Who Said Witness Protection Was Boring? (Mobster Mayhem #2)

8. Matthew

8

Matthew

The briefing with Agent Kelly, Kieran’s boss and the acting director of the IRIS Unit, goes mostly smoothly. The CIA wants us on standby until they’ve gone through the USB files. Since we didn’t have time to look through the data that we copied, we’ll be doing that after we pick some things from Kieran’s place and buy some food. He said he’s happy to cook even though I suggested we live off take out. We are ordering pizza tonight though, because movie night without it is just sad.

I tease him about our rubbing incident in the morning the whole way to his condo. He was totally into it, even if he kept insisting it was just a normal physical reaction on his end. I can see where he is coming from, but I also know what I felt. A repeat, for scientific research purposes, would do us both good, but I don’t rush into offering such a radical way to test who is right. After all, he seems to think he’s one hundred percent straight.

His eagerness suggested otherwise. At most, it’s a fifty-fifty split; he just hasn’t acknowledged he’s into cock yet. I’ll be more than happy to help him with that if he’s interested.

Kieran’s place is a modern two-bedroom located in a newish building in one of those middle-class apartment complexes at the edge of Sheepshead Bay. It faces inward, so you can’t see the Hudson, but I’ve never been one to get impressed by an apartment’s view. Besides, why pay more for something with zero practical advantages?

Once he’s collected what he needs, including the supposed evidence he will be showing me in order to prove that he didn’t lie about his parents, we go to a shop so I can pick some basics like underwear, socks, T-shirts and pants. The safehouse is equipped with everything else, so after buying some more food and a couple essential electronics at a nearby supermarket, we head back. The two agents tasked with watching over us follow us the entire time in a dark blue civilian sedan.

“You think you could slip them?” I say as we enter the house.

“Slip who?” Kieran asks, toeing off his shoes. His bundle of car and house keys that are clipped to his belt clink and clang from the movements.

I hang my jacket and get the bags of food from the bench. “Our tail. Like in traffic?”

He picks up the ones with clothes. “Sure. But the point of having a security detail is for them to protect you. How would they do that if we gave them the slip?”

Placing the bags on the breakfast counter, I turn to him. He’s perched his ass on the silly zebra-couch’s armrest. “I thought you were my security detail, and they are just extras. Besides, it was just a question.”

“You will be safer if you let us do our jobs instead of trying to stir shit up. If the Deputy Director appointed extra men, it’s because he thinks they are needed—”

“Or because he wants them to keep an eye on us, so we don’t try to run away,” I correct him.

He chuckles. “And why would we do that? You are the one who signed the NDA-s and agreements. I thought you wanted to be part of this and get to the bottom of it?”

“I do. I just…”

It’s hard to put into words, but I just have this sinking feeling. Like a premonition. That something isn’t quite right. Plus, I don’t like Bucks. What Kieran is saying is entirely correct—the more bodyguards I have, the safer I will be, especially once we move on to the part where I’ll serve as bait for the bad guys.

Still, something feels off. About this whole thing and how easily the CIA agreed to do things my way. I just can’t quite wrap my finger around what it is yet. Part of me thinks I might not ever be able to, unless… I throw Kieran a glance over my shoulder. He’s watching me. The duffle with the evidence he intends to use to earn my trust is lying on the couch, an arm’s stretch away from him.

“I’ll take a shower,” I announce, brushing past Kieran and snatching the bags with my stuff from the coffee table. “Get that pizza ordered. I want the spicy chicken. And some cookies.”

“What about the data from th—”

“Yes! We’ll watch your movie first , and then mine! As a warm-up for the new release,” I cut in, giving him a meaningful look as I wave my arms wide.

He frowns in confusion.

Some very basic things didn’t cross my mind when we arrived in the morning. I was too tired and there was too much adrenaline still in me. But I have since calmed down, and that means I’ve had time to think shit through. Like the fact that this whole place could be bugged with listening devices and hidden cameras.

