Chapter 9 #2
My tiger perks up at the idea, but I shake my head. I’m sure I’d know by now if he was. “It’s unlikely, but I feel like if I don’t give this a chance between us, I might miss out on something special. Crazy, right?”
When it comes to Bryn, I want to throw my personal rule book out the window, which is not something I’ve ever felt before. I just don’t know if it’s safe to step out of my comfort zone.
Ethan carefully stirs the steak strips. “It’s not crazy. It’s fucking cute, actually.”
“Excuse me, Bryn and I are not cute.”
His lips twitch, but then his expression grows serious. “Is it his criminal record that’s holding you back?”
I check the rice, which is nice and fluffy, then turn off that ring while I consider the question. “I suppose partly. The more I get to know him, the more I like him. But there’s this niggling thought at the back of my mind, like what if the details of what he did are more than I’m okay with?”
“The details, or the reason why? Because we’ve both done far worse under orders.”
He’s hit the nail on the head. With our backgrounds, violence isn’t the issue.
It’s that I don’t know why Bryn attacked Lance that day.
It shouldn’t matter—he’s served his time—but with my job I really do have to be responsible about who I date.
And until I know more, there’s always going to be that aspect holding me back.
Sexy Neighbour
When can I come over?
We literally just got back.
So, ten minutes?
No, I need to call my friend Wren. You can come over for dinner.
Another meal from Milo’s spreadsheet? Or do I get something fun this time?
Wait, he told you he sent it to me?
Nope.
Bollocks.
Ooh, fun, I’ll never say no to playing with yours.
Do you like Indian food?
YES!!!
I’ll make you a selection of street food if you stop flirting long enough to let me make this call.
I adore you.
That wasn’t flirting, that was me stating a fact.
I shake my head at my phone, a smile playing on my lips. It’s not a surprise that Bryn figured out about Milo sending me the spreadsheet, and now I can feed him just as much protein in sneakier ways.
I pick up the coffee I just made and head for the sofa.
The gas engineer finally came round and fixed my boiler, and although I wish the human hadn’t used the spare key from the rental agency while I wasn’t home, I’m grateful to have heating again.
I’ve also had to return to Dhiren’s cheap wardrobe, but I’ve put on a navy shirt that fits me almost perfectly and a pair of jeans that make my arse look good, so the change isn’t as depressing as it could be.
I prop my back against the end of the sofa and video call Wren.
We’ve planned this time to catch up, so it doesn’t surprise me when she answers on the first ring.
What does surprise me are the dark circles under her worried eyes.
Wren is a solicitor with the mayor’s office, so we met when Soldati Security were bidding for the BSG task force contract.
She’s a bear shifter with a curvy figure, caramel hair, and a ready quip.
“What’s wrong?” I ask immediately.
She manages an exhausted smile. “I look that bad, huh?”
“You always look gorgeous.” She really does. Absolutely my type of woman if she wasn’t already happily married and I wasn’t being tempted by a tattooed dragon shifter. “Seriously, what’s happened?”
“Have I ever told you about my half-brother?”
I sip my coffee, wracking my brain. “No, I don’t think so.”
“He’s the black sheep of the family. Did time in Wargate but seems to be turning it around now he’s out and working as a lorry driver.
Except he’s acting out of character, and I’m worried he’s falling in with a bad crowd again.
Sorry, you don’t need to listen to my family drama.
How’ve you been? What happened to your hair? ”
I ignore the touchy subject of my missing hair, not least because I’m getting a bad feeling about this. I really hope I’m wrong. “No, hey, forget me. What is it that he’s been doing that has you worried?”
She exhales noisily. “So he drove to Nottingham the other week, just like any other day. We talked that morning on my way to work when he was already on the road. We’re planning a sixty-fifth birthday party for our mum, so we were arranging when to go shopping for it.
Only, a couple of days later he messages me to say he bumped into an ex-girlfriend when he was in Nottingham and is staying there for a while.
That he’s transferring to the Nottingham distribution centre of his company, and I’ll have to plan the party without him.
The thing is, Jay is aro-ace. He doesn’t have an ex-girlfriend. ”
A chill runs through me and I quickly sit up straight, putting my mug down and pulling my laptop closer on the coffee table. “I’ll be honest, that’s ringing some alarm bells for me.”
