14. GAMBIT
14
GAMBIT
Wren woke him up after a while to tell him he was going home and tried to slip away, but Blair insisted on walking him down. They reached the Audi with little hindrance except for Wren having to slow his stride for Blair to keep up. Blair didn’t know if he was limping because of his leg, his ass, or both.
He put a hand on the door before Wren could open it. “If you see anybody suspicious, or someone bothers you, just call me.”
“Why, are you going to come kill them?” Wren asked with a note of sarcasm, bringing his hand to the side of Blair’s face.
Blair turned to press his lips against Wren’s palm. “If I have to. Yeah, I will.”
Wren shook his head with the faintest ghost of a smile, like the answer was amusing to him, and kissed Blair goodbye. His mouth lingered, sitting softly against Blair’s in a way that was rather at odds with Wren’s claims to not feel anything, but Blair let him get in his car without calling him out on it. The engine roared to life and Blair watched the sleek black car pull into the street. He was surprised by how easy it was to answer Wren that he would kill someone for him, and how true it was. Blair was used to being willing to kill for those he was sworn to defend but he’d never felt that protectiveness for anyone outside of Incindious or his family. He’d never felt a lot of things that he felt for Wren.
Unease prickled under Blair’s skin even once the taillights of the Audi had long faded into the distance. He knew he was alone on the sidewalk, but he swore he could feel Phantom’s eyes on him, observing silently and unseen like the ghostly specter they were named for. It was as though his newfound weakness was emblazoned on his chest alongside his tattoo, just begging to be used against him.
Just let them fucking try it. They could come at him all they liked but if they touched Wren, he would kill them. He would kill them all.
Blair’s alarm trilled him into consciousness at nine o’clock. He groaned and slapped the screen until he hit either Snooze or Dismiss. He didn’t care which as long as it shut up. Mornings usually didn’t bother him and it wasn’t even that early but he had underestimated how sore he would be. He often slept on his back, but he had tossed and turned most of the night when a flare of discomfort would send him back onto his side.
He let his head flop to the side and breathed in. Coffee and expensive cologne. Sunshine.
Blair was dressed by nine-thirty—in a sleeveless turtleneck that was tighter than he liked, but a necessary evil to cover the hickeys on his neck—and went downstairs to meet Spencer so they could go pick up a shipment.
As usual, Spencer and Koji made small talk while Blair checked the guns. Blair usually tuned them out, but the tail end of a sentence caught his attention as Spencer said, “—and with Jinx coming back at the end of the summer, we can’t be too prepared. We may be well armed but Jinx is an assassin by trade.”
Blair shuddered, closing the crate. The mention of Jinx had him looking around as if they would suddenly appear from the shadows, but he only saw shipping containers, a couple of small boats, and further down were the bright yellows and oranges of the construction equipment where they had been working on the docks. He watched the caution tape ripple and snap in the wind, a briny aftertaste settling in the back of his throat when he inhaled.
Spencer asked if Blair wanted to come with him to Felix’s place, but for once, Blair declined. He just wanted the knots in his stomach to disappear. Spencer dropped him off at home, and Blair found himself walking towards his bike rather than the stairs up to his apartment. He really didn’t want to be alone with his anxiety at the moment.
He sat sideways on his bike and tapped Wren’s contact before he could talk himself out of it.
“What?” Wren snapped.
Blair’s eyebrows went up. “Sorry, I didn’t know you were busy.”
“Oh. It’s you.” Wren almost sounded relieved.
Blair chuckled, feeling some of the weight lift off his chest. “Who was that friendly greeting meant for?”
“One of my insufferable classmates. I gave Andy my number because we were on the same rotation, and of course he gave it to everyone else. Now they’re harassing me.”
It was a little too hot to be sitting on his bike, shoes planted on the heat absorbent asphalt, but the discomfort was worth the much needed distraction of talking to Wren. “Why are they bothering you?”
“They want me to come to a stupid dinner they’re having for all of us who are graduating.”
“I could go threaten them for you.”
Wren laughed, the sound wrapping around Blair’s anxiety and strangling it into submission. “Tempting, but I think I’ll just silence my phone.”
“Y’know, not to sound like your annoying classmates, but graduating from medical school is pretty awesome. Maybe you should go celebrate.” He scuffed the toe of his shoe against the pavement, sending a rock rolling across the white line into the next parking space.
“I don’t even like talking to them.”
“How about I go with you and you can talk to me. Come on, you know they’re not gonna leave you alone about it.”
