I wrap my arms around her, grateful for the comforting touch. “Just heading back to my place for a shower,” I fib.
“At this point, you should probably just move in here,” she says, as we step into the elevator, “You’ve slept here almost every night this weekend. I take it things are going well with the newest of the Nine?”
“Very well,” I allow, leaning back against the elevator wall.
“You don’t seem entirely thrilled about that,” Kassie observes, raising a perfectly shaped eyebrow. “Is everything alright between you and Brooks?”
“Everything is amazing with him,” I sigh. “I just...my history is a little...complicated.”
“I know how that goes,” she says, a swell of sadness darkening her eyes. “If it makes you feel any better, we’re all a little bit fucked up around here. Brooks included.”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“You’ll have to ask him that question,” she replies. “I don’t want to get in the middle of you two. But there’s more to him than you might expect.”
“No...I could have guessed that,” I say. “Maybe that’s why we understand each other.”
“If you ever want to talk to someone,” Kassie says, brushing my shoulder, “you know that I’m here, right?”
“I do,” I smile sadly. I wish I could be as good a friend to her as she’s trying to be to me. “Thanks, Kassie.”
“Don’t mention it,” she says, as we step into the lobby, “That’s what friends are for.”
Kassie heads off to the gym as I slide into my Mustang, which I’ve finally started driving around between here and the clubhouse. To my delight, my ride has impressed some of the MC brothers, even if it is technically a “cage”, as they would say.
My mind wheels wildly as I start the car and take off toward the field office. What could Kassie know about Brooks that I don’t? What secrets darken his past and present? I certainly don’t hold it against him, his not telling me. Our relationship resides strictly in the present, after all. Still, I can’t help but be curious.
“All in time, if ever,” I mutter to myself, guiding my Mustang through the Las Vegas streets. I set the thought aside and wrangle my focus back to the task at hand—figuring out how to make things right with Bruno for the duration of this case. Something tells me that my fellow agent is not going to make that easy for me.
Chapter Fourteen
I pause outside the conference room door, steeling myself against Bruno’s inevitable wrath. It’s time to face the music, at last. I can hear Mitchell and Bruno speaking in hushed, excited voices behind the door. Taking a deep breath, I turn the handle and step into the room to join them.
“Hey, Collins,” Mitchell says merrily, “Good to have you here in the flesh again.”
“Thanks Mitchell,” I reply, my eyes fixed on the back of Bruno’s head. He’s turned away from me, surveying the wall of intelligence. He doesn’t turn to welcome me, but he doesn’t jump down my throat, either. I haven’t mentioned to Mitchell yet that I’ve swung by the Devil’s Playpen. But has Bruno said anything about our encounter there?
“Anything to report from the front lines?” Mitchell asks, sitting on the edge of the conference table. “How’s your lover boy doing?”
“Everything’s pretty much the same,” I say carefully. “Nothing new to report.”
“So it goes,” Mitchell shrugs, turning back to the arrayed information. He says nothing about my stepping on Bruno’s toes at the Playpen. Surely that means Bruno’s kept the incident to himself. Of course, I would rather Mitchell not know about my transgression, but I’d imagine that Bruno would want to rat me out as soon as possible. What the hell gives?
“If you don’t have any new intel at the moment, you should feel free to work from home,” Mitchell says over his shoulder. “I take your word that nothing’s turned up in the CrowdedNest data, but there’s no harm in going over it again. Things may be heating up on Bruno’s side of the case, so I’d like to concentrate on that as much as possible. Sorry to say, but we may have sent you on a wild goose chase with the old ladies.”
“Well, maybe I can help out with the other areas of the investigation,” I venture.
“That won’t be necessary,” Bruno says, addressing me at last. He turns to look at me, his face eerily composed. “I’d prefer to work my angle alone, Collins.”
“I see...” I say slowly, trying to get a read on his mood. The fury I saw in him that night at the Devil’s Playpen is nowhere to be seen now. Maybe he didn’t actually recognize me that night, after all?
“You really should get back to work sifting through the CrowdedNest intel,” Bruno goes on, crossing the room to me. Though his body looks relaxed, his calm demeanor intimidates me all the same. It’s too controlled, and far too uncharacteristic, to be sincere. “I’d rather use the office to work alone.”
“I’m sure Agent Collins won’t mind leaving us to it,” Mitchell says amiably, “Will you, Collins?”
“Not at all, if you’re sure you don’t need me here,” I say, taken aback.
“We’ve got it under control,” Bruno smiles, “In fact, we may be able to send you back to San Bernardino even sooner than we anticipated.”
I cock an eyebrow at the bullish man. Whatever lead he’s turned up at the Playpen must be pretty solid if he’s this comfortable calling the shots all of a sudden. Has he found something serious on the guys? Panic begins to build in my core at the thought of what he might have on the Wraiths. Unaccountably, I find myself wishing that he’d come up empty in his investigation.
“Whatever you guys think is best,” I say slowly.
“Thanks for understanding, Collins,” Mitchell says, “Hang tight and wait to hear from us about what we need from you going forward. Your involvement with Operation Inferno may be coming to an end, but I hope you don’t feel that your time has been wasted.”
I stare at Mitchell. Is he really just going to let me go?
“Not at all,” I reply, turning to go, “just keep me posted as things develop.”
“Let me walk you out,” Bruno says, following me out the door. His cheerful tone is entirely off-putting. I don’t feel good about this turn of events. Not a bit.