“Oh, thank the goddess.” She scrubs a hand over her face and when she pulls it away, tears are glistening in her eyes. “The rest of the family have given up on him. I’m the only one who wants to find him and shake some sense into him.”
I’m tempted to tell her about our current investigation.
She has a high enough security clearance, and I really don’t like keeping things from her when it relates to her brother.
But right now, I don’t even know for certain if this is the same person Felicia mentioned.
Although realistically, how many bear shifters named Jay are there in Birchester?
I prop my phone against my mug and bring up a blank document on my laptop. “Start from the beginning and tell me everything. If there’s enough evidence to justify it, I’ll see if I can sweet-talk the Nottingham task force into checking in on him.”
Although I hope nothing bad has happened to her brother, a chance to verify whether one of these shifters is actually missing or not could finally be the lead I’ve been searching for.
‘Wren didn’t even know he’d been in an accident?’ Bryn picks up the last small piece of roti and uses it to meticulously mop up the sauce on his plate.
He’s been appreciative all through the meal, even though dinner is ridiculously late thanks to all the emails I sent and request forms I had to fill in after I finished talking to Wren.
The BSG has far too much red tape when it comes to allowing different task forces to work together, but with it being Sunday night I wanted everything in place before tomorrow morning.
‘At this point I still need to confirm if there’s even been an accident in the Nottingham distribution centre, but no, she didn’t mention it, and she definitely would have.’ I eye the empty dishes and clean plates and wonder if I should have made more food. ‘Are you still hungry?’
His smile is playful. ‘Only for you.’
I roll my eyes and stand to clear the table. He helps me stack the dishes and move them to the kitchen counter before nudging me away.
‘I’ve got the dishes if you have more you need to do,’ he signs.
‘No, it’s—’ My phone rings where I left it on the coffee table. ‘Phone.’
He nods and turns to the sink. I hurry over, assuming it’s going to be one of several people I’ve emailed because I included my number, only for it to be an international number I don’t recognise.
“Hello?” I say.
“Is that any way to greet your mother, Rajesh? We raised you better than that.”
I expected to be pleased when I finally heard from one of my parents, but instead there’s only a familiar sense of detachment. I check my screen again but the international code is not the one for Czechia, which is where my parents are supposed to be.
“Hello, Mother. I didn’t recognise the number. Did you relocate countries again?”
“Is your brain addled, Rajesh? I told you we were moving to New Zealand last month. The move was a total nightmare. Those removal people! They never get anything right. They almost broke some of the good china. And your father caught one trying to make off with the silver! Never hire raven shifters as movers, Rajesh.”
“I won’t, Mother.” I cross the room, touch Bryn on the shoulder, and sign, ‘Mother.’
He nods and shoos me away, so I sit on the sofa. It feels odd to let him wash up when he’s my guest, but it’s been months since I’ve spoken to either of my parents and if I don’t speak to my mother now, I don’t know when I’ll get another opportunity.
I pick up the one remaining soft tiger toy that I didn’t donate to the children’s hospital or the domestic violence shelter and lean back, stroking the stupid thing, with my head tipped up to stare at the spider in the corner of my ceiling.
My mother continues telling me all about the move she definitely didn’t inform me of, their new house, settling into the BSG department in the Queenstown embassy, and the various species who live in the country.
“Are you listening, Rajesh? Have you heard a word I’ve said?”
“Of course, Mother. You were telling me about the ambassador’s wife being a dolphin shifter.” Before she can return to the tale of last night’s dinner party and some spilled wine, I keep talking. “Have you booked a new flight, then?”
There’s a brief silence. “Flight?”
I close my eyes in resignation. My next words will be pointless, but I say them anyway. “To visit me for the festival.”
My parents promised me they’d visit for the Festival of Light this year. I booked a hotel for them months ago.
The silence is longer and more awkward this time. I don’t break it, because what would be the point? My mother knows I want her and my father to visit. She’s the one who instilled the importance of the festival in me as a child.
Actually, that was probably one of my many nannies.
“Oh, the ambassador’s wife is calling. I must take this call, Rajesh.”
I sigh and stare at the little spider again, not remotely surprised that’s her response. “Call me when you’ve booked your flight. I expect to see you and Father next month as planned.” I hang up before my mother can, my chest too tight to bother with a proper goodbye.