Kiss

It took a few seconds for Mason to explain the situation to his best friend, skipping over parts that weren’t relevant. If he considered himself good at hacking into some security systems and covering his tracks, Riggs was a master at it. Riggs was at the genius level of hacking, and almost no one knew about his special ability, not his parents, not his superiors, not even his crew. There were only two people who knew his true skills: Mason and Riggs’ teacher from high school, who caught him reading classified reports about weapons manufacturing.

The tapping on the keyboard made Mason’s mind wander to what his life could have been if, instead of leaving the army, he had followed along with Riggs up the hierarchy ladder. But that was one thing he could never stomach about the army: the strict and most of the time stupid hierarchy. He considered Riggs a better commander than the one they had and some others, but because he lacked the experience and the years, he was just a soldier like me. But everyone knew that it was thanks to Riggs's instructions as the team leader that most missions were accomplished without casualties, even if no one dared to say it out loud.

Instead, Mason left the army and went to the Boss of the Blackwood family, with new