Chapter 1 #2
Sly smile in place, Ford stared ahead, while his hand moved, and Andrew gasped, breathing harsher and shallower until he could feel himself getting close. He had no idea anything Steven had said for the past several minutes, gripping the sides of his chair for an anchor.
“What if I snuck away quietly right now and left you like this, hard and weeping?” Ford whispered, slowing his strokes.
“Don’t you dare!” Andrew snarled.
A dark chuckle responded, but Ford’s hand picked up the pace, tight, pumping harder, faster. “Does that mean you'll keep my secret?”
Andrew nodded frantically. He didn’t care. He just wanted to come.
But he also knew Ford was using him again.
His hand focused on Andrew, but he was listening intently to every bit of intel Steven was revealing.
Andrew couldn’t afford to lose any more clients.
He needed to outdo Ford, but the only thing he could think of right then, given that he was currently in the palm of his enemy’s hand, was to get intel on Ford in return.
And he had a tracker in his pocket.
Ford sped up faster—faster. Andrew was close, and he used that to his advantage, starting by clutching the side of his pant leg, and then moving up to his pocket. The act was mostly hidden by Ford’s arm stretched across his lap, and Ford’s eyes remained forward.
Andrew removed the tracker and reached for Ford’s pocket instead. He clutched there too, making it seem like he was warning Ford of his impending release, and then—
He came with an all-over shudder.
No one had even turned to look at them, and as Andrew let his hand drop between them, he didn’t get any impression that Ford knew what he’d done. Ford might ditch the hat and jacket, but he wouldn’t ditch his pants, not until he was somewhere safe.
Taking most of the mess with him, Ford pulled his hand away and slipped it into his jacket to clean off unseen. “You may have to punish me again for that. Or maybe, next time, I’ll punish you.”
Feeling rather smug and satisfied, Andrew could only nod, closing his eyes and enjoying the afterglow.
“Mr. Wen,” Steven’s voice brought him abruptly back to reality. “Have I put you to sleep back there?”
“No!” Andrew said on instinct, flushing furiously as he opened his eyes and righted himself, so very glad for the dark and the table hiding him.
“I should hope not,” Steven said firmly, and then continued where he’d left off about possible future targets the police were watching.
Waiting until no one was looking anymore, Andrew discreetly did up his pants. He glanced to the side, but Ford was gone, having slipped away unnoticed.
No matter. As soon as the briefing was over, Andrew would be on his trail.
ISAAC
Isaac hadn’t been able to resist stopping by the police station after catching wind that Andrew would be there for a briefing on the very same cases he was most interested in. He wasn't foolish enough to have bugged the precinct but keeping tabs on his competition was good business.
The hands-on interaction hadn’t been planned, but Isaac didn’t regret it, already wondering when he might make good on his suggestion for a ‘next time.’ Seeing Andrew again had stirred up all sorts of old desires, regardless of how things had ended at Christmas.
How else things had ended was that he’d become busy with someone else.
Hey, Dad! Lunch tomorrow?
A text from Dalton, who called him ‘Dad’ with ease, warming Isaac every time, even months after first hearing it.
Dalton Wellesley—his son.
Arriving at his offices, Isaac snuck into the alley to go in through the back.
The security firm was in his old safe house, newly renovated.
He’d bought the building officially with a loan his parole officer helped secure, and the rest had mostly been decorating.
The place was large enough for a lobby, conference room, him and his associates to each have their own offices, and space for Isaac to live there.
He fired off a quick text in reply.
Just name the where and when.
How about the firm?
Nice try.
Isaac’s one rule while they got to know each other was that Dalton never get involved in his day job, past or present. It was too dangerous after the enemies he’d made turning in the other escapees—and giving up a life of crime, especially since he hadn’t planned that part.
No one, other than the people Isaac trusted most, which was the small handful he worked with, could ever find out that Dalton existed. A target on Isaac’s back wasn't the same as one on his son.
After hours only.
Isaac didn’t even like that. Usually, if they weren’t meeting out and about, they stuck to Dalton’s apartment. That was safer.
I’ll wear you down yet, Dad.
Isaac smiled. Dalton’s mother sure had, though in entirely different ways.
Their time together had been a brief affair when he was much younger.
