In Too Deep

2. Chapter Two

~Cara~

The handsome musician gave me a charming smile as we browsed the aisles of the Marks Spencer Food shop. “I should probably find out your name if we’re having dinner together. I’m Kian.”

His pronunciation of it as Kee-uhn backed up my guess at his Irish accent, and a flush of pride filled me that I’d picked up on it. Maybe spending more time out of the house and talking to real people at my job would help my ear for accents as well as my socialization skills.

Since he only gave me his first name, I followed suit. “Cara, with a C.”

Having people spell my name with a K had always been one of my pet peeves, along with people pronouncing it Care-ah rather than Car-ah, but my introduction made Kian laugh. “I didn’t realize there would be a spelling test later. Should we take bets on who would win?”

My competitive side immediately came to the fore, but I pulled it back at the last minute, sensing a trap. “Wait, do you have one of those crazy Irish spellings with seven silent letters?”

He chuckled warmly as he picked up an egg and watercress sandwich. “Please. There’s only four, let’s not exaggerate.”

I smiled back, feeling strangely comfortable with him for someone I’d just met. That rarely happened to me, which might be part of the reason I didn’t have very many friends. My parents had always been selective about who I could spend time with and Marco was just as bad, if not worse. I’d never minded it much before since I always had music to occupy my time, but since the accident, I’d become more aware of the lack of people in my life who hadn’t been introduced to me by my brother. It made me wonder if something was simply wrong with me that I couldn’t meet people like everyone else did.

“Is this a typical night for you, Cara-with-a-C?” Kian asked as I debated over my own choice of sandwich, finally settling on a crayfish and mango salad instead. Since he’d offered to pay, I handed the salad over to him and he raised his eyebrows curiously. “You’ll throw hundreds of pounds into a stranger’s guitar case but you’ll choose a three-pound salad for dinner? I have to admit I’m intrigued.”

I could see how it looked inconsistent from his point of view. “I told you: the song you were playing is special to me. I don’t usually deal with cash so those notes were all I had. Having a cheap dinner is much more typical for me than throwing cash around, so I guess it was your lucky day.”

His eyes followed me as I grabbed a flavoured water to go with my salad. “I guess it was.”

I turned away before he could see me blush, trying not to read too much into his words. That would be a dead giveaway about just how little experience I had with flirting, assuming he’d actually meant that the way it sounded.

Once he paid for our food, we walked back through the underground station to reach Green Park on the other side of the road, dodging the steady stream of commuters heading in the opposite direction. Kian stayed just behind me, almost protectively, letting me lead the way as we emerged up the ramp from the station into the green expanse of the royal park.

Unlike all the other royal parks in the city, Green Park had no flowers other than the daffodils which popped up each spring. Those had vanished weeks ago, and at this time of year, only trees and grass were visible as far as the eye could see. I’d been told by a tutor once that the wife of King Charles II discovered that her royal husband had been picking flowers in the park to give to one of his many mistresses, so she ordered all the flowers in the park to be dug up so it couldn’t happen again. True or not, the story captured my imagination and I often thought about it whenever I walked through the park, though I couldn’t tell who I sided with more: the wronged queen or the stifled king who just wanted a bit of freedom.

Kian headed straight towards some empty deck chairs, but I called out after him. “Hang on. I usually just sit on the grass. You don’t need to pay for chairs.”

His eyebrows raised as he looked back at me curiously. “You seem utterly determined to make this the cheapest dinner date in London’s history.”

“I don’t remember calling it a date,” I pointed out, my cheeks warming again. “I said you could join me for my planned dinner, and this is my plan.”

He conceded my point, giving a casual shrug as we took a seat on the grass. The sun’s warmth melted into my skin as I raised my face and closed my eyes, letting it wash over me and take all the day’s cares along with it. When my eyes opened again, Kian watched me with a bemused smile. “You looked like you were recharging there for a second.”

I blushed again, trying to play it off. I spent so much time on my own, I sometimes forgot things might seem strange to other people. “That’s pretty accurate. I should have been raised in a warmer climate, I think. The sunshine always makes me feel happier.”

“You’ve always lived in London, then?” He asked the question casually as he handed me my drink and salad, pulling a wooden fork from the bottom of the bag for me to use.

Marco’s warnings echoed in my ears once more, reminding me not to give away any personal information to anyone he hadn’t screened, but the question seemed harmless enough. What did it matter to him where I’d lived?

“I was born in Italy but my parents came here when I was still an infant. I don’t remember it at all.”

“The sun is in your blood after all, then,” he pointed out, taking a bite of his sandwich as he squinted up at the sky. “It rained the day I was born and on pretty much every birthday since. I think the universe might be trying to tell me something.”

“Like what?” The idea of fate and destiny had always intrigued me and his thoughts on the subject had me curious.

“My mam says it meant I’d be a heartbreaker and leave half the county crying over me.” He gave a self-deprecating laugh, though I didn’t think it sounded entirely far-fetched. He really was quite handsome, especially when he laughed. “She thinks she has some kind of gift of foresight, but she’s usually wrong. We love her for trying anyway.”

“We?”

