Cuckoo (Kindred Book 3) (8 page)

Folding her arms, she tried her best to ignore the glean of sweat on his chest. “Who do you think? Cuckoo!”

A faint glimmer of a smile came and went from his expression. “You like that name. Art did too.”

She’d spent two minutes in the woman’s company and already Zara knew it was accurate. “He was a smart man,” she said. “When did you tell her who you were?”

“I didn’t,” he said, bending to pick up his sports bottle from the floor to squeeze some water into his mouth. “Never while we were together.”

Which implied to her they’d seen each other since they split up or something had changed since then. Irked at herself for not delving deeper into Brodie’s romantic history with the woman who was now a part of their world, Zara was frustrated. Except a million questions would lead to a million more and it wasn’t like she didn’t have a past of her own, so she couldn’t go passing judgement or snooping into ancient history.

“Is it your plan to go back to Rigor’s?”

“Yeah, tonight. Figured I’d wait around for you and take care of a few things while I was in the neighborhood. ‘Cept now you’re here—”

“Take care of things? What things? Setting up your ex in my apartment?” Zara didn’t want to dredge up the past, but she didn’t mind addressing the present. “Why would you put her in our private space?”

Displaying no indication of shame or apology, Brodie’s arrogance came so easy to him, it was like it was engrained in his DNA. “We’ve already got eyes on that place,” he said in his usual blank tone. “The cameras are setup. We’re comfortable with the layout. There are a bunch of reasons it makes sense. If you’ve got a problem with it…”

She had any number of problems with the idea of a viper taking up residence in her nest. But Zara had learned to pick her battles and didn’t have the emotional fuel to waste on this one. The truth was, Cuckoo’s charming personality and irritating declarations would have to get in line because there was actual business to deal with. Game Time and Future’s Hope were more important than Zara being intimidated by the Italian’s glowing complexion and presumptive behavior.

This wasn’t the time to get bogged down by relationship politics. Telling Brodie about her meeting with Kahlil would have to come before anything else. Mischa was gorgeous and might make many women feel lacking in comparison. But Brodie didn’t want to be with his ex and that was the pertinent fact. She was secure in their love and would needle him about his reticence later.

That being the case, if she was given the opportunity to ruffle Mischa’s feathers again, she would take advantage. Keeping that woman in her place was fun, though Zara hadn’t realized just how much fun it was until the adrenaline of their initial encounter had worn off.

Brodie drank some more water. “I guess if you’re home this early, you two didn’t get along.”

She couldn’t imagine he’d believe any other reality, and his own view of the Italian was obviously a pessimistic one. He hadn’t invited Mischa to the manor, which suggested he was contending with his trust issues and was happy to keep the harlot at arm’s length. Some might wonder why he’d reached out to a woman he didn’t trust in his home. The way Zara saw it, bringing Mischa into CI was Brodie’s not-so-subtle plan for getting Zara away from the corporation. Brodie’s transparent motivation didn’t need any discussion, that she could so easily read him was a positive. It wasn’t like she could argue that he didn’t care when he was showing how much he wanted to have her with him by sabotaging every alternative.

Bringing his leg over the bench, he got to his feet and she went over to rest her forearms on his torso. He might be sweaty, but he was also shirtless, and she liked being close to him when there was an excuse for skin-on-skin contact.

Patting his chest, she enjoyed his strength and hoped it would endure when she revealed the real news that had come from her morning at CI. “I don’t care about that. I don’t want to talk about Cuckoo now,” she said, because she would get over it. Cuckoo wasn’t an imminent threat. As uncomfortable as Zara was with the idea of another woman in her apartment, Brodie was right that it made sense to put her there being that it was under Kindred observation and control. And situations with possible lethal consequences took precedence over petulant ones. “We have business.”

“Us or the Kindred?” he asked, resting both hands at the back of her neck.

