Page 39 of The Company We Keep

“It’s possible that I’m wrong about you,” Carrow said. “But I think I want to add you to that list of people.”

Dust swallowed hard.

“I don’t think you’re wrong.”

Carrow didn’t smile, didn’t nod. His look was inscrutable. He stepped away from the rail and bent to stub out his cigar before pocketing the butt. Then, before Dust had a moment to react, to walk away or to ask a question, Carrow’s hands were on him, holding him gently by either side of his head, pulling him into a kiss.

Dust was shocked. He didn’t fight it. It was what he’d wanted to do since the moment he met the man, and he went soft and pliant under him, tilting his chin up to acceptCarrow, riding the thrill as their lips parted, his heart beating hard.

The kiss was over as fast as it had started. Carrow stepped back, still inscrutable, totally unapologetic.

“If I die tonight, I don’t want my last regret to be having never done that — if only once.”

Dust was breathless. He didn’t know what to say.

Carrow turned without warning, heading back down into the penthouse.

“We have a problem.”

Leta’s voice was steady as she delivered the news through her comms unit.

Dust, squatting next to Herron on the promenade flanking one of the gardens on the museum property, craned his neck to see Carrow’s reaction. Standing up against the west wall, the man didn’t flinch.

“You and Wayles get out and meet us in the gardens,” Carrow said. “Let’s regroup. Vashvi, hold position.”

They all buzzed in their agreement. Herron nodded at Dust and they both crossed in the shadows to join Carrow. After a few moments, Wayles and Leta were striding up.

“What’s up?” Carrow asked.

“Kids,” Leta said, sounding particularly disappointed. “There’s a bunch ofkidsinside the museum.”

“Someone beat us to this?” Carrow asked, his face contorting in the shadows.

“No. They’re students,” she explained. “They’re setting something up in one of the back halls, and from the sound of it they’rewaypast deadline.”

“How the hell…?”

“Dunno,” Wayles said, sounding stressed. “They must’vejustcome in because they weren’t there when I was in the van, disabling the security.”

“They weren’t there when I was setting charges,” Dust added.

“Not your fault,” Carrow said, letting a reassuring hand fall on Wayles’ shoulder. “Can we wait them out?”

“They’re breaking out goddamn coffee,” Wayles whined. “They’re settled in until sunrise, looks like.”

“So send me in and I’llfix this,” Herron said, their words sharp. The implication was unmistakable: Herron fixing the situation would mean it ended in mayhem — at least for the students.

“No civilian casualties,” Carrow said quickly. “The client was specific.”

“Well theclientdidn’t tell you that there would be civilians inside the target, did they?” Herron said. “Not our fault if some unaccounted for collateral damage happens because we weren’t kept in the loop about what to expect.”

“I got this,” Dust said, stripping out of his black jacket until he was down to his white tank top underneath it. “Wayles, c’mon.”

He tied the jacket around his waist as he walked, not waiting for the go-ahead from Carrow. Wayles trotted up at his heels.

“Roll up your pants legs,” Dust instructed. “Do whatever you can think of to look less… y’know, like a criminal element.”

Wayles snorted and mussed his hair.

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