Chapter 2
KIT
The test was a lot easier than I’d expected.
I’d made myself sick over nothing. Between classes, I grabbed food—something my body was thankful for—and went to my final class for the day, the one with the expert from New York City.
I was excited about it because I’d always been interested in organized crime, and this seemed to be the guy to ask questions.
Dr. Mifflin was a peculiar man. He’d jump from the Black Hand in Australia to tax evasion in Chicago midsentence, yet he spoke with a fluidity that felt purposeful.
His assistant, Lor, kept trying to steer him back to the slides, a battle he’d been losing all class.
But my attention kept drifting to the men in suits.
Four sat in the front row, their alert expressions reminding me of War.
Another five stood across the hall, their eyes roaming constantly.
My classmates didn’t seem to notice, but I couldn’t ignore them.
Why did an academic need this much security?
“So then, this buff guy comes running toward me—he had a pink unicorn tattoo, right here.” Dr. Mifflin gestured to his upper arm, midstory.
“He trips! On instinct, I jump out of the way, and he goes into the lake.” The class laughed, along with one of the men in the front row, a blond who seemed more relaxed than his companions.
The others remained stone-faced. They weren’t here to learn.
Lor tapped Dr. Mifflin’s shoulder. “Sir, I think we’ve gone over time. We should wrap it up.”
“Right.” Dr. Mifflin laughed. “I think we’re done for the day. Thank you so much for coming and listening to my lecture. It’s been a while since I’ve done this in front of a classroom.”
The students, myself included, clapped enthusiastically. Dr. Mifflin blushed, waving his hand in thanks. Nearly everyone filed out of the hall, except for a few who stayed to ask him questions. I also remained behind, the last one.
Dr. Mifflin was packing his belongings when I approached him with a smile.
“Doctor?”
He glanced up at me with a wide grin. “Hi. Do you have questions, too? Professor Luna promised me we’d have this hall for the rest of the afternoon, so I won’t rush you. It’s a much better atmosphere than the classes I had at home. I was always being told to move on, that I lingered too long.”
Behind me, the four men I’d noticed had fallen into a light conversation, leaning in toward each other. A redhead spoke with an Irish accent. “Where are we going for dinner tonight? Ye know how Vail gets when we’re out of town. We’ll take him somewhere good.”
The five men on the other side of the hall remained stiff and alert, as if watching for a boogeyman.
Dr. Mifflin glanced between me and the men I was staring at, then chuckled. “Don’t worry about them. Those guys—” He gestured at the four. “—are my boyfriends.”
“All of them?” My mouth fell open and I snapped it shut. Four boyfriends? The idea was so foreign, so far outside my experience, that I couldn’t quite process it. I stared from one man to the next, trying to understand.
Dr. Mifflin’s cheeks flushed a deep red. “Yes. I’ve been very lucky.”
I tried to study them without being obvious.
The blond was slim and muscular, like a swimmer.
The redhead next to him was bigger but dwarfed by the other two.
One of them, a brunet with a slicked back tapered cut and a cocky smirk, seemed to be watching me.
The last man was just as large, with vigilant eyes, wavy brown hair, and an unreadable expression.
An uncomfortable feeling settled in my stomach from the men’s attention, and I quickly looked away.
“And the others?” I asked, glancing at the second group across the hall.
Leland always said I asked too many questions when something piqued my interest, and I couldn’t bite my tongue now. I was curious. Leland also said my curiosity would get me killed one day, and knowing him, he was probably right. Hopefully, not today, though.
Dr. Mifflin’s blush deepened until even his forehead and ears went pink, and he cleared his throat.
Lor, who’d been wiping off the whiteboard, came over and patted his shoulder in sympathy.
“Uh, yes. They are for me and Lor. We’ve had a bit of trouble at home, and they’ve come with us for our protection. Our boss has provided them for us.”
I cocked my head. “MCU must be a good college to work for. That’s where you taught when you wrote your books, right?”
He laughed. “Not anymore. No, we work privately now.”
I wanted to ask more questions, but the stern brunet with the irritating smirk spoke up.
“Did ye have class-related questions for ’im?
” His gaze narrowed on me, and I took a moment to appreciate the angles of his face and nose.
He was handsome, but a seriousness in his expression struck a chord of fear inside me.
Even though Dad had spent my entire life teaching me self-defense and taking me to a firing range—which I absolutely hated—I had a feeling I would be outmatched by this guy.
Hell, they would all be able to destroy me, I was sure of it.
