Chapter Four
The hands on his office clock moved slower than usual.
Atticus kept his gaze locked on the wall where the stubborn object barely clicked.
He had stuff to do. Atticus should be doing those things.
Instead, he simply reminded himself how much he hated time.
If he wanted the day to move its ass, time slowed.
Anytime he dreaded anything, time flew. Hours, minutes, seconds — they were no one’s friend.
The intercom on his desk buzzed.
Atticus hit the button so fast and hard, he was certain it would never work properly again. “Yes?”
“Mr. Agafonov is here.”
“Send him in.”
Foster strolled in, looking stone-faced and out of place.
Yet the guy carried himself with all the confidence of the elite.
Maybe Foster didn’t care about expensive clothes; he could still don them and fit in anywhere.
Mhmm. He was just big and… big. Damn, he made Atticus curious about what he looked like beneath his clothes.
Foster also held a paper bag with a twill handle.
That, too, piqued his interest, but he would be damned if he asked.
“Did you have any trouble entering the building?”
Foster shook his head. “In fact, three different people asked me if I’d like something to drink.”
“Good. They were told to treat you like my guest, since you are, obviously.”
“Did you get your hip checked out?”
Atticus held back laughter. No one could say Foster wasn’t determined. “Hairline fracture. Nothing rest and ice won’t fix.”
“Yet you’re not at home resting.”
Hell would freeze first. Atticus motioned toward a leather couch facing a view of the city. “Sit down. I’ve ordered sushi.”
“I don’t like sushi.” Foster headed for the couch as he made the claim.
Atticus joined him. “I know. The sushi is for me. I ordered you a burger from that disgusting place you like.”
“How do you know what I like?”
Atticus didn’t bother answering the question. “We’ve established you enjoy watching. I like when a man stronger than me ties me up and hurts me.”
“Sounds like I’m not your guy. You’ve already put me on my ass.”
Damn, he honestly enjoyed every second he spent with Foster. He hid nothing. Atticus loved a straightforward man. “I had rage on my side.”
“You had skill in your corner. If I’d known your anger was for Tracker’s sake, I would’ve been on your side. I also wouldn’t need to bring you this.” He passed the bag Atticus' way. “It’s the replacement shirt I promised for the one I ruined bleeding on it.”
A laugh burst from Atticus. “You could’ve stolen one from my closet and given it back to me. I likely wouldn’t have noticed, but thank you for keeping your word. Your broken nose healed nicely.”
Foster’s expression didn’t show an ounce of emotion at the observation. “My brother is married to a doctor, but you knew that, didn’t you?”
Foster had been honest with him since the moment they met.
Atticus couldn’t let his ego stop him from doing the same.
He was in therapy for that. “Have you forgotten I’ve met all of them?
But I know what you’re getting at, and of course I’ve thoroughly researched your family.
Unfortunately, I don’t know nearly as much about your family as you’d think.
There’s no information about you before you popped up as Foster Agafonov from thin air. Almost as if you don’t really exist.”
A light knock tore him from the conversation. “Come.” Atticus never took his gaze away from holding Foster’s stare. He needed Foster to understand he would also be doing that soon.
Seth cracked the door open. He stuck his head into the room, as if worried about what he would find. “Your food is here, sir.”
“Saved by a sushi roll,” Atticus mumbled before responding. “You can bring everything in here.”
The tall, blond man, who doubled as the final, boss-level guard to get to Atticus, carried two bags inside and set them on the fully stocked bar. He slipped away, leaving them alone again.
Atticus stood. “Let’s eat.” He bided his time until they were settled back down again with their food. “What does my dossier look like with Tracker on the case?”
Foster lifted one shoulder in a half shrug, and he swallowed the bite he had taken the moment Atticus asked him a question. “If he has one, I’ve never seen it.”
Foster kept him puzzled. He had sneaked into Atticus’ house for six weeks, yet he showed next to no interest in Atticus’ life. His indifference made Atticus want to share. “Would you like to know me?” In a blow to his pride, Atticus chuckled, sounding nervous as he made the inquiry.
Foster took a drink from his bottle of water. He stayed focused on Atticus like he wanted Atticus to know he listened. Still, he gave Atticus nothing. “What are we doing tonight?”