“Me and my brothers. Five of them.”

I nearly choked on my mouthful of salad, and Kian waited patiently as I took a drink to regain my composure. “Five?” I repeated when I could finally breathe again. “Your poor mother has six boys?”

“Why do you assume that’s a bad thing?” he asked, his eyes glinting with amusement. “Maybe we’re all a fucking delight.”

“Six is still too many. Nope. No way.” I shook my head in horror at the thought, making Kian laugh.

“I’m guessing you don’t have five brothers of your own, then. Do you have any?”

The question was perfectly natural and just as harmless as all the rest he’d asked me, but that time, Marco’s voice drowned out my own thoughts in my head. Never talk about our family. That’s rule number one, Cara.

Taking another sip of my water, I changed the subject instead. “I just realized you don’t have your guitar. What did you do with it? Do you live around here?”

A hint of surprise flashed in his eyes, perhaps because I’d avoided answering his question. It did feel rather rude, but he didn’t point that out, answering mine readily enough. “A shop nearby lets me store it when I need to. I’ve got more than one guitar, so I keep it there for the days I’m busking here. Saves me carrying it back and forth all the time. I live over in the east end but the pay’s better at the stations around here.”

I had my mouth open to ask him how long he’d been playing, where else he played, if he made his living that way, and a million other things I was curious about, but before I could get any of them out, I caught sight of the two suited men on their way over to us.

My heart sank.

It hadn’t even been half an hour since I usually got home. I thought I’d have more time.

Kian noticed my distraction and glanced back over his shoulder. When he turned back to me, his expression had taken on a wary hue. “Friends of yours?”

“They’re my security. I guess our dinner is over.”

“Security?” He looked understandably confused. “Is something wrong?”

“No. This is normal. For me, at least.” I got to my feet just as the two men arrived and Kian followed my lead. I didn’t know the names of the two men, by design. Marco insisted I didn’t get too attached.

“Is everything alright here, Miss?” the taller one asked. They were both broad and muscled, tattoos poking out from beneath the necks and cuffs of their identical suits, both with short, dark hair and sunglasses. If it weren’t for the height difference, nothing would distinguish between them.

“It’s fine,” I assured them. “We just finished eating.”

“Then you’ll be ready to head home,” the same man said. The second one seemed to be staring at Kian from behind his glasses, not saying anything.

Reluctantly, I turned to Kian, who still looked bewildered by the appearance of the two men. “Thank you for dinner, and for the song. It was nice to meet you.”

I’d only taken two steps when his voice called out behind me. “Wait, Cara. I didn’t get to ask why the song is special to you.”

No, he hadn’t, but that was just as well. I didn’t feel ready to talk about that just yet.

“She said goodbye,” the shorter of my two bodyguards growled at him, not entirely accurately. I hadn’t actually said that.

Nothing I could say would explain any of this to Kian, so I simply looked back and gave him a tight smile. “Stick to your other songs. They’re much bigger crowd-pleasers.”

Broad, suited shoulders stepped into my line of vision, blocking Kian’s face from my view, and if he made a reply, I didn’t hear it.

“Let’s go, Ms Russo,” the taller man ordered under his breath, and with no other choice, I headed out of the park and back to the safety, and solitude, of home.

~Kian~

My shoes kicked at the pavement in frustration as I made my way to the arranged meeting spot with my handler. Objectively, I had to admit the initial contact with Cara had gone about as well as I could have possibly hoped in terms of establishing a rapport with her, but that only made the outcome more unsatisfying. I had two objectives for that day: first, make contact, and two, set up a second meeting. Unfortunately, we were cut off when we’d only just begun to talk and I hadn’t been able to make any future plans to meet up with her again. I’d have to try to engineer another ‘chance’ meeting, and sooner or later, that would start to seem suspicious. I only had so many attempts where it would seem realistic.

“Alright, Kian?” Neil at the bar greeted me as I walked into my local pub. I’d started going there six months earlier, telling the regulars that I’d just moved into the area. When Marco’s people started asking around about me, which they would, they needed to think I’d been established there for a while. Anything else would raise alarms for them. I needed a life and a backstory completely separate from my real one, so I’d made myself as conspicuous as possible in the local community, playing my guitar at the pub some nights, volunteering at the local food bank, and just being seen out and about so people would know my face even if they didn’t know my name.

This wasn’t some shoddily thrown-together undercover operation. We’d put real effort into playing the long game, trying to cover every angle, and I was determined to make it pay off.

I owed it to Matt to make it count.

“Can’t complain,” I replied to Neil, taking the pint of bitter he offered me without even asking. “You?”

“Same old story,” he said with a laugh. In his fifties, Neil had been running the pub in Bethnal Green on the east side of London for twenty years, and as long as I’d known him, he’d been talking about retiring. I couldn’t see it happening, though. He enjoyed talking to people far too much. If I walked in there in another twenty years, I suspected I’d still find him behind the bar, pulling pints and having a chinwag about the news of the day.

“Could I get a steak and ale pie over at the table under the window? I’m going to try to finish off this new song tonight.”

“You got it. Can’t wait to hear it.”