Wren sighed. “I guess. Come here, I’ll drive.”
The phone beeped in his ear. He really had to teach Wren how to say goodbye before hanging up.
Blair had been to Wren’s building enough times by now that it no longer seemed as ritzy and imposing. Wren’s door was a welcome sight. Blair knocked, and assumed the muttering on the other side indicated for him to come in.
Wren turned from the desk as Blair entered, and his expression shifted to something that made Blair’s heart beat a little faster. He curled one long finger at him. “Come here.”
Blair wondered what it said about him that he complied without even questioning him. He crossed the living room and stopped in front of Wren, who simply curled his finger again. Blair swallowed. He lowered himself onto Wren’s lap, sliding a leg under each arm of the chair so his feet skimmed the floor.
Wren hummed and ran his hands from the high collar of Blair’s shirt down his bare arms. “I like this.”
Blair kissed him before he could say anything else. He smoothed his hands over Wren’s white dress shirt, down to where it was untucked from his tight black jeans, then back up before Blair could decide to wander any lower. Wren’s arms snaked around him, wrapping around his back. The memory of Wren being inside him played in full color across the back of his eyelids. More than that, though, the feeling of closeness had imprinted itself on Blair’s skin, and he ached to feel it again, that level of connection they found when their bodies joined together.
“I don’t think my favorite part about sex is supposed to be my favorite part of sex,” Blair said against Wren’s mouth, halfway muffling the words. He didn’t really mean to say them out loud but now they hung in the air and the rest of his thoughts spilled out to join them. “I think there’s something wrong with me.”
“There’s a lot of things wrong with you, Blair,” Wren said with obvious amusement. Blair frowned and tried to get up but Wren turned the chair and kept Blair from getting to his feet. He started to speak but Wren’s thumb settled on his lower lip to silence him, then he continued, “The way you feel about sex isn’t one of them.”
Warmth rushed into Blair’s face. Wren said it the same way he talked about his medical stuff, like he was stating a fact—and a rather uninteresting one at that—but something about the soft pressure of his thumb on Blair’s mouth and the way his eyes looked in the dark room made Blair’s stomach feel lighter.
Blair smiled. He couldn’t help it. “Let’s go.”
“If you’re that determined for me to celebrate, I would much rather—”
“Come on .”
On the way downstairs, and as they walked to the car, Blair’s mind started to wander again. Straight to a place that drained all the lightness out of Blair’s body and replaced it with lead.
An assassin by trade.
The words came back to mind unbidden and, while he usually waited for a cue from Wren since he knew he wasn’t comfortable with much affection that wasn’t sexual, Blair found himself reaching for Wren’s hand once the Audi was in gear. He didn’t know if Wren gave him a weird look for it, because he fixed his gaze outside the window, not wanting to explain himself. He just wanted the feeling of Wren’s fingers in between his to get the threat of Jinx out of his head.
Blair had to talk Wren out of leaving the minute they pulled up to the restaurant. After some coaxing, he got Wren to go inside with him. It was a nice place, modern and sleek with a lounge area that Wren’s classmates had overtaken. The flamboyant redhead—Andy, if Blair remembered correctly—waved excitedly when he saw them and scooted over to make room.
Hanging out with them wasn’t so bad, but then again Blair was used to being in large groups. Wren let Blair talk enough for both of them, drawing a little closer to Blair when he started feeling crowded, and Blair didn’t think Wren even realized he was doing it but it was fucking adorable. No feelings, my ass .
Wren endured until the other students started getting progressively more drunk and loud, and knocked his foot against Blair’s to get his attention. Blair glanced over and Wren gave him the closest thing to a pleading look his face was probably capable of (which meant it looked just slightly less annoyed by Blair’s existence than usual). Blair figured Wren would just leave when it got to be too much, no more than he cared about the opinions of these people, but he’d underestimated just how bad Wren’s social anxiety was.
He could see the relief in Wren’s eyes when he took the hint and made an excuse for them to leave. Andy wailed his sorrows about it but yelled after them to have a good night as they slipped away. Blair kept a hand on Wren’s back as they wove between tables and eventually out into the fresh air. Well—it was Manhattan, so somewhat fresh air.
Wren relaxed once they were out of the restaurant, but Blair did the opposite. He felt too exposed.
Blair checked up and down the street as they crossed it to the parking garage. There was no logical reason for Phantom to be there or to have found out the dinner was even happening, but too many injuries were piling up to underestimate them.