“Both,” she said. Once she told him about her morning, he probably wouldn’t be heading to Rigor’s. All of their plans were about to change. “You shower and—”

“Talk,” he said. For a guy who liked keeping secrets, he was careful about making sure no one else got to keep them.

With him standing here sweaty and distracted, it didn’t seem right to have such a sensitive conversation. But the subject wouldn’t get any easier to broach no matter how long she delayed talking about it or how clean he was.

His face rested in concern, which wasn’t a great starting point because her guess was that his worry would increase when he found out what Kahlil had tried to tempt them with. “This morning, I went to tell Julian about Mischa. It turned out he already knew about her, but he told me that someone had called looking for me.”

Immediately, his body grew rigid and Raven eclipsed Brodie. “Who?”

“He didn’t know, but when I went upstairs…” She took a breath because she knew he would take this news hard. “It was Kahlil. He wants Game Time.”

Brodie’s hands shifted to tighten over her shoulders, he said nothing for about ten seconds, then his grip loosened to slide his hands to the back of her neck again. “You told him where to get off?”

Taking her watch from her wrist, she held it up. “I recorded the meeting and I think you should listen to what he had to say.”

“I don’t need to. I trust that you gave it to him straight,” he said, pulling her forward to kiss her hairline. “I’ll shower and we can get back to Swift.”

“Beau, I…”

He let her go to head for the locker room in the corner beyond this room. If all Kahlil had wanted was Game Time, then she would have shut him down. But she couldn’t let this go by without giving Brodie the chance to see what else was at stake. This wasn’t about money or about dealing with a lowlife like Kahlil.

Brodie’s reaction was the one she’d expected. Except Kahlil’s request for Game Time wasn’t the whole story. She couldn’t conceal the truth because she’d never be able to live with herself if it came out later that they’d had this chance and she’d made a unilateral decision to snub it. Brodie deserved to know that the truth was on the table. It wasn’t her choice to refuse. Only Brodie could make this decision, and the rest of them would fall in line for him.

Before the window of opportunity closed, she blurted out two words. “Future’s Hope,” she said before he took the final step to the locker room.

He stopped. Shouting it out was insensitive, but the urge to say something had clouded wisdom and the words had rushed out on their own. Locking her fingers together, she wouldn’t let herself fidget as he turned to set his gaze on her.

“You’re good,” he said, but there was nothing happy about his statement. “Art’s gone. Grant’s eating worms… and you’re still digging up shit from my past.”

If Brodie hadn’t given Mischa his real name then he wouldn’t have shared details about the demise of his parents with her. Zara’s knowledge could only have come from the one other person she’d met with that morning. The ire radiating from him suggested that he’d deduced that much. Brodie didn’t like to talk about sensitive topics from his past. The idea that an enemy of theirs could be airing his dirty secrets didn’t embarrass Brodie as much as it pissed him off.

“Kahlil offered more than money,” she said. As her pulse began to speed, she fought the urge to go nearer and console him. With his mood the way it was, he wouldn’t appreciate pandering. Any suggestion that he might be fragile or need support would fuel his anger. Instead of catering to his emotional needs, she appealed to his professional ones by holding up the watch. “He says he knows the truth about what happened to your parents.”

His sneer didn’t hint at interest or hope. “And you believed that?” he asked, becoming snide. “Maybe you should be a blonde.”

Mischa had said that to her. The two of them saying such a thing about her on the same day was no coincidence. “Enjoy discussing me with your ex, did you? Did you have a little chat while you helped her settle into my apartment? The same place you screwed me senseless last night?”

“Yeah,” he said. “She wanted to know what was so special about you that you got to stay at my place.”

“Did she?” Zara asked and folded her arms. Mischa had no tact or restraint, Zara had learned that after spending a few seconds with the woman. In the company of a man she was once intimate with, Mischa’s insensitivity would be even less subtle.

“It’s sure not your ability to call a bluff,” he said. “Kahlil dangled that in front of you because he knew you’d bring it to me and try the soft little innocent tiptoeing to cajole me into falling for his bullshit. He doesn’t know dick, and you weren’t smart enough to notice you were being played. Have you learned nothing?”