She was a good girl who hadn't belonged in the neighborhoods she was frequenting. Isaac had been hurt when she disappeared, but he’d moved on, understood that no one in their right mind would stick around a felon-in-training if they had better options, which she must have agreed with because she hadn’t told Dalton who his father was until she was on her death bed.
Isaac had never known she was pregnant.
Replacing his phone in his pants pocket, he slipped inside the building.
“That’s a good look on you, Arty,” Kathleen teased, passing by him in the hall.
Arty for Artifice, a nickname she was careful not to use in mixed company.
Kathleen Watts was an ideal administrative assistant on top of HR, a reformed con-artist, who might have been picked up by Vice a time or two. Potential clients responded well to her lyrical voice and classic bombshell physique—long red hair, green eyes, and a body worth taking a bullet for.
From what Isaac had heard, a few had.
He removed the police cap and shimmied off his jacket. He’d safely hide the pieces away in case anyone ever came snooping—though the jacket needed to be cleaned—but he didn’t have to fear any snitches among his employees.
“Maybe I chose the wrong career.” He winked at her.
Luke appeared just as Isaac reached his office door, and even with the hat and jacket tucked under his arm, the large man startled.
Luke Chambers, big and burly and imposing, with black eyes and skin nearly as dark, was a former enforcer for hire and an ideal choice for muscle as Isaac’s lead field agent.
He’d also been a bouncer at the bar down the street and pointed Dalton in his direction.
He and Kathleen were Isaac’s oldest friends, but former criminal or not, Luke had an intense aversion to anyone in uniform.
“The fuck’s that getup for?”
“Police briefing on the city’s newest thief.”
That halted Kathleen from disappearing down the hall.
“Anything good?” Luke asked.
“I’d say so. Now I know everyone who was hit, which includes our newest client.”
“Larson?” Kathleen pressed, as she and Luke followed him into the office. “You got Larson Manufacturing?”
“Signed proposal came into my email this morning. I’d say we should celebrate, but we have work to do.
” Isaac sat at his desk, shoving the jacket and cap into his bottom drawer to be dealt with later.
“If we can figure out how to best protect against this new thief, or better yet, figure out who it is, we’ll pick up all the businesses that were targeted before Wen can even look their direction. ”
Kathleen’s eyes twinkled at the prospect, but Luke clenched his jaw. He thought their healthy rivalry was a waste of time.
It hadn’t felt like a waste earlier.
Isaac patted his pockets to be sure nothing else remained from the precinct but froze. In his right pocket was his phone. In his left… was something foreign.
A Bluetooth tracker.
“What’s that?” Kathleen asked.
“Get Riley in here,” Isaac said with a grin. “I’ll forward you the Larson contract and we can discuss that later. I promised we’d survey their current security this week.” He rolled the tracker between his fingers. “Let’s make that right now. Looks like I have a tail.”
Usually, Isaac did all his security testing at night while a business was closed, since that was when a thief was most likely to strike. Today, he was making an exception and leading Andrew Wen on a wild goose chase.
“Anything yet?” he asked of his surveillance and tech specialist, Riley Sedgwick. Riley was the youngest of his crew but had been the most promising talent before his hacking skills landed him two to five behind bars, which he’d gotten reduced due to good behavior.
“Quick check-ins but nothing ongoing or that says where he is. Definitely following you though. You must have him smitten, boss. How exactly did he get that tracker in your pocket?” Riley was clever, but he had no filter or sense of decorum. He’d hit on Isaac blatantly from the first day they met.
He had a similar physique to Andrew, although shorter, with dark hair and eyes just the same too, but Riley didn’t interest Isaac that way. Not that he had to compare everyone to Andrew; he just happened to be thinking of him now.
“Mind your business and keep me posted,” Isaac ordered over the two-way radio. It was clipped to his belt, but he also had an earpiece. “Once you learn a location, let me know.”
Cell phones were the cheaper option for a small security firm, but they were less reliable and only good for one-on-one, something Andrew knew too, since he also used two-way radios.
Which were easier to hack, especially for Riley.
Larson Manufacturing was closed for the day, still recovering from their recent theft, and had agreed to the impromptu run on their security.
Breaking in to test defenses, even if Isaac never stole anything anymore, was usually a thrill that reminded him of the good old days and assuaged his compulsions. But this place was a joke.