Chapter One
One year ago
“This is who Cole wants dead.” Cai handed Rachel his phone, leaving three paint splotches on the sides. “His name is Julian Thompson.” He grabbed a rag off the ladder and cleaned his fingers.
“Hot. Not Captain Latin America levels, obvi, but I’d bang him.” She scrolled through Julian’s social media pics. “Girlfriends. Oh, wait. Boyfriends, too. An equal opportunity banger.” She wrinkled her nose and squinted. “Hashtag Afghanistan? The fuck?” She stood up and turned his phone toward him. “He’s a war journalist! How you gonna—”
“Shh. She’ll hear you.” Cai checked behind them, but other than tossing contemptuous glances at Rachel, the secretary barely looked their way. Not that he could blame her for trying to keep the lobby presentable. The army of pretentious lawyers tolerated Cai because they’d hired him to paint the mural. Rachel just hung around between classes, lying on the sofa with her pink hair clashing against the black leather.
“Anyway,” Cai continued, “Julian posted that he’d be home soon.” He leaned over to swipe his screen. “See here? These are the places he hangs out. When he gets back—”
“These are in London.” Rachel swiveled to a sitting position. “Are we going there?”
We? Uh oh. “You want to go?” Want was a touchy word with Rach. Where he went, she went, determined to make up for something that wasn’t her fault. No matter how many times he forgave her, she couldn’t forgive herself. He didn’t want to rehash that argument, but he didn’t think it was a great idea to bring her to London—where he needed to be discreet. “It’s gonna be a long trip,” Cai said. “It’s not just go there, tell him, and then come home. Once he’s on our side, we’ll need months of planning for what’s next. Maybe even more than a year. You sure you can miss that much school?”
“Hells yeah.”
Cai needed to approach Julian while simultaneously avoiding attention from Walter Cole’s goons. Rach had some basic hacking skills that could prove useful, but she had no filter and acted on every thought. If she alienated Julian with a tirade about male privilege and the patriarchy, or did something worse, like... “You can’t just run off and shoot someone this time,” he warned her. “That’s why we’re in this mess. We can’t arouse suspicion. I just want to warn Julian that Cole is a threat and get him on our side.”
“I’ll be good.” Her face said otherwise. She batted her lashes and smiled broadly, then rolled her eyes when he just stared. “Okay fine. I’ll be good, for real. Not that London doesn’t sound super-duper exciting, but why don’t you just call him or, like, slip into his DMs?”
“Because if he doesn’t believe me, he can block future messages. Has to be in person where we can talk to him without being seen. We’ll have to discreetly lure him somewhere.”
“Geez you make things complicated. Knock on his door?”
“No. If Julian thinks we’re crazy or gets angry, he could call the police, or yell at me. If Cole’s men are watching him, they’ll hear all of that. No one knows who we are. We need to keep it that way.”
“No shooting. No yelling. No fun. Okay, then, genius, what’s your plan?”
The thought of the ‘plan’, such as it was, brought a heated blush to his face. “I thought...if he wanted...if he wanted to be alone...with me… for… well, I could…” Ugh. Just say it.
“Oh,” Rachel said with a cackle that attracted the receptionist’s glare. “I get it. Arousing suspicion. You think you’re going to—” Her suppressed giggle made a scraping sound in her throat. “You’ll set yourself on fire from blushing before you can seduce him.” She made a puppet mouth with her fist. “Hi, I’m a pile of ash, do you find me sexy?”
“Funny,” Cai said. “I’m not gonna do anything with him. Just pretend I’m willing. That would give us an opportunity to get him to our hotel or his place without looking suspicious. Moot point anyway. Look at the men and women he dates. You and I are not going to make the cut. I’m not nearly attractive enough and the girls he’s with are dainty and elegant. I guess you could try, if you wore a wig and something feminine?”
“Not happening. Buuut...” She scrutinized his face and then scattered his bangs forward over his forehead. “‘Kay, do that hair thing that Dare taught you. Make it hang, like, over your eyes.” She demonstrated by grabbing his head and tilting it down and to the side. “Yeah. Now look up. That’s the one. Practice that and we’re golden. Virgin bait. He’ll eat it up. Meanwhile, what are you telling Peter? And Austin, who, I’m guessing, is paying for this ‘vacation’?”