Given what she’d told him about her feelings of uncertainty with the Kindred, she didn’t appreciate him asking such a question. But she knew him too well to think that he was expecting an answer, though that didn’t moderate the initial kneejerk reaction of her emotions.

“Stop it,” she said, tensing to take careful breaths because only one of them could afford to be irrational at a time. “You’re lashing out at me ‘cause talk of your parents caught you off guard. It’s okay to be upset. It’s okay to be angry about it.”

So much for not dealing with his emotions, it seemed they were too assertive to be ignored. “I’m angry that you let this guy play you,” he said, pointing at her with his sports bottle. “What you’ve seen the Kindred do so far, it’s been Sunday school. It’s going to get harder and dirtier from here. You better up your game if you want to—”

“Want to what?” she asked, and scowled after he cut himself off. “Want to stick around? Want to be worthy of you? Thanks, I need you questioning that right now when you know I’ve been… This isn’t about me.” She wasn’t going to bring up her insecurities when he was in this kind of mood because he might say something they wouldn’t be able to take back. “Kahlil says he knows the truth. Maybe he does, maybe he doesn’t. Do you want to pass up the chance to find out? Shouldn’t you at least talk to him or listen to the recording of what he said to me?”

“I know the truth. They’re dead. End of story. Go upstairs and pack your shit. We’re leaving in twenty minutes.”

When Brodie was done with a conversation, it was over. She wanted to support him, but did that mean respecting his predictable reaction to the news? Or was she supposed to coax him into changing his mind? Kahlil had implied that was what he wanted her to do, but she wasn’t going to make the decision based on his recommendation. She wanted what was best for Brodie.

Hearing the name of the boat and the implication that there had been foul play had shocked
her
, and Kahlil wasn’t even talking about her parents. Brodie would need time to process this. While he did, she could foresee herself taking the brunt of his emotional journey until he came to a conclusion about what he wanted to do. She wasn’t finished talking about Future’s Hope, she’d just have to bide her time.

As much as she didn’t want to go to Rigor’s with Brodie, Zara went upstairs and did as she was told. All they could do there was sit on their asses speculating about Leatt. There was little else to do about it now that the trail had gone cold.

Given what she’d just told Brodie about Kahlil and his parents’ demise, he was angry, and taking that to Rigor would culminate in the two men fighting. With Kahlil, Leatt, and Cuckoo featuring in their circle now, they didn’t need any more enemies. Explaining that to Brodie wouldn’t alter the inevitable. Reasoning with him was never easy.

Kahlil was supposed to have gone away, back into his hole, after failing to secure Game Time during the first round of bidding. If he was flickering on their radar again, that could indicate other bidders wouldn’t be far behind. Sikorski could know the same as he did and he might make his own play for Game Time. On top of that, either group could be in league with Leatt.

With Sutcliffe and Grant gone, there could be a feeding frenzy. Kahlil was right that no one else at CI knew about the device. Both he and Sikorski had put eyes on her. Sikorski was the other failed bidder she’d met at the Grand. Art had said he was a crazy person associated with the Russian Bratva, which was just the kind of guy she needed on her tail.

After packing her suitcase, she put it near the foot-board and rounded to sit on the bed, cross-legged, right in the middle. Going to Rigor’s was nothing but disadvantages because she’d miss their spacious bed here, and with Cuckoo taking up residence in Zara’s abode, all she had to look forward to were the cramped conditions at Rigor’s.

Brodie hadn’t come upstairs, but she’d packed quickly. In the gym shower, he’d have peace and quiet and might take the chance to reconsider or at least think through what Kahlil was offering, so she wouldn’t rush him. Using the time she had to herself, she reflected on her day. CI was her past, Brodie had made sure of that, and by giving Cuckoo her apartment, Brodie was making sure Zara had to stay here with him, and he’d been pushing for that for a while.