“We’ll see about that,” she says, turning around the computer chair toward the desk and firing up the gear at the push of her fingertips.
I watch the screens come to life, each displaying a different setup. Cameras to the left, code through the right. There is a blacked-out screen in the center that I’m all too familiar with.
I let out a low whistle. “You’ve got a type, don’t you, little one?”
Nik’s eyebrows raise at that little truth.
“Who are you?” I ask.
“I’m not telling you shit, lover boy.”
Fair enough. I wouldn’t willingly give over my signature, either. It’s one thing to leave it online for someone to find and know who accessed their information. It’s another thing entirely to share in person.
“So, what are you looking for?” Nikita asks, clicking away.
Keira’s unsure eyes lock on mine. I nod in encouragement, because if she thinks we might learn more about what her father wants, and she trusts this Nikita person, then it’s worth a shot.
“When I was with my father, he told me this story about how my mom found out she was pregnant at school. He also mentioned that my mom wasn’t just someone who got mixed up with the wrong person. That they were from rival families. I don’t know shit about my mom, not really. I’m not even sure if the name I always knew her as was her actual name. Fuck, my last name might not even really be Fitzpatrick. She could have made that shit up.”
“Breathe, sweetness,” I remind her while my hands rub up and down her back. She’s spiraling. I’ve seen it repeatedly over the last couple of months as we’ve worked through what we know. The resurrection of her twin and the miraculous appearance of the father she never knew would be enough for anyone to lose their minds. Add in the kidnapping, rescue, running, and DNA results, it’s a miracle she hasn’t had a complete breakdown.
“Okay, we’ll start simple. What name did you know her by? I can check birth records easily enough. Especially in connection to yours.”
“Claire Fitzpatrick. I think she would have been born here in the city. Probably sometime between 1980 and 1985.”
“Do you know what school they went to?”
“No, he just said it was a Catholic school. One,the families,went to where a truce was held.”
“When you saythe families,what do you mean?” Nikita questions, picking up on the emphasized details Keira’s throwing out but not explaining.
“Uhm, like the families of New York’s underground crime syndicates.”
Nikita’s fingers stop tapping against the keys, and her eyes bug out, swinging in our direction. “Are you fucking kidding me?”
At first, I think she’s about to fly off the handle, and my body tenses in preparation. Instead, her face lights up like it’s Christmas, and she’s just been handed the puppy she’s been begging for all year. I’m not sure that I like or trust her reaction. What if she’s tied up with them, and we just walked into the worst person’s apartment for help? She could have Domenico on speed dial, and his thugs could be here in minutes to try to take Keira from me again. She doesn’t miss the movement, and I mindlessly rest my hand on my gun.
“You going to shoot me in my own home?” Nikita asks without a single ounce of worry in her tone.
Keira glances over and hops up the beanbag to stand beside me. “What are you doing?” she bites between clenched teeth.
“Doesn’t she seem just a little too excited about the information?”
Her lips pull up into a small smile, and she shakes her head like I’ve just said the world’s stupidest thing. “Hey, Nik, want to tell Harkin who you work for, so he’ll calm the fuck down?”
“Come on, baby girl, his face is priceless. Plus, I don’tworkfor them. I occasionally assist when their MIT-chosen Quantico graduates fail at their tasks. I’m a lone wolf.”
“Look, I don’t care who the fuck you do or don’t work for. You want to be the FBI’s bitch, it’s not my business. What I do careabout is the fact that you seem to think it’s a fucking good idea to keep flirting with my girl. The only reason you still have a tongue is out of respect for Keira. But my patience is wearing thin.”
The room is dead silent. Keira’s shifted so close to me, her chest heaves and brushes against mine with every accelerated breath. Her eyes are filled with a fire that I know all too well and if we were alone, I’d bend her over and test my hunch that she’s soaked right now. She’s reading me like an open book because she shifts slightly, rubbing her thighs together, and I quirk a quick smile down at her.
A sharp, slow clap breaks our tangential moment on the other side of the room. “Well, aren’t you, Mr. Big Psycho? Do you usually go around threatening everyone who looks her way?”
Giving her nothing but disinterest in answering that question, the muscles in my face relax. She’s not wrong. If the situation were different, I wouldn’t have hesitated to lay the person out. The funny thing is, Keira would do the same if the roles were reversed, and there wouldn’t have been any stalling her trigger-happy finger.
“This was obviously a mistake on my part. We’re going to go, Nik. Sorry for bringing this shit to your door.” Keira looks between the both of us. Linking her fingers between mine and squeezing tight, she pulls us toward the door.
TWELVE