12 East
The moment I returned to London, I knew the lads would want a status report. I just didn't expect to have to give that status report at six in the morning. And I didn't really have any answers.
I was only marginally surprised, but all the way pissed off, when at six o’clock the next morning, I woke to pounding on my fucking front door. The pounding forced me out of bed. I didn't have a housekeeper. I had a cleaning service that came every other day. I liked to cook, so I didn't have a chef. So unfortunately, I had to answer the door my goddamn self as well.
I didn't bother throwing on a shirt. I was irritated and tired. We'd taken the plane back from Monaco in the wee hours of the morning at Nyla’s request. I'd crashed after arriving and making sure Nyla was settled and okay.
When I dragged the door open, I scowled. "The fucking office had better be on fire, mate."
Bridge leaned against my door and grinned. "What? You're not ready for a run?"
I glowered at him. He was wearing running gear, and my frown deepened. "What the fuck are you on about?"
He crossed his arms. "Mate, we’ve had this date every Monday morning for years. Get your kit on."
I scowled. "Not happening. Get out."
He laughed. "Uh-huh. No. And don't forget, I knocked as a courtesy. I have a fucking key."
I scowled at him. Maybe if I just went back to bed he would go away. It was worth a shot. So I left him standing in the doorway and headed back to the bedroom, about to climb back into bed. But then he grabbed my arm and shoved me toward my closet. "Kit, now."
"Fuck you."
"Anytime. Come on. You look like shit. That's the best time to run. That's when you need it."
"I hate you. If I put on my fucking running clothes, will you go away?"
"No. Also," he plopped onto one of the chairs I had in the corner, "I want to hear all about your getaway to Monaco. Just how close did you and Miss Kincade get on this trip?"
"Agent," I muttered under my breath.
He grinned. "That’s right, Agent Kincade. It's funny you mentioned she's an agent, because who does she work for again?"
I rolled my eyes as I grabbed a pair of running shorts. I found an old ragged T-shirt and a clean pair of boxers, and then I shuffled into the bathroom. A change of clothes, a quick brush of my teeth, and a little ice-cold water scrubbed down my face, and I felt marginally better. When I came out, he grinned. "Still waiting to hear about Agent Kincade."
"Fuck you."
"I love when you tell me I'm right."
"I said no such thing."
I pulled on my socks and grabbed my trainers. "Are you fucking ready?"
"Jesus Christ, someone is a bit touchy, aren't you?"
"I'm not sure I like you."
"You've been saying that for years," he said with a chuckle.
"No, honestly," I said. "I'm pretty sure I'm going to get a new best mate."
Bridge shrugged. "Well, there is a replacement model downstairs waiting for us. I was the one lucky enough to be sent to come get you. Are you going to replace him too?"
I nodded mutinously. "Yeah, I think I will."
Bridge just shrugged. "Yeah, but who else would have you?"
As soon as my shoes were on, Bridge shoved me out into the kitchen, grabbed three Granola bars and a bottle of water, and he was out the door. I could only manage short grunts as he spoke, asking me many Nyla questions, which I ignored or diverted.
But once downstairs, I found a smiling, bed-tousled Ben. "Oh, he did manage to get you out of bed. Excellent, let's go."
I scowled at him. "I hate you."
Ben nodded. "I feel like you hate me every other week. Honestly, I'm not fussed."
"Christ. Where the fuck is Drew? Why isn’t he the one being tortured?"
Ben shrugged. "Poor Alice is teething. Apparently, he hasn't been sleeping at all. So it's just us this morning."
Bridge practically frog-marched me out the giant glass rotating door. For once I was pleased with London's dreary weather, which meant no bright piercing sunlight to set my headache off. "Let’s just get this over with."
Ben smiled. "Oh, not so fast. Before we start running, spill your guts about Nyla Kincade."
I bit into my granola bar. "I don’t know anything more than I told you the other day. She's on a forgery case. I took her to see AJ, figuring she could help. That’s all. But now I’m digging. Because I think she has other reasons she’s not objecting to my help. She will stop at nothing when she’s got a scent.”
Ben and Bridge exchanged glances. "Uh-huh." Ben said. "Do we go back to her father?"
I shook my head. “No. I’m going to observe. See if she drops any clues as to what else she’s investigating.”
Bridge started to slow jog and I groaned. My legs felt like lead. The last thing I wanted to do was run.
Perhaps you shouldn't have had so many Irish coffees on the flight back.
That was the problem with being shoved in a sardine can with Agent Kincade. I wanted her. But I was also worried. Worried about what she was looking into and about just how much she’d heard from that bug she’d planted on me before I disabled it.
I was worried about what kind of trouble she was in, if her case was dangerous, and what that meant for her. I wasn’t sure why there was some primal part of me that wanted to take care of her. Protect her. It was also the same part that wanted to club her over the head and drag her off to a very large bed. But I wasn't telling my idiot mates about that. "I’ll keep an eye on her." I rushed to add. “From a distance of course.”
Ben frowned. "Actually, it would be in our best interest if