With a friendly nod, I picked up my pint and headed to my usual table. A chilly draught usually came in from the window, making other customers avoid it, but that worked out well for me. Nobody else sat too close.

Taking a seat, I pulled out my notepad and began to jot down some lyrics that came to me on the tube ride home. That part hadn’t been a lie; I really did have a new song in the works. The reason I’d been chosen to be the front man on this operation had everything to do with the fact that I played and composed my own music. It seemed the perfect way to forge a connection with Cara Russo since pretty much the only thing publicly known about her was what a gifted pianist she’d been.

Until her ‘accident’.

If it weren’t for my musical talent, the job of infiltrating the Russo family probably would have gone to Thomas, who ended up being given the role of my handler instead. He had more experience with operations like this one, and he had just as much motivation as I did to make it work. He, Matt and I had all been in training together, and he wanted to do right by Matt just as much as I did.

Aside from the two of us, only a couple of other people knew about the operation. Secrecy was vital to keep us all safe. Moles existed everywhere, and if Marco Russo figured out what we were up to, I had no illusions about what the outcome would be. Still, I took on that risk willingly. It would be worth it if it helped us bring him down.

“Hey, Kian, nice to see you. Do you mind if I join you?”

Thomas also had a beer in hand as he came up to the table with his casual greeting. He’d been coming to the pub almost as long as I had, on different nights, establishing his own backstory. We’d pretended to meet for the first time just a couple of weeks ago when we came in on the same night and Neil introduced us, guessing we might get along. If anyone paid attention, we’d look like two acquaintances who were just getting to know each other, nothing more.

I had no direct contact with anyone else anymore. My communication went entirely through Thomas. During the day, he had a new job as a computer programmer, his particular skill as music was mine, and no one in his life suspected he’d ever done anything different. Any trace of our previous lives that could be found online had been completely scrubbed while new backgrounds had been fabricated and fake school records, medical records, banking records and job histories had been planted. Our real families were under strict instructions never to mention us on social media. I hadn’t seen my mother or brothers since I stepped into my new life six months ago.

“Sure, have a seat.” I kept my notepad open but flipped to a new page, ready to write down anything I couldn’t say out loud, just in case someone decided to listen in. Although I felt fairly certain no one had followed me there from Green Park, we couldn’t take any chances.

“You didn’t have a chance to eat earlier?” Thomas asked, gesturing to the pie that had just been brought over for me. I understood the coded question; he wanted to know what happened to my dinner with Cara.

“I tried to grab a quick bite but it got interrupted. Would you believe a damn seagull took my sandwich right out of my hands? London’s not even on the coast. Those birds are everywhere.”

He laughed good-naturedly, nodding his head to let me know he got the gist of my message: my target had been taken away. “Does that mean you’re not eating outdoors anymore?”

I scribbled down a note in my notepad while I answered him. “I think keeping a roof over my head for the next little while is the safer option. Less chance of rain too.”

I nudged the notepad a little closer to him so he could read the message, written in our own shorthand: Busk again at the station later this week. See if she stops on her own.

“Sometimes you need to wait for the right weather,” Thomas agreed. “The gulls don’t usually come indoors, do they?”

I got his question: did Cara’s security follow her onto the tube? They hadn’t as long as we’d been tailing her, and they hadn’t that day, but if they were suspicious about seeing us together in the park, they might step up their surveillance. We wouldn’t count on anything.

“I haven’t seen any yet, but you never know. If they’re spooked enough, they might look for shelter.”

The conversation continued that way, mostly shallow nonsense to anyone who might be listening, with me adding the occasional detail in my notepad, until we agreed on a plan of action. I’d wait a few days so it didn’t seem too suspicious, and then I’d play on her morning commute again. I wouldn’t make any move of my own, just in case she had a tail. If she stopped to talk to me, I’d engage cautiously and see how it went.

We made small talk for a few more minutes, and as we started to wrap up the conversation, Thomas returned to my earlier metaphor. “How was your dinner before the gulls took it?”

He meant Cara, naturally. How did Cara and I get along?

I couldn’t answer that in as much detail as I would have liked to. If we could speak freely, I’d tell him that she had been more open than I’d expected. More down-to-earth. We talked easily and there had almost been a moment when we laughed over the size of my family where I’d almost forgotten exactly who she was. Spending time with her wouldn’t be a hardship other than needing to keep in mind who she was at all times. I couldn’t let my guard down, especially since I didn’t know just how involved she was in Marco’s business. I assumed she had to play at least some part, even if only behind the scenes. The chances of her being completely innocent seemed staggeringly small.

Which was a shame, truly, for such a beautiful woman with a surprisingly kind smile.

“The food was good. I’ll probably try it again sometime.”

Thomas chuckled, understanding me completely. “Alright. Well, I’m off, got to get an early start for work in the morning. Have a good week, Kian.”

“You too.” He left me at the table where he’d found me, and I stayed another hour, making sure it didn’t look like I’d gone there just to see him. We wouldn’t speak again until I had something new to report, our communication taking place completely via anonymous accounts on social media unless I requested to meet in person.

From that point on, I would be almost entirely on my own.