“Austin will throw money at a goldfish if Peter asked him to. So, yeah, it’s Peter I’ll need to convince first. He won’t need much motivation considering it’ll take me five thousand miles away from Riley.”
Rachel flopped on the sofa with her legs in their usual position of hanging over the arm. “Yeah, take you five thousand miles from his apron strings, too, though. That’s not gonna go over well.” She stared up at the cityscape he’d been commissioned to do. “Couldn’t you do a mural like at home? I know why you had to take this job but, geez, it’s like a paint-by-numbers.”
“Means to an end,” Cai murmured. “Places like this don’t have room for inspiration.” Memories came rushing in, of talking to Riley all night while painting his own version of The Starry Night on the walls of Austin’s living room.
“Get any on the walls, kiddo?
Riley had wiped off paint off his nose. It had felt intimate, and hope had burgeoned in his stomach. He’d leaned in to kiss Riley.
The heat of embarrassment spread to his cheeks as the rest of the memory flooded in.
“Hey, whoa. Don’t do that, okay?”
Other than to ruffle his hair, Riley never touched him again.
He wasn’t prepared for the sudden heat behind his eyes.
Five thousand miles from memories.
Five thousand miles from the life he’d never have.
Will I feel heartache when I can see the real painting up close? Or will I drift and twist in those joyful swirls of cobalt and Indian yellow?
Cai?
“Cai?” Rachel nudged him. “Something wrong with your nose?”
“What?” He dropped his hand. “No. Sorry, I didn’t hear what you said.”
“Just that whatever you tell Peter, it better be convincing.”
“I’ll say I want to see the Louvre and the Rijksmuseum,” Cai said, shrugging off the melancholy. “And if that doesn’t work, I’ll say that being here isn’t helping me recover. Guilt will do the rest of the convincing.” It was all true. But there was another truth that he’d never dared to tell Peter. He needed to get as far from his brother’s coddling as possible, and five thousand miles wasn’t far enough. No more kisses to the temple or telling him what to do, where to go, how to speak, or who to speak to. No more hovering to make sure he takes his medication. He was done having his every move and decision managed. Sparks of anger burned the heartache away. “Actually, maybe I’ll tell Peter the truth.”
“Hah. You should, but you won’t. God forbid you tell Peter you’re pissed at him.” Rachel took a deep breath. “What about Captain Latin America?”
A few butterflies escaped the knot in Cai’s stomach. “I’m going to see him after I talk to Peter.”
Will Riley ask me to stay?
* * *
Riley finished tucking his shirt into his jeans while twisting his feet into a pair of loafers. He finally got one shoe on which is when November chose to rattle the windows of his house.
Fuzzbutt whined and scurried under the bed with his butt sticking out. “It’s just the wind, you scaredy cat.” The dog didn’t rise to the bait of being called a cat, nor did a few back scratches coerce him out of hiding. Riley checked his watch, then snatched his keys off the dresser. The game started in half an hour. He didn’t have time for a puppy breakdown, but, feeling a little guilty, he gave Fuzz an extra pat. “Be back soon, boy.” He put on his other shoe and then grabbed a wool pea coat on his way out the door. A surprising blast of sunshine greeted him, along with Nikolaj Strakosha bouncing up on the balls of his feet.
“Hey!” Riley grinned while clipping his gun next to the badge on his belt. “Did we have plans?”
“Plans?” Nikolaj sank down to his heels with a deflated furrow of his brows. He fiddled with the red hoodie tied around his waist. “No…I…”
“Relax. I’m just teasing you.”
“Oh. Um. You’re not very good at that.”
“Noted.” Riley laughed and ruffled Nikolaj’s moppy black hair. “I’m going to pick up a pizza before the game. Want to wait here or come along?”
“Come along.”
It was too warm for a heavy coat, but the click of claws made Riley quickly shut, then lock the door. He tucked the coat in the crook of his arm as they headed off. Fuzzbutt’s howls got a smile from them both.
“Can’t we bring him?” Nikolaj asked, popping a piece of candy into his mouth.
“A beagle in a pizza shop?”
“Oh. Yeah. I wanted to—before I…Never mind.”