“Fucking.” Atticus dismissed the question even as he answered it. He couldn’t let the topic of Foster’s detachment go. “I’m thirty-five. You are…” Atticus raised his eyebrows and waited.
“Not thirty-five.”
The response was the final straw that snapped him. “As much as I’d love to claim I don’t play games, I absolutely do, but I don’t like this one. You can find somewhere else to go tonight.”
In a flash, Foster’s mouth covered his, and their tongues fought. The aggressive kiss was exactly what he had been waiting for. He knew Foster had passion. He wanted to experience the ride, not get burned by his fire.
Foster pulled away an inch. “Stop acting so fucking spoiled.” He kissed Atticus again.
This time, everything felt way more intimate.
Foster kissed him slow and shallow, the way Atticus imagined he did while making love.
This time when Foster pulled away, their foreheads met.
They both panted for breath. The lust clogging the air was too thick for them to get any oxygen.
“For the record, it’s not an act. I am spoiled.”
Foster chuckled. He stole another quick kiss before moving away. They stared at each other in silence.
Atticus couldn’t take it. Foster had been watching him for weeks and still looked as if he couldn’t tear his gaze away from Atticus.
“What do you see when you look at me?” Atticus asked quietly so he wouldn’t break the spell.
“A beautiful, fascinating, isolated, and uncherished creature.”
“Oh. You see yourself.”
They sat in silence, holding each other’s gaze. Atticus wasn’t so sure he knew where this was headed any longer. They didn’t feel like a game anymore.
Foster relived every word of his conversation with Atticus while trapped in a dissociated drive.
Seconds before Foster passed the exit to go home, he changed his mind and kept driving.
Atticus had wanted to know if Foster had read his dossier.
Foster hadn’t, but only because the thought never crossed his mind.
He had been too busy plotting his constant stalking.
Foster whimpered. That kiss, though. Holy shit.
He had intentionally tried to goad Atticus into anger, because damn.
When Atticus was irritated, his entire body lit, flashing in his eyes and vibrating through his skin.
Foster had needed to taste that fire so badly.
Now he had mixed feelings about his actions.
While Foster didn’t regret a damn thing, he had to admit he was more curious than ever.
While Club Affinity wasn’t open to customers yet for the day, they were open to feed the homeless.
Foster knew he could have called Tracker to give him a heads up.
This visit was pride-stinging enough. He only wanted to make the request once and, hopefully, be out before Tracker had too much time to think.
Letting curiosity grow in their family was a bad thing.
Once inside, Foster nodded at people as he passed. He wasn’t one to shit on the homeless. His entire family had gone without a place to live for a while after escaping the Russian spy program that trained them. He knew too well how it felt to go hungry.
Tracker sat at the table closest to the food with Zeus. They smiled at his approach.
Foster dipped his chin in greeting to Zeus first before focusing on Tracker.
Tracker didn’t give him time to say hi. “He lives. I haven’t seen you in ages.”
Foster snorted at the ridiculous statement.
“You saw me yesterday, and I know you. There isn’t a move I’ve made you haven’t tracked.
” As the words left his lips, the horror set in.
Tracker had probably checked his location several times over the last few weeks and knew exactly where he had been.
He supposed that made this visit less of a surprise.
“We didn’t get to talk yesterday, but I know you prefer to keep to yourself. I’m never surprised when I don’t see you around.”
Foster nodded along, wondering if he should feel some way about that statement. Now wasn’t the time. “Is it okay if we talk?”
Tracker must have heard something in Foster’s voice. He immediately stood. “Let’s go where it’s quiet.” He kissed Zeus. “We’ll be right back.”
Their fingers linked and didn’t part until Tracker moved too far away to keep holding on.
“God, I never thought these words would pass my lips. You two are too sweet together.” Foster rolled his eyes as he spoke his mind, hoping he didn’t look as dumb as he felt.
Tracker chuckled under his breath. “You’ve always done what you’ve wanted with no fear. Things haven’t been that way for me. There’s a lot Zeus does for me that I’ve never experienced before him. You can’t know how much I love him for that.”
Maybe not, but Foster could imagine. He was the guy who hung back, but he was in the background of everyone’s life with a purpose. Foster was exactly that. He was their aide. Their final backup and rescue plan. He was who he had been trained to be. Foster supposed that would never change.
