Brannigan looked both ways before pulling out of the parking garage. His mind churned as he took in this story, putting all the facts together. “So, in other words, Emura can’t work as a broker anymore.”
“Well, he can, but he’s having to work with some seriously sketchy people. People I wouldn’t touch with a ten-foot pole and a loaded gun. The site admins make sure there’s a layer of…protection? Rules, anyway, to keep things from getting really gnarly. Emura doesn’t have that safety net anymore, and he’s completely on his own. It’s the sort of lifestyle that leads to coffins in short order.” Kyou sighed wearily, head turning to look aimlessly out of the window. “Cutting him out of a quick payout was bad enough, but he’s apparently more upset that he’s now banned. No more easy jobs or marks for him to scam. I know he’s been looking for us ever since that job. Tricksy reported to me he’s been really digging the past two days. We made enough of a wave up here that people picked up on the story. I’ve taken precautions against him finding us, but…”
“But you think he’s going to find us anyway.” Brannigan frowned. That didn’t sound good at all. “What can he do?”
Kyou snorted. “What can’t he do? Depends on how mad he is. And how far he’s willing to push things to get revenge. I’m having a hard time tracking him right now because he’s staying very, very low profile.”
“So what you’re saying is, you’re not sure where he is, what he’s planning, or what his resources are.”
“Basically. You can see why I’m a little worried. And I suspect he’s the very guy who’s been ghosting, looking for us.” Softly, Kyou pleaded, “So let’s take some precautions, okay?”
“We’ll take precautions.” Brannigan shot him a firm look. “But that doesn’t mean either of us are hiding. We can’t turn ostrich every time a boogeyman starts making threatening noises.”
“I know, I know. I’m not suggesting that. But I do want to put in some extra security measures, just in case. I really don’t know when or how this guy is going to hit us.”
“That’s fine. We’ll talk about what to do after dinner tonight.”
Kyou looked around and seemed to realize in that moment that they were in his parents’ neighborhood. His expression changed from worried to slightly panicked. “Oh. Um…”
“You were so focused on the other problem that you didn’t think about the dinner tonight,” Brannigan guessed wryly.
“I, uh, maybe did that? Bran, with all that’s happened, maybe dinner tonight—”
“Dinner tonight is happening.” Brannigan knew he had to put his foot down now. Kyou was nervous about this meeting and would never agree to actually reschedule it. He’d postpone it until the grave. But if Brannigan could just get him through this initial meeting, and prove that Kyou’s fears were groundless, then they’d be over this hurdle with no problem. And while Brannigan liked Kyou’s family, he wanted to prove to his lover that his family of choice weren’t the only ones who wanted Kyou.
Kyou didn’t see it that way yet. He gulped nervously. “You sure?”
“Trust me, caro. Tonight will go very well.”
18
Kyou
Kyou regarded the house—mansion was a more accurate term—in front of him and seriously considered bolting. Changing his name, disappearing for a decade, and maybe guzzling some sake. Cold sweat pooled at the base of his spine. He, of all people, was meeting the parents.
There was something cosmically out of alignment in the universe.
Brannigan’s warm hand slid around his waist, hugging him into his side. He leaned in to speak in a confidential tone, “Caro, you look like someone just walked across your grave. Then did it again just for kicks. There’s no need to be nervous.”
Kyou shot him an incredulous look because that was such a lie, he didn’t even know where to begin.
His lover’s face scrunched up a little as if he were trying not to show amusement. He failed. Badly. “I’ve seen you take out the Irish Mob with a smile on your face, and this unnerves you?”
“Excuse you very much, I didn’t care if the Irish Mob liked me. I could blow them to hell. Here, I have to be charming, and you do remember that my social skills are practically nonexistent?” Yeah, this whole thing was a bad idea. Kyou should save them all the embarrassment and just cancel, go back to his apartment, and hide in that mythical blanket fort he hadn’t built yet.
“Caro,” Brannigan said with a deep well of patience, “I know that in-person isn’t your strong suit. But remember that my parents already like you.”
Kyou frowned up at him. “They do?”
“You’ve been guarding their children for six years; of course they do. My father’s been very excited to meet you. The man’s pestering me on a near hourly basis. My mother’s a little harder to read, but even she’s texted me twice to make sure she serves food you’ll like.”
That settled his nerves. By about five percent, maybe six.
With that arm still around his waist, Brannigan hauled him up the steps leading to the front door. Kyou went along in spite of his better judgement. This was going to go so poorly.
The door opened before they could reach it, and Isabella appeared with a bright smile on her face. “There you are. Well, damn, Kyou. You are handsome. I see why Bran’s been so smug, now.”
Kyou flushed a little under the compliment. He’d put on the one suit he had, the same he’d worn to Brannigan’s train wreck of a date. He knew he looked good in it, but the way both siblings had reacted made him feel like he was a notch above ‘good.’ “Thank you.”
She reached out, grabbing his hand and giving it a squeeze. Isabella didn’t really look like her brother in many respects. They were superficially alike with the same lean, graceful build and olive skin tone. But in this moment, with that warm affection on her face, she looked startlingly like him. “I’m so very glad to finally meet you in person. Let’s make this a regular thing, alright?”
Kyou gave her a more genuine smile. “I’d like that very much.”
“Good. Come in. Papà is beside himself, he’s so excited. Mom’s threatened to sit on him several times.” Isabella turned and led the way in.
The foyer was damn impressive with the Italian marble columns, the highly polished tile floors, and the multi-million-dollar art casually decorating both walls. Kyou found himself automatically cataloguing every visible doorway, the back of his mind charting out an escape route, and he mentally slapped himself. This wasn’t a place he needed to run from. Old habits died hard, apparently.
They went into the room directly to the right of the front door.
Two people stood waiting on them. Of course, Kyou knew them both, although they’d never met. Mattias Genovese was the epitome of a gracefully aged gentleman, his hair now silvery in tone and softly brushed away from his face. There were more than a few wrinkles, but they only showcased the striking apple-green eyes in his face. He was incandescent with delight, practically shining under the force of it like a beacon.