“If it’ll make you feel better, I’ll buy Fuzz a small sausage pizza.”
At the end of the block, they rounded the corner into a temporary walkway next to a construction site. In the narrow confines, their shoulders bumped lightly together. Riley had the strangest urge to hold Nikolaj’s hand as it grazed his. He shoved his own deep into his jean pockets.
“Do you think I’m evil?” Nikolaj asked.
Riley halted. “What?” The wooden wall echoed his surprise. His confused expression should have encouraged an explanation. It did not.
“I liked Piglet. I really did. He was very cute.” Nikolaj nodded as if that explained everything.
Piglet? Riley would die of old age before he found the tracks, let alone the train, of Nikolaj’s thoughts. “No,” he answered. “Evil isn’t a word anyone who knows you would use to describe you.” Only Nikolaj understood the reason for this random bit of conversation. If asked, there would be an unintentionally condescending explanation for how it came about, complete with an implied ‘duh’. Riley asked anyway, because he enjoyed listening to the soft cadence of Nikolaj’s voice. “Why?”
Rather than answer directly, Nikolaj meandered down his track toward whatever point he was trying to make. “Dan thinks I’m evil. He’s your partner and friend.”
“Special Agent in Charge McCleary is my boss. Is there a reason you keep referring to him as Dan?”
Nikolaj shrugged noncommittally, then ignored the question again. “He’s your friend. Doesn’t that influence you?”
“No. I’ve seen the best of you. Not to mention, you goad him into thinking the worst. You still haven’t told me why you do that.”
“I don’t!”
“You don’t? ‘The FBI is a neutered death squad that enforces capital punishment but then prosecutes other people for carrying it out. You should really all be thanking me for saving red tape and taxpayer money.’ That’s not goading?” Riley laughed at the mass of black hair masterfully engineered to hide a smile. Nikolaj was a lot of things, but subtle wasn’t one. “Your spectacular effort to manipulate me is appreciated and ignored.”
Nikolaj’s grin expanded. For a second Riley thought he might finally get to hear Nikolaj laugh, but the smile dimmed, then disappeared into a scowl. “He thought the worst of me before I said that. I had nothing to lose.”
“A few bad cops framing you doesn’t make us all the enemy. You don’t need to antagonize everyone with a badge.”
“I don’t antagonize you.”
That coy response was so uncharacteristic that Riley nearly brushed Nikolaj’s bangs aside to fully read his expression. The conversation had veered into dangerous territory for him. He put some distance between them by leaning on the railing behind him with his arms crossed to cover the rapid rise and fall of his chest. Unconsciously, his gaze dropped to Nikolaj’s lips. He’s seventeen. Seventeen. Riley steered the conversation to safer ground. “You’ve never seemed to care what people thought of your morality before. Where’s this sudden interest coming from?”
“Something Peter said. Or implied, I guess. I asked why he made me watch Winnie the Pooh ten million times. Apparently, he overheard me tell Mama that I thought dissecting a fetal pig didn’t teach as much as seeing an actual heart beating. After that, the whole thing with Uncle Nikki happened. And I guess he believes I’m evil and his solution to that was Winnie the Pooh on repeat while cloistering me like I was a monk in training. Also, Austin thinks that I’m some kind of psychopath cult leader or something. Anyway, it got me thinking that, well, that maybe you thought the same thing. About me being evil, not Winnie the Pooh or the monk-cult thing.”
“You’ve spent nearly every day with me or my family for the last two years. Did you factor that into your thought process?”
“Yeah. Well. I’ve been with Peter every day of my life and Darryl for the last fourteen years of it and they think I’m so dangerous that I need cartoon pig indoctrination.” Nikolaj braced his foot on one side of the railing next to Riley’s hip and pushed up to sit against the wall. The maneuver wasn’t out of character. When Nikolaj wasn’t stretching or crouching to find the right light, he seemed to be at a loss as to what to do with his arms and legs. Usually, it involved finding ways for them to collide into Riley. But, he should have been suspicious. Nikolaj rarely initiated eye-contact and never held it for longer than a few seconds. “So obviously people who know me do think of me that way. Or maybe they use prettier words in their head. Is that what you do? Do you think I’m evil but you have some fancy word like ‘troubled’ or ‘damaged’?”
