left the apartment and rode the elevator down. But there was a frown on his face and he kept checking his phone.
Knowing the signs, Brannigan sighed. “Out with it. What’s wrong?”
Sighing, Kyou shoved his phone back into his pocket even as the elevator dinged. “Tricksy texted me about a half hour ago. She’d heard something, and it may be our not-so-friendly stalker. It might not. We’re still pinning that down, but it spells trouble either way.”
“On a scale of one to ten, how troublesome is this going to be?”
“Maybe a six? Let me back up and tell you the story from the beginning. I don’t think you know how Carter joined us.”
Brannigan shook his head. He hadn’t heard this story yet; he just knew Carter was the one who’d instigated them forming an official team. He led them out of the small elevator room in the parking garage, heading for his own car parked near the front entrance.
“Right, so about two years or so ago, Carter was approached by a broker to reclaim a stolen painting. A Monet, to be precise. It was illegally housed in a very, very secure vault, and the museum it belonged to wanted it back. Carter took the job but knew very well he didn’t have the necessary skillset. He’d heard, though, that two men had gotten into this vault before—Ari and Ivan. Ivan he couldn’t track down, but he managed to find Ari and pitched the job to him. Ari pulled us in, as it took all three of us to do that particular job.” A reminiscent smile softened Kyou’s face. “The job was a freaking pain from start to finish, but that’s when Ari and Carter fell for each other. Anyway, the broker who initially contacted Carter was not a good one. We’d had a run-in with him before, and the man was basically a scam artist. Mid-job, we belatedly realized that it was the same guy.”
Brannigan opened the door on the passenger side for Kyou, riveted by this account. “Was he using a different name?”
“Different name, different photo on the website. He’d burned too many people, see, and he had to change up his profile and do everything remote so people wouldn’t put it together. But of course, we did. Thankfully before the job was done.” Kyou eyed him holding the door open. “Are you seriously opening a door for me?”
“Because I’m a gentleman.” Brannigan said with amusement. “No one’s ever opened a door for you?”
“Well, no.” Kyou slid into the car with the air of a man who expected a snake to leap out and bite him.
Brannigan let this go. He’d get Kyou used to being taken care of at some point. It was just a work in progress at the moment. Jogging around, he slid into the driver’s side before prompting, “So you didn’t finish the job with the broker.”
“No.” Kyou clicked his seatbelt in place and settled back into the conversation. “Technically, we’re supposed to deliver the goods to the broker, and the broker turns that in and collects the payment from the client, then disperses our take to us. But see, that’s what went wrong last time working with the guy. He didn’t give us a fair cut and took the lion’s share for himself. There was no way in hell we were going to turn anything over to him. So Ari and Carter delivered the painting back to the client themselves. I handled the money transfer. We did pay Emura—the broker—because we didn’t want to get in trouble with the job site admins. They keep things regulated and fair, and it’s bad news if you do a double-cross. But I did report Emura and explain what he’d done. The site admins were not happy. He’s now permanently banned from posting or taking jobs. I don’t think he even has viewing access anymore.”