“Uh, yeah.” I laughed nervously and turned my attention back to Dr. Mifflin.
“I had some questions about the mob. You talked a lot about New York City and Chicago, and I know that’s where most of the activity happens, the big cities, but what about New Gothenburg?
Our city is known for motorcycle clubs and criminals, but I’ve never heard anything about the mafia here. ”
Dr. Mifflin’s eyebrows furrowed in thought. He crossed his arms and stroked his chin. “You know, there has never been much mob history here. From what I know, the Italians were here for a few years back in the nineties, but they didn’t stay long.”
“Do you know why?” I leaned closer to him. “I’m studying criminal justice, and I’m really interested in organized crime. I want to help bring down mobs, but I don’t want to go through the police force, you know? Maybe a profiler. I’m not sure yet.”
Someone snorted behind me. I didn’t know which of the four men it was, but I huffed in annoyance.
Dr. Mifflin waved his hand. “Ignore them.” He bounced on his feet and grabbed my upper arms. “You do what you love. What’s your name?”
“Kit.” I grinned.
“Kit, I’m Vail.” He pulled me toward the front row, near the four men, and pushed me into a chair.
He took the seat beside me. “To be honest, New Gothenburg does intrigue me. You’re right, it’s known for criminal activity from the motorcycle clubs.
But I wonder why the Italians didn’t stay here long?
Every city has its purpose, and New Gothenburg isn’t small.
” He glanced to the right, eyes narrowed and lost in thought.
“Sometimes I wonder if it’s because of Derek. ”
“Derek?”
The big man with brown waves cleared his throat. “Little doc, enough. Remember what we told you?”
Dr. Mifflin blanched and gave me an apologetic smile. “Ignore that I said that.”
“No, Dr. Mifflin, please. Who’s Derek? Is he a player here?” I thought about Dad and chuckled inwardly at the idea of him being a big criminal in New Gothenburg. He hated speeding, let alone breaking any other law.
The redhead rose and walked to us, holding out his hand to Vail. “I think that’s enough for today, angel. You were paid to talk to the class, not answer little questions afterward. And Fallon—” He gestured at the blond. “—needs to eat sooner rather than later.”
Vail nodded and took the redhead’s hand.
He gave me a gentle smile and held up a finger.
Pulling his hand from the redhead’s, he rushed to the desk at the front of the classroom and opened one of his folders.
He pulled out a piece of paper and a pen, then came back to me.
“Here, write your name and number on this. Maybe we could discuss your future. There are a lot of good programs to consider if you’re going to pursue this subject long-term. ” He gave his men a sweet stare.
The stern Irishman snorted.
I quickly wrote my name and number down before he could change his mind and passed the paper to him.
The smile on Vail’s face slipped as he read it. “Kit Uhlig? I don’t remember you being on my class roster.”
“That’s my name,” I said, nodding eagerly. “But for school I’m enrolled as Christopher McIntyre. It was my mom’s maiden name, and after the divorce, my dad wanted me to use it for official records. It’s complicated. I still go by Kit Uhlig for most things.”
The big man with wavy brown hair shot to his feet, snatching the paper from Vail’s hand. His eyes narrowed on the name, and with a sharp, deliberate motion, he tore the paper in half. He held the two pieces out to me.
“No.”
“Aspen—” Vail started, but the man shot him a silencing glance.
I stared at the shredded paper, the pieces trembling in his grip. My own name looked back at me, ripped apart and mangled.
“He asked for it,” I managed, my voice barely a whisper.
“And I said no.” Aspen crossed his massive arms, his suit pulling at his wide biceps. His hair was shiny under the lights, and I had to tilt my chin back to stare up at him.
“Aspen—” Dr. Mifflin started again, but Aspen interrupted him.
“Leave.”
I swallowed, realizing I had no choice. Offering Dr. Mifflin an apologetic smile, I rose, grabbed my gear, and powerwalked to the door. I glanced over my shoulder to find all four of his boyfriends huddled around Dr. Mifflin, their conversation a tense whisper.
I frowned, a hot knot of embarrassment and confusion tightening my gut. What did my name mean to them?
Shaking my head, I left the hall. I pulled out my phone and texted Leland to tell him I was finished with class.
Leland
Meet you in front of the Bouchard Building.
I sighed and shoved my phone into the back pocket of my jeans. Sure enough, when I got to the front door of the criminology building—named for a donor—Leland was waiting, leaning against the brick wall and playing on his phone.