Riley couldn’t answer the question yet, even after all these years. “Why is this coming up today?”
“I was um…wondering.” Nikolaj stared in a way that could only be described as a challenge. “Is that why you won’t kiss me when you clearly want to?”
That hit close enough to the mark that Riley scratched the unease from the back of his neck. Evil? He wouldn’t go that far. Capable of evil? Yes. But he wasn’t about to lay that burden on a kid who had time to mature and change. “I won’t kiss you because that would be cruel when I know you have feelings for me.” Riley instinctively felt for the FBI badge pinned to his belt. “And I won’t kiss you because you’re seventeen.”
“Eighteen. As of Tuesday.”
“And I’m twenty-eight.”
“Almost twenty-nine.”
From the collar of his shirt, Nikolaj pulled a metal beaded necklace out and absently played with it. Riley was incapable of suppressing a smile at the gesture. “You know that’s FBI property,” he teased.
“You gave it to me.”
“To track you. When I was your bodyguard.”
“Come and get it, then.” Another foot planted next to Riley’s other hip, effectively caging him in.
With the way that Nikolaj smiled, Riley would have to reexamine that whole “evil” conversation. “What are you doing?”
“Flirting?” Nikolaj asked, his brows lifting.
This must have been how Gulliver felt, trapped and helpless against something so small. Not that Nikolaj was small, but the gesture was. “Let’s go,” Riley said, patting one thin leg. Cai didn’t move it. Just kept those intense grey eyes fixed in challenge.
Riley no longer denied to himself that he wanted Cai— Nikolaj—but he’d pushed those feelings aside since they began a few months ago. He tried to keep things “brotherly”, but that had become more difficult, as Cai—Nikolaj, dammit!—got older and braver. “We’ve had this conversation bef—”
“I’m leaving for Europe,” Cai blurted out.
Riley curled his fingers, barely conscious he’d gripped a handful of Cai’s jeans. “That’s great,” he forced out. “Where in Europe?”
“Amsterdam, Paris for the museums. Albania, to see where my parents lived.” Cai hesitated and winced. “I guess mostly London.”
Riley patted Cai’s leg again; this time Cai moved it, tucking his heel up underneath him. The other foot remained put, signaling that Riley would be walking to the pizza place alone. “Sounds fun. I would have killed to go to Europe for a few weeks at your age.”
“Not just a few weeks. A year or more, if I can.”
That punched the air from Riley’s lungs. He slumped against the railing. A year or more without Nikolaj coming by every day. His coat nearly slipped from his grasp. “That’s…when do you leave?”
“Friday.” Cai gnawed at his nails while checking down the corridor.
“Yeah? That’s great…Great experience.” Riley strained for a smile. It faltered into a grimace. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?”
“Peter hadn’t agreed ‘til this morning. I have a little money from commissions and other odd jobs, but he and Austin had to chip in a lot, too.”
“Sounds like a once in a lifetime opportunity. My mother will miss you driving her to church.” Don’t be a jackass. “I’ll miss you, too, Nikolaj.”
Cai stopped shredding his nails and wrapped his arms around himself. He looked so vulnerable, even a bit angelic, suspended above the floor as he was. “Kiss me goodbye, Riley,” he whispered, his breath held. “Please?” He looked as though he’d shatter into pieces at any second.
Afraid to move, afraid he’d give in, Riley held tight to the railing behind him. He couldn’t keep his eyes off Cai’s mouth. A waft of freezing wind blew between them, alighting goosebumps across his skin. He should pretend he hadn’t heard. Cai was probably too terrified and fragile to repeat the plea. It’s just a kiss. Cai’s lower lip tempted him with a slight quiver. What could one kiss hurt? Cai would forget him as soon as he experienced a world outside of criminals and cops and overprotective brothers. A kiss that he’d denied them both these past months wouldn’t hold Cai back. It wouldn’t tether him, at eighteen, to a man ten years his senior.
What could it hurt?