“You’re paranoid,” Wren said as they rode the elevator to the floor they parked on.
“I’ve got a reason to be.”
Wren hummed, and when Blair looked up at him his eyes seemed far away, like his body was present but his mind had gone somewhere else. “My father was paranoid.”
“Is he better now?”
“I don’t know,” Wren said, taking out his keys. “I try not to listen to him.”
Headlights flashed down the row as Wren unlocked the Audi remotely. Blair didn’t like the way Wren seemed to detach at the mention of his dad, so Blair didn’t ask anything else. He had never pegged Wren’s father as a strictly bad guy after he went to the expense of putting Wren through medical school—and Blair could think of worse offenses than pressuring your kid into such a lucrative career—but he was also beginning to think the man wasn’t all there, judging from the way Wren talked about him.
They pulled out of the parking garage and onto the main road. Blair watched the cars pass by on the opposite side of the street. The worst of evening traffic was over but there were enough dinnertime stragglers left that no one was moving especially fast. He felt like there were as many taxis on the road as regular cars, if not more. He was even more surprised to see a motorcycle fly up the center of the lane, narrowly avoiding the sideview mirrors of the cars on either side. He chuckled; he had done that a time or two in heavy traffic. It was a nice bike, too, black with metallic green flames running down—
Wait .
He’d heard someone describe a paint job like that.
He snatched his phone up and it took three tries to unlock it with his shaking fingers. Wren was talking, probably asking what his malfunction was, but it took every bit of his focus to scroll through his contacts and god dammit had the green button to call someone with always been that small? He finally managed to press it and put the phone to his ear. In the rearview mirror he saw the bike straddling the two lanes opposite them, stopped by a red light at the intersection they had just passed through.
Spencer answered on the second ring. “What’s up, Kennedy?”
“The bike, the one that took Ace away from the bar in College Point. It was black with green flames, right? A street bike built kinda like mine?”
“Yeah, it’s the only one like it that I’ve seen. I haven’t seen it since, though, not that I’d expect them to hang around Flushing unless they have a death wish.”
Blair cursed under his breath as the light turned green and the bike sped in the opposite direction. He saw Wren look over, likely made curious by Blair’s half of the conversation. “Looks like they hang around Manhattan instead.”
“Try to get the plate number if you have them. You won’t be able to catch them, they’re too fast, but get us anything we can work with.”
Blair put the phone on speaker to open a text draft he could type in. “I only caught a few numbers, it was going the other— shit !”
His phone slid off his lap and clattered into the floorboard as the Audi fishtailed into a U-turn around the median. Horns blared and Spencer’s voice sounded tinny from under the seat where his phone ended up. Wren’s foot went to the clutch and he rammed into a higher gear, the engine growling as though excited to finally be put to proper use. Someone else honked at them as Wren wove between two cars.
Blair got a hold of his phone and put it back to his ear with wide eyes. “I think I might have someone that can keep up with them.”
“Don’t engage them, Blair. See if you can follow them back to their base and then get the hell out,” Spencer said, but he couldn’t mask the enthusiasm in his voice at the prospect of getting more intel.
“Understood.”
He hung up and put a hand on the door to steady himself as Wren took off down an empty turn lane, past the stalled traffic, and whipped back in front of them just as the light turned green. The motorcycle was in sight again.
“Do you think you can stay far enough behind for him not to know we’re following?” Blair asked.
Wren jerked the wheel and they swerved into the right lane. “He’ll never know we’re here.”
The back end of the car spun out again, Blair narrowly bracing himself to avoid smacking into the window as they took a sharp right into an alley. It didn’t even look big enough for the Audi to fit through, and Blair didn’t think he could have got so much as a finger between the sideview mirrors and the brick walls blurring past them. The vents carried in the smell of burning rubber when Wren drifted sideways, toward the left, and punched the gas. He didn’t let up until they passed the next alley and Blair looked down to see a flash of metallic green on the other end.
“What if they turn off between blocks?” Blair asked.
“I’ve been driving in Manhattan since I was in high school. There’s nowhere that bike can go in this city where I can’t find it.” Wren had matched the motorcycle’s speed, and every time they came to an alley or intersection Blair looked over to make sure it was still there.
True to Blair’s concerns, they vanished from sight in another two blocks. Wren turned left and began shifting up again. “They had to have turned left, we would have seen them turn out if they had gone right.”