At his silence, Tracker’s chatter became more serious. “Then again, maybe you do get it.”
“You don’t have to mollify me.” Foster realized he had come off as insulting by ignoring Tracker’s confessions. He was too used to not having a voice or the words. “It’s not you. I know you deserve everything he does for you and more. I’m just not good at conversation.”
Tracker led Foster inside his security room in a hidden section of the building. He shut the door behind them before pulling out a chair and offering it to Foster. Foster sat while Tracker claimed a seat for himself.
“Now. We can speak freely and without fear of interruption. What’s up?”
Foster tapped his fingers on his thigh. He forced himself to stop, only for his knee to start bobbing. His gaze wouldn’t meet Tracker’s, so he tried to look interested in the room as he spoke. “I know you have a file on everyone in our lives. Could I see Atticus’?”
Thankfully, Tracker didn’t miss a beat and make him feel put on the spot. “I don’t have one on him.”
Well, fuck. Foster stared at a spot over Tracker’s shoulder. He had humiliated himself for nothing.
“But I probably know anything you want to ask.” Foster’s gaze fully focused on Tracker.
“He’s my friend, but you’re my brother.” He truly was.
Tracker was his true brother by blood. That wasn’t supposed to mean anything in their family.
It didn’t to Foster, but he wasn’t sure that was true with Tracker.
“I love you. I won’t ask you to betray his trust by telling anything he confided in you.”
A smile that could make the world sigh touched Tracker’s lips. He had such a trustworthy face. “Atticus would never confide anything to anyone. His ego is too big. Anything I know he would likely tell anyone who cared about him enough to listen.”
“Three men broke in last night and tried to kill him.”
Tracker’s shoulders slumped. “Two attempts on his life in one day? He must be exhausted with this bullshit.”
“Apparently, it was three. What bullshit is he involved in?” Foster had to know. It wasn’t every day people had multiple brushes with death or had the skills to immediately put an end to the situation.
“Atticus’ father is Rush Cavern.”
“Holy shit.” Butch and Rush Cavern were brothers.
While Rush had been the one to marry into extraordinary wealth, together they tripled what Rush had by taking over Texas ports, sky, and roads as the exclusive drug traffickers.
Foster already knew that last part about Rush for one reason and one reason only.
Their team had been hired to kill Rush. A job executed with perfection.
“Holy shit,” Foster repeated. He had so many questions.
A piece of the puzzle of Atticus clicked into place.
He hadn’t ended up in their lives by chance.
Not with Atticus’ ability to find out anything he wanted.
Tracker made a dismissive gesture. “I know what you’re thinking.
Zeus was on top of that fire before any of us knew he existed.
Atticus had triggered several of Zeus’ online alarms when he started looking for us.
He used his looks and Atticus’ vanity to draw Atticus here.
Once Zeus secured Atticus’ membership, he had access to every aspect of Atticus’ life.
He had been monitoring the situation, waiting for Atticus to reveal his intentions. ”
“Then Atticus beat the brakes off of him for hurting you.”
Tracker nodded. “Mystery not exactly solved, but he genuinely cares about me, and he knows I love him. He got me through a lot of hard times. I don’t think he means us harm, and we don’t kill people for no reason. That’s not us.”
Foster nodded along. He wouldn’t show how relieved he was, but yeah.
Foster wasn’t sure he could stay away even if he learned Atticus fully intended to slit his throat in his sleep to avenge his father.
He still wasn’t fully satisfied. “What does his dad have to do with everyone trying to kill him? As far as I’ve seen, he runs a legitimate corporation.
” He internally begged for Tracker not to say Atticus had taken over his dad’s business.
They weren’t in Texas, but that was the kind of dirty money that could be managed from anywhere.
“Everything, because everything was left to Atticus. He doesn’t need the bottomless pit of money, but he also refuses to let his uncle have it.
Obviously, Butch thinks that money rightfully belongs to him.
Rush had wanted that money kept out of Butch’s hands for a reason.
Atticus is honoring his father’s wishes.
It’ll literally be the death of him one of these days. ”
Not if Foster had anything to say about it. He knew what he needed to know now. Foster could have his back. That was exactly what he planned to do.