Bax took up more of the atmosphere than should strictly be considered his. He was too loud, too energetic, too active.
And yet the kid had stones, I admitted begrudgingly as I paced the dusty floor. For a non-field agent, I was impressed by his commitment to action when he took it, though not by his inability to follow orders. If he gave up his ridiculous heroic notions he might one day be able to do some good in the world. But to get there, he would first need to look beneath the social lie, the simplistic notions of childhood, the idea that law and order were anywhere near justice.
He was young. He would learn.
Although, I allowed as I changed the number plates on the car, I was older andIstill hadn’t learned. I was acting like a fool over Baxter Flynn, letting dimples and a luscious mouth distract me from more important things.
Or was it simplybecauseI was getting older—starting to feel it was time to step aside? My usefulness to the Morelli Family was coming to an end because I had worked to make that so. Once Luca D’Amato had complete control of the Family, of New York, what would be left formeto do? Times had changed. For the better, certainly. But there was only so far that I could change with them. I had too much baggage.
I was too young to retire, but I was beginning to feel too old to continue on in the work I’d chosen. Or perhaps I just needed a change. Luca had done me a great honor when he made me Underboss, and as usual, I was happy to serve the needs of the Family in any way the Boss saw fit.
If I’d had my own choice, though—
My reverie was interrupted by an incoming text. I read it with interest.
It was time to get back to work.
* * *
When I unlockedthe underground apartment again and went down, Bax was nowhere to be found. I stood stock-still, wary, and scoped the room.
There were noises coming from the bathroom. A soft shuffling sound, rhythmic and steady. I had visions of flinging open the door and finding Bax strung up by his neck with the shower curtain, overcome with claustrophobia, and I dashed across the room.
I’d already gripped the handle, and was about to break the door down if I had to, when I heard what was, unmistakably, a moan.
“Flynn?” I called. “You alright?”
There was a flurry of activity and I heard whispered cursing before a suspicious silence. “I’m fine,” he called back, voice too cheerful. “So, uh. You’re back?”
“I have more information from my black hat.”
“Oh, that’s great!” he shouted, and then I heard a zipper going up. “I’ll be out in just a sec, ’kay?”
“Take your time,” I said. “Don’t rush on my account.”
I went back over to the small table and tried my best not to listen to whatever was going on in that tiny bathroom. Because unless I was very much mistaken, Baxter Flynn had been jerking off in there. Somehow it had alleviated all the bad feelings I’d had earlier that day. It was too human for me to stay annoyed.
Too cute.
It must be difficult, naturally, for him to go too long without taking care of that need. I could hardly begrudge him a private orgasm. I just wished my mind wouldn’t wander so much. Think about what he might have looked like.
Think about whathe’dbeen thinking about.
He came out a few minutes later after ostentatiously flushing the toilet and washing his hands, but he looked furtive, nervous, and most of all, frustrated.
And I’d found during my career that it could be challenging to get frustrated people under control.
“Sit down and listen,” was all I said, and I said it without looking at him. If I looked at him I feared I’d think about what he might look like in the middle of his pleasure. “First of all, here’s what they have on me. A minute amount of DNA from blood found near the scene of the murder.” I touched my cheek, remembering the splinters kicked up by a close bullet.
Baxter was smirking. “You left your DNA behind? Thought you were smoother than that.”
It wasn’t the first time my DNA had been found at a crime scene, and it wouldn’t be the last. But it was still only circumstantial evidence, and I told Bax as much. “Now, to what they have on you: your gun.”
“Oh, shit.”
“You dropped it, as I recall?”
He shot me a dirty look. “No,youyanked my arm as I was—”