“They’re going to the bridge,” Blair said, recognizing their surroundings from when he picked Wren up from school and took him to the Gantry Plaza.
Wren soared under a yellow light just as it turned red. “Must be going back to College Point.”
Blair watched the Phantom member weave in and out of traffic ahead of them, not seeming any wiser to their presence where they lingered about three cars back. He watched Wren’s fingers drum against his thigh. It made his own tingle in response, like his muscles were already in the habit of reaching for him, but he had to focus. He busied himself instead with taking his gun out of his waistband and putting it in his lap, safety on.
“Planning on a fight?” Wren asked.
“As much as I would love to blow a few extra assholes into this guy, I can’t storm Phantom’s base without backup. I just need to see where they’re going and report it back to Spencer and the boss. On the off chance they do catch on, though, I don’t think they’re going to throw confetti and give us a welcoming party.”
Wren glanced over at him, at the loose hold he had on the 92. “You think it could get hostile.”
“If this goes wrong, yeah. But don’t worry.” His fingers tightened around the embossed grip.
“They don’t scare me.”
“They shouldn’t. I’m not gonna let them hurt you.”
Wren’s lips tilted up into something more genuine than his usual taunting smirk. It was a smile that faded from his face by the time they reached College Point but lingered in his eyes. He almost looked content, and Blair liked how it looked on him, wanted to chip away at Wren until that smile wasn’t such a rare occurrence.
He had to set that aside for right now, though. Traffic had thinned to the point that following the bike was a gambit with the constant risk of being noticed. Blair just hoped they were at ease in their own territory and didn’t fully have their guard up.
They were approaching a street made up of a closed down strip mall, and further down, a warehouse. Wren turned his headlights off and slowed to reduce the sound of the engine. The streetlamps were the only thing still lit among the row of abandoned buildings. Blair’s hands started to sweat against his gun.
Chink, chink.
It wasn’t the same warehouse, but it was making Blair’s throat tighten up all the same. Even though it usually didn’t give him any more grief these days than itching and the occasional throb, he could feel the echo of pain from that night searing down his leg.
Blair, he’s got my-
“Blair,” Wren said, covering Blair’s hand with his.
Blair blinked himself back to the present. “Sorry. Last time I crossed paths with Phantom at a warehouse, I got shot, so. Yeah.”
“If that happens, I’ll just sew you up again.” Wren returned his hand to the wheel and eased forward now that the motorcycle had vanished around the slight curve that led to the warehouse.
Blair chuckled. He wasn’t happy with their location but it was a comforting reminder that he was with a surgeon. The warehouse came into view, and Wren backed in behind the strip mall, away from any streetlamps but close enough to the warehouse for them to see what was going on under its industrial floodlights. The rider parked their bike and tugged their helmet off. He didn’t look much older than Blair, though he was a lot bigger.
Blair zoomed in as far as he could with his phone and started snapping pictures in rapid succession. He made sure to get every surveillance camera in sight, and switched it to video when the man approached a narrow steel door. He punched something into a keypad that flashed green and then he was going inside. Blair ended the video and took a couple final pictures of the bike.
“Let’s get out of here,” he said, attaching all the pictures to a text and sending them to Spencer. The file size of the video was too large so he would have to show him that in person.
Rather than pulling forward, back into view of the warehouse, Wren shifted into reverse and backed down the backside of the strip mall before doing a one-eighty to exit the far end of the parking lot. Blair’s eyes were glued to the rearview mirror until they were off that street, and he checked it constantly until they were out of College Point altogether.
“We did it,” he said, sagging back into the seat. “This is huge, this is what we needed. I’ve gotta meet up with everyone and talk about what we found.”
Wren clicked his tongue. “Don’t go jumping out of the car just yet, you still have to get your motorcycle from my place.”
Blair had no objections to that. He was excited to share this with everyone, but he liked being with Wren. The drive back to Manhattan passed by so quickly that he was almost disappointed, even if knew the sooner he met up with Spencer the better.
He got out of the car and stretched. For possibly the first time ever, he was glad he wasn’t any taller. He couldn’t imagine cramming any more than his meager five and a half feet into the Audi. He gave it an appreciative pat anyway, since they couldn’t have caught up to Phantom’s rider without it.
Wren circled around to lean against the passenger’s side door, and Blair offered him a sheepish grin. “Sorry your pre-graduation party got so crazy.”
“At least it wasn’t boring. Besides, I would rather chase a gangster all over New York than socialize with those idiots again.”
