“You don’t.” It was said simply, without inflection.
And those two words hit Kyou straight in the heart, inflicting damage as they tore their way through. He flinched under them.
The phone was abruptly yanked out of his hand. Kyou spun, making a grab for it, but of course Ari was able to dance away and keep out of reach of him. Damn the man for being in both better shape and quicker.
“Brannigan, I’m Malvagio,” Ari introduced himself with a weather eye on Kyou. He put the call on speaker. “I’m one of K’s family. Has he mentioned us at all?”
There was a beat of silence, and one could almost hear how startled Brannigan was. “Nice to meet you, Malvagio. And yes, he’s mentioned that he has an inner circle, people he protects. I’ve never heard more than that.”
“He’s highly protective of us. I grabbed the phone from him because I want to ask you a question and clear the air a little. K seems to think that—”
“Malvagio, for the love of god!” Kyou burst out in frustration, leaping for the phone again.
“—he’ll do nothing but bring trouble to your door if he meets you out in the open,” Ari continued smoothly, as if he wasn’t playing keep-away with the phone. “Because of his own criminal activities, he’s afraid of what’ll happen.”
“That’s because he’s an overthinker, and he’s overprotective,” Brannigan rejoined with a huff of exasperation. “I don’t believe that at all. Can he hear me?”
“Yes, I’ve got you on speaker.”
“K, you really think that?”
“I know it,” Kyou ground out between clenched teeth. “And I won’t fucking risk you.”
“Malvagio. You’re closer. Do me a favor and smack him for me.”
Ari got that gleam in his eye that spoke of mayhem. Usually Ivan was their troublemaker, but Ari had his moments too. “With pleasure.”
“If you’re speaking to me, then can I assume that you, too, find this ridiculous?”
“We do. But K’s a bit shy—”
“SHY?!” Kyou screeched in outrage. “I AM NOT SHY!”
“And an introvert, and frankly, getting him out of the apartment takes either a disaster or an act of God, so we’re also not surprised he’s been so slow to move.”
“I hate all of you,” Kyou announced flatly. Then made another dive for the phone.
And missed, because an assassin’s reflexes were much better than a hacker’s.
“Anyway, we’re all rooting for you,” Ari said, smile purely evil. “We’ll do what we can from here to shove him out the door.”
“Thank you. I’m waiting for him.”
Ari ended the call and tossed the phone to Kyou. Fuming, he caught it, continuing to glare at the assassin.
“That,” Kyou stated coldly, “was unnecessary.”
“My friend, sometimes you have to take the risk.” Ari was still smug but somehow sympathetic as well. “I realize it’s scary to put yourself out there. You think I don’t know? But I think in this case, your fears are hampering you.”
Snarling obscene words—in Mong, because Mong was the most satisfying for swearing—Kyou stomped over to the desk. Remi had vacated the chair, and he curled into it, much like a cat into its favorite perch, ready to ignore the rest of the apartment.
Sighing, Ari gathered up his daughter and they left without another word to him. Kyou sat there and stared blankly at the computer screen, still fuming. Busybodies. He was surrounded by them. Kyou had excellent reasons for keeping his distance from Brannigan, damn it. It wasn’t that he wanted to, he just had to.
And that’s all there was to it.
Outside Kyou’s apartment door, Ari looked down at his daughter. “So…did you memorize Brannigan’s number?”
“And last name,” she told him proudly.
Ari gave her a high five. “That’s my girl.”
Remi beamed at him proudly. “What are we going to do?”
“All the things, gattina. But first, let’s check in with your other father, and Uncle Ivan. I’m sure they’ll want in on this.”
5
Brannigan
Brannigan was beyond surprised to hear from not one, but two of K’s family in the same day. After years of not hearing anything about them, of not knowing anything of K’s motivations, this stunned him. But it also signified that things were finally changing. K had relaxed his guard some, enough that Brannigan had a chance to glimpse what his life was like outside of hacking. It thrilled him.
And he hoped to God this signified a good change and not the reverse.
Nothing else happened that day, aside from K sending him an email with a list of potential people in the Irish Mob’s books. It was a good starting point, so Brannigan took that list with him into Roxbury the next day.
Roxbury had a small pocket that was respectable, but it was slowly losing out to the crime eating away at that section of the city. Brannigan rarely drove by himself through this area for the simple reason it was dangerous to do so. But today, he felt like living a bit dangerously. At four o’clock he left the office with the list, intending only to drop it off and chat with the head loan officer there about possibly contacting these people with an offer to buy out their high interest loan for something more reasonable.
The loan office was a small thing, taking up an old building, and very much temporary. Brannigan made several mental notes about getting them into a more permanent structure even as he did his quick in-and-out. His hope was to get them into a better building sometime in the next six months.
That accomplished, he almost went home for the day, but some instinct prompted him to go to the construction site on Walnut Park. The Mob was doing low-level harassment and some vandalism of the building projects. It wouldn’t hurt to swing by, make sure tht things were okay. Two of the apartment complexes there had been on the verge of being condemned due to water damage and age. They were still in the process of finding people temporary housing, moving the residents out until he could get the apartments renovated. Some of them had been standing for decades, so Brannigan would prefer not to tear them down completely. But last he checked, they were still finding problems during the interior demolition.
Swinging into the parking lot, he put his old work truck into park, locking it absently as he got out. When driving around in questionable areas, he never drove his nice cars. The truck was for situations like this one. Frankly, even if someone hit it, he wouldn’t be able to find the new dent. As he walked onto the site, his eyes catalogued the area. The townhomes were all squashed together, sharing walls, each unit a different color. This was an older complex dating from the sixties, and it hadn’t aged well. Half of them were vacant, the other half still occupied. He was greeted with suspicious eyes from the residents, people who held their bodies in a defensive posture, tracking his movements but without a word to say. Trust was hard won here. But then, these people had been burned many times.
Brannigan would have to prove his good intentions over and over before anyone believed him. But that was alright. He had time.
Stepping through the first open door he saw, he looked around carefully. Work had obviously been done here, and was still in progress, as they were down to studs. Hearing the knocks and bangs of things being ripped out, he headed that direction. “Hello!”