Now, I might be overreacting. I’m just a random civilian that ended up getting dragged into this mess by chance. All the CIA is doing is protecting me so that I can help them catch whoever came after this asset. A normal person wouldn’t question any of this—they will likely cooperate without any demands so they can get back to their life as quickly as possible. It makes sense, right?

But the issue is Chrissy and Gordon taught me better than that. They always questioned things. Sometimes more than I thought was necessary. They also didn’t blindly trust the authorities. So, naturally, I am like that, too. It’s not me being rebellious or in shock. I’m just suspicious.

Kieran is still looking at me like I’ve grown a second head. But I really don’t want to spell things out to him when someone might be listening.

Time for Plan B.

I take a step, sway a little to the left and shove my shoulder into the door frame, groaning like I’m a goat in the middle of getting decapitated. Kieran shoots up from the couch like his ass is legit on fire, darting over to me as I dramatically crumple to the floor. Looping an arm under mine, he takes on my weight to support me.

“Jesus! What happened? Are you alright, Matt?”

“Oh, no! I tripped and hit the door frame.” I groan and sway a bit more for added effect. “I think I sprained my shoulder. You’ll have to help me shower!”

His eyes go wide as saucers. “ What ?”

I pinch his arm, yanking him closer. “Play along, you dumbass. They might be spying on us,” I hiss-whisper, whimpering and moaning like an award-winning actor.

His face undergoes a myriad of expressions, ranging from more confusion to exasperation and annoyance, until finally settling into comprehension.

“Oh…” He bunches his eyebrows together and studies me for a few heartbeats, the gears of his brain turning. “ Oooh .”

“Wha—”

He throws his head back and starts cackling.

It’s my turn to be dumbfounded. “Uh, Kieran…?”

He doesn’t stop, his booming laughter bouncing off the walls and reverberating through me. I shiver, goosebumps rising all over me. It’s a nice laugh. A very very nice one. It’s aimed at me, but it’s also because of me, and that makes it even more hypnotizing. More enchanting. More… potent as it stirs warmth and tingling within me. It’s hard to explain, but it’s like I’ve just gotten a dopamine shot. I’m borderline euphoric.

“Sorry,” he snorts, his eyes tearing up.

I wipe the wetness off them, still unsure what caused his episode. He’s either lost it or whatever the joke that got him laughing his ass off has completely gone over my head.

After a further minute of him trying to catch his breath so we can talk, he finally calms down enough. “I swiped the place. In the morning.”

I stare at him, blinking.

He purses his lips and rakes a hand through my hair. “There are no bugs. I checked in the morning while you were getting changed.”

It’s my turn to gawk at him like he’s the Virgin Mary. Why of course he already checked for bugs. He’s CIA. It’s probably been drilled into him from day one. I’m such an idiot. He wouldn’t have let us talk about this unless he knew it was safe to do so.

“Oh .”

He huffs in obvious amusement. My cheeks suddenly catch fire. Flailing my arms like one of those inflatable men at theme park attractions, I struggle to come up with an excuse.

“They might have planted some while we were gone!” I argue.

“They didn’t. I left a little something so I’d know if anyone entered the house while we were away.” Clasping his elbow, he drums his fingers along it. “Good thinking though, even if it came a little late. We wouldn’t want them knowing we plan to do our own little investigation now, do we?”

Oh god, this is embarrassing.

Growling, I hide my face behind my hands. “Whatever. I was tired in the morning, okay? It didn’t cross my mind to ask then! Plus, I’m still processing.”

He raises his arms in a placating manner. “Nah. I’m genuinely impressed. Most civilians wouldn’t even think of checking for bugs. Besides, your performance just now was quite convincing.”

Can the ground open and swallow me, please? “Just shut up, please.”

The asshole has the audacity to chuckle in that sexy way which makes my skin prickle with little sparks. Damn him.

I stomp my foot and turn to leave. I need to cool off and gather my bearings and forget this little accident. I could’ve taken him outside and quietly asked him about the bugs before making a complete idiot of myself.