“They’re your idiots,” Blair said, poking him in the chest.
Wren caught his hand and used it to pull him forward. “You’re my idiot.”
Blair let his weight fall into Wren, who was in turn supported by the car at his back, the scuffling of their feet echoing through the parking garage. His legs still felt like jelly from nerves so he tilted his head back and let Wren meet him halfway. He was sure his legs would just give up if he tried to get on his tiptoes.
It would have been easy to part his lips, to tangle his fingers in Wren’s hair, maybe get dragged up to his apartment to revel in more of the pleasures Wren had so recently introduced him to, but he had to get back to the bar. He made himself step back.
“I should go,” he said. He took his keys out and twisted the ring around his finger. “Look, I know you don’t care about the gang and the war and all that, but if I hadn’t been with you tonight we might have never caught that guy. And I definitely don’t think anyone else could have kept up with him. So, thanks.”
Wren huffed. “Go meet with your gang before they start any criminal activities without you.”
“You’re an ass.” He straddled his bike that was parked next to Wren’s car. “Get some sleep, Sunshine.”
Wren waved him off and he started the engine. It was almost deafening in the parking garage. As soon as he was back on the road, he rolled the throttle back and leaned forward. No leisurely rides tonight; he was in a hurry. The wind blew his hair out of his face and whipped his dress shirt up his back.
Blair made record time of getting back to Flushing. He let himself into the bar where Spencer, Julian, Felix and Nolan already waited. Surprisingly, Adam came out of the bathroom and dropped himself on the couch.
“Good to see you up and around,” Blair said, locking the door behind him.
Adam rubbed his chest. “Up is generous and around is an overstatement, but I’m here.”
Spencer’s laptop sat open on the bar and Blair recognized the pictures he had sent over. Julian was sitting on a barstool, clicking through them. “I recognize these cameras. If I’m not mistaken, these are the ones that came out a couple years ago with integrated facial recognition. You can upload images to the corresponding software and anyone who isn’t recognized will trigger an alarm.”
“I’ve got a video of the guy entering something at the panel by the door, if you think you can do anything with it,” Blair said, hopping onto the stool next to him.
Julian passed him the end of the USB cable already attached to the laptop. “I can try.”
Blair’s phone vibrated as it recognized the cable, and Julian transferred the video to the laptop. Julian had obviously come out in a hurry, with none of his usual flair to be found in his faded Milan Fashion Week shirt and sweatpants. Spencer stood on the other side of the bar, watching the laptop screen upside down as Julian zoomed in on the video.
“There’s a lot of different keypads out there so I could be wrong but that panel looks custom built. Computers are Phantom’s thing, it wouldn’t surprise me,” Julian said.
“I don’t give a shit if their little box there says we can come in,” Felix said, his red Tims dropping to the floor as he stood up from the couch. Cigarette smoke wafted around the bar as he came to join them. “We burn it down.”
“We can’t know for sure that Isaac is there. If he’s not, we’ll be burning down the only place that might have something to put us on his trail,” Spencer said.
Nolan, still on the couch with Adam, shook his head. “I’m with the boss. We’ve tried being patient and forming a strategy, and it hasn’t gotten us anywhere. We need to hit them before they move again.”
“It’s for naught if we don’t take Isaac down with them,” Spencer said, voice climbing. “Phantom’s resources are rooted in the Internet, we can wipe out as many members as we want and there will be plenty more to take their place. If we want to shut them down, we need to take out their leader.”
The argument more or less dissolved into chaos after that, with everyone shouting except Blair and Julian. Blair wanted to see if they even had a chance of getting into that warehouse before he voiced an opinion, and everyone already knew what Julian’s stance would be. Besides being Incindious’ resident pacifist, he was also a thief. His go-to would always be going in undetected and staying that way for as long as possible.
Blair dropped his forehead on the bar. He could see both sides. There was nothing that would satisfy him more than reducing that warehouse to a pile of ashes but if Isaac wasn’t there, they may never get another chance at catching him. It was a damn lucky break he found the warehouse at all. With how things had been going, he didn’t think for a minute they would be so fortunate a second time. The most ideal plan of action would be to get into the warehouse, either confirm that Isaac was there or search it for anything useful about where he might be, and then burn it down. Unfortunately that would require someone who could out-hack Phantom, and they didn’t have anyone like that.
Blair repeated the thought to himself and slowly raised his head from the bar.
Or did they?