Page 36 of Consumed By the Mafia

Ryoma nodded. “The yakuza group I was brought up in. The California branch isn’t—or at least wasn’t—too big, I wouldn’t be surprised if you haven’t heard the name.”

She should probably not have felt so excited over the notion that he was finally telling her even that little bit about his history. But she couldn’t deny the swell of stupid giddiness that rushed in behind her understanding of his words. Abigail pushed herself up and kissed him firmly. Her lips parted and their tongues clashed, each seeking entry into the others’ mouths. She moaned. He moaned. He tangled a hand in her hair.

The kiss broke.

Abigail licked her lips, breathless and flustered and knowing she had no one else to blame. She moved a hand to let her fingers trail his jaw. “I don’t want you to jump in front of a train for me, okay?”

He snorted. “If it comes to that, I won’t be asking permission.”

She smiled stupidly and shook her head. “So, you used to live in California?”

Warmth softened his expression and his hands resettled on her hips. “We moved to Hawaii when I was nine, but that didn’t stick and the group settled in California by the timeI was ten. That’s where I lived until I was exiled when I was twenty-five.”

Abigail adjusted her hands to his chest, allowing herself a moment to feel the strength of his heartbeat beneath her palms as his words settled in her mind. She had so many more questions, but she wanted to earn the story the right way, so she offered him a little of her own truth instead. “I’m actually also from California,” she said. “Sounds like this isn’t the first time we’ve shared a state.”

He chuckled, his eyes crinkling at the corners. “I can’t decide if I’m disappointed we didn’t meet back then, or grateful.” He dipped his head and teased the underside of her jaw with his lips. “I probably would’ve dragged you with me when I had to run.”

She swatted at him, pushing from his hold before he could distract them both. “It’s definitely better we didn’t. I was bullheaded about ‘real justice’ ever since I was eleven. We wouldn’t have gotten along.” She couldn’t imagine not being attracted to him, but back in high school she had stubbornly ignored the outside world for the sake of her studies. She would more than likely have used that attraction as fuel for her anger and drive. In retrospect, she probably hadn’t been all that awesome to be around for most of her youth.

Ryoma seemed to think her words were funny. “Maybe not. Can’t say it’d have stopped me.”

Abigail found herself grinning back at him. “So you were always the dangerous one, I see.” She forced herself to take a sobering breath. It was disarmingly easy to get lost in this banter with him, but neither of them could afford that atthe moment. She turned toward the chair, adjusted the things resting on the seat, and lowered herself into it. “We should really get started on this. And I need to figure out a way to explain my disappearance over the past twenty-four hours.”

Ryoma moved to lean against the armrest of the chair that matched hers, facing her. “Easy. You were away enjoying your weekend, getting thoroughly railed by your new lover. Very fortuitous.”

Abigail nearly dropped the phone she was attempting to power on. “Absolutely not! I swear, I’ve never met a man with more of a one-track mind.”

He grinned shamelessly. “I usually have more self-control. You’re a bad influence.”

“I’mthe bad influence here?” She tried to bend her face into a glare, she really did. All she managed to do was choke back her laughter.

“Terrible.” Ryoma shrugged. “But, if you want a different kind of option, find a happy medium. You weren’t home when the accident happened—obviously you learned about it later—but your attention got diverted when you found out someone broke into your apartment, too. Rummaged through your things. Stole your car. Destroyed your laptop.”

Her mouth fell open. “Are you telling me those things happened?”

He nodded. “Sometime last night. Iwasgoing to tell you when I got back, but you were sleeping so peacefully, I figured it could keep ‘til morning.”

Herhand tightened around the phone she still held. “Why? Why did they do that? I agreed to help take out your enemies. If nothing else—”

“Wasn’t us, baby girl.” His expression was serious. “For exactly that reason. But it has to have been someone who at least suspects you.” He paused, his brow pinching, and she knew she wasn’t going to like his next words. “Coughlan has a habit of planting people in groups he wants to take control of, or take down. That’s been our experience. I may be way overthinkin’ this, but you’ve been undercover. Even the cops don’t know your real identity, right?”

Abigail swallowed hard and nodded. She suspected she knew where he was going and she already didn’t like it. She also had no reason to silence him.

“You should at least consider the possibility that someone on the inside is in league with the Irish,” Ryoma said. “Boss was never able to pick off a local fed, or never found one worth the trouble probably. We’ve got other connections we lean on when we have to. But groups like ours do that. Coughlan won’t be an exception.”

Her gaze dropped to the phone as she rolled his words through her head, her heart hammering. The idea of one of her colleagues working on Brendan Coughlan’s payroll should have been so absurd it was insulting. She wanted it to be, but she had to admit she didn’t know most of them. That had been by design. There could easily be a turned agent walking those halls and she wouldn’t know. That was the problem. There were too many unknowns. It wasn’t fair of her to condemn anyone at this stage, either—not without furtherinformation.

Abigail dragged in a breath. No, the real issue was, if Ryoma’s theory was true, that person knew more than they were supposed to. Her true identity and her location were not readily available details. No simple Google search would have offered up those answers. Someone had to have hacked into a file without permission … or it was one of two people.

No.There was just no way Special Agent in Charge Julian Albert was a bad guy. She would die of shock if he ever did anything worse than jaywalk. He still saiddrat, for crying out loud.

Assistant Special Agent in Charge, Paige Mercer, on the other hand, was a harder woman. Harder to speak to, harder to get along with, harder to get a read on. Would that make her a more likely suspect, or a poor choice of one? Abigail couldn’t decide. She would have to pay more attention to their future conversations.

“Abby?”

Abigail exhaled and met Ryoma’s gaze again. “I haven’t done a lot of socializing within the bureau since I got here,” she admitted, “but I do see the point you’re making. And if my apartment was ransacked, an insider makes the most sense.” Her brow pinched. “The mobsters who crashed into us yesterday outside my complex, we assumed Silva had procured my address, didn’t we?”

Ryoma’s brow furrowed almost in imitation. “Yeah.”

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