“Hold on,” he hollers.

I pause, twisting my head back. “What?”

In a serious, no-nonsense expression with no sign of amusement, he deadpans, “You still need help with that shower, cupcake?”

I roll my eyes and flip him. “You wish. Get the stupid pizza, but don’t start eating without me,” I order, jogging up the stairs with my cheeks still burning and my heart trying to jump out of my chest.

Stuffing myself full of pizza helps alleviate some of the lingering embarrassment. We don’t finish it all since I’m still kind of stuffed from earlier, so I put the rest away for later while Kieran unpacks the stuff from his duffle. Most of it are documents that I’m convinced he’s not supposed to even have in his possession, so pretty quickly it becomes clear that he wasn’t lying when he said it could land him in trouble.

I pick a random folder and start skimming through it. If what Bucks told me is to be believed, then just like Chrissy and Gordon, Kieran’s parents used to be part of the Black Ops. There is little information about what they had been working on, but as I flip over to a report about a failed extraction from fifteen years ago, one word jumps at me.

Molniya .

In the files Kieran has collected on his parents, there is a mention of Molniya . It’s their mission’s name, which means that Code Red Molniya which Chrissy and Gordon issued before everything went to shit must be connected in some way. As I read on, I’m more and more sure that it can’t be a simple coincidence.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” I demand, holding the document in his face.

His eyes lock on the paragraph my finger is pointing to. “Because I still don’t really know what it means.” He blows air out of his pursed lips. “And, even if I had told you, would you have believed me that there might be a connection between your aunt and my parents? Just because of that one word?”

I glare at the sheet of paper. He’s making a good argument. Without the actual evidence, I wouldn’t have believed him. And this is actual evidence. It has the register/archive number and a bunch of other identifiers. I don’t know what half of them mean, but they prove that this is authentic and not forged.

“Okay… So, there seems to be a link between my folks and yours. But, I mean, they were both Black Ops… You think they worked on this together?” I pace over to the window and pull the curtains just enough so that I can peek out at the street. The dark blue car with the two agents is where they parked it when we arrived. “Do you think that it’s maybe why Bucks was so adamant about you being my bodyguard? Maybe he was afraid you’d dig up something you aren’t supposed to?”

Which is a moot point, I realize, if digging up shit is what Kieran has been doing from the start. With all the information he’s collected so far, it’s kind of obvious that he has an ulterior motive for working at the Agency. Not that I can blame him; I’d have probably done the same.

“It’s possible that he was being cautious. But…”

“But if he let you handle my protection anyway , it has to mean he’s not too worried about it.”

That sounds like a prime example of someone underestimating their opponent just because they have more power, status and money.

I survey the documents we’ve scattered on the table again. Clearly, Bucks doesn’t feel threatened. Sure, Kieran hasn’t made that much progress—he’s basically taken just a single step from square one—but I am part of the equation now.

And I have something that I bet the CIA never intended to share with anyone outside of its most elite members.

Taking out the USB containing the copied data from the asset, I study its unassuming form. We tossed Kieran’s tablet and got a new one along with a laptop and a couple phones. It never hurts to be careful.

“Agent Kieran Stevenson. I think we might be after the same thing.” I hold out my hand. “I don’t fully trust you… yet , but I think we can help each other.” I flash him my killer smile, the one that makes everyone weak in the knees. “ If you are willing to work together behind the CIA’s back.”

It’s a bold statement, I know. But I can tell he has beef with the Agency. He’s also low-key obsessed with his parents’ case or he wouldn’t have done the questionable things he did in order to be the one who saved me. I respect that. In fact, it’s downright badass. Or I’m just into the morally gray type. But anyhow.

He grips my hand, and we shake. “You sure about this, Heisenberg? Last chance to bail.”

I grin, squeezing his fingers. “Nah. I was always a fan of conspiracy theories. And this is the closest I will probably ever get to a real one. So, I’m in. Let’s stir some shit up.”