Riley stepped forward and cupped Cai’s cheek. He brushed his thumb across a fleck of red paint under his eye. More paint dotted Cai’s brows and nose in a myriad of colors. Riley smiled and traced a few. Rainbow freckles. Skittles. Turpentine. Messy hair. Whispered words. Answers in the form of questions. The way he bounced on his toes when he had something to say. The thin bones in his wrist. Riley knew every part of Cai, except one. On his growing list of bad ideas, allowing himself to have that final part was at the top. He leaned in and then waited for fear or panic, or any kind of change of heart, but anticipation radiated from the wide, grey eyes. The noise from the street faded until all he could hear was the accelerating beat of his pulse.
Cai hesitantly reached out with shaking hands, pulling back several times before resting them at the edge of Riley’s belt. “Can I...touch you?”
“Higher, not lower,” Riley teased.
“Oh, but...I...I wouldn’t—” Cai ripped his hands away like he’d touched a hot stove and looked up. “Oh.” He muttered something about mean-teasing not counting, then took a deeper breath. His fingers started once again at Riley’s belt and then inched higher with each stuttering exhale.
The delicate, innocent touch sent ribbons of heat into Riley’s blood and stole the air from his lungs. “Close your eyes,” he ordered, surprised by the huskiness in his voice.
Cai obeyed, lips parting and releasing a plume of sugar-coated breath. A saint couldn’t resist that invitation. Riley surrendered to temptation and drew his lips across Cai’s.
The intent was to kiss him lightly and then retreat, but Cai ghosted his hands further up, twisted locks of his hair between his fingers, and then tugged to pull Riley against him.
Riley lost whatever sanity he had left. He pushed closer, his tongue sweeping in to steal more sweetness. Seconds became breathless minutes of indulgence. He bit the edge of Cai’s bottom lip, caught a stray granule of sugar, and then yanked him off the wall. Cai stumbled but then wrapped his arms around Riley’s neck. Their hips and chests melded, hearts pounding together in rhythm. Too far. But Riley couldn’t stop. Couldn’t hear anything but the wind and the small noises Cai made. The pea coat fell to the ground as he dug his fingers into the bones of Cai’s hips. His thumb hooked into the waistband of the loose jeans, and he started to pull them lower.
A drawn-out car horn blasted him back to reality. Riley dragged himself from the undertow of Cai’s taste. The full force of what he’d nearly done stunned him into silence. He looked where his hands were and then jerked them away.
“Tell me to stay. Tell me to stay. Tell me,” Cai whispered, twisting open a button on Riley’s shirt. He snuck his cold hand inside, resting it where the drumfire of Riley’s heart thumped in his chest and then leaned in for another kiss.
Riley turned his head to avoid repeating his mistake. When he found the strength not to give in, he looked at Cai but couldn’t find words. Nothing but breath came between them as they stood silent and still—Cai with his eyes closed, his lips wet and red, along with the skin near his mouth. Riley used his thumb to smooth the spots his stubble had marred. He should have shaved today.
He should have stopped this.
He should have sent Cai home.
“Have a safe flight,” he murmured.
Another gust of wind twisted down the tunnel. This one carried off the energy crackling between them.
Cai crossed his arms, hurt and defiance written across his face. “I won’t wait for you. I love you, but I won’t wait for you.”
Riley gathered a slow, unsteady breath and distanced himself further. An unexpected pain knotted inside him. “You shouldn’t wait for me.”
“You want me to go,” Cai said quietly.
“Yes. I want you to find out who you are. To become something other than Baby Capone, or Peter and Darryl’s brother. You’ve missed so many things. When was the last time you laughed, Nikolaj?”
“I…” The furrowed brow said it all. Cai chewed his nail and stared toward the traffic light down the block changing from red to green and then to red again. But he didn’t finish the reply.
Riley knew the answer because Peter had told him during a tirade about staying away from his brother. Cai had not laughed at all in the last two years. Not once. Not a real laugh.
“Go to Europe,” Riley said. “Meet pretty Parisian boys. See the Louvre. Paint. Forget your old life for a while and learn who you are.” He swept the tangled hair from Cai’s face and let his fingers linger there a few seconds. “Goodbye, Nikolaj.”
Cai remained in place as Riley started to walk away. Over the roar of traffic, he heard quiet words at his back. “What are you going to do when it’s too late? When I’ve found someone else?”
It wasn’t until Riley braced against the door of the restaurant that he realized he’d left his coat behind.
“What are you going to do when it’s too late?”
Move on. Like I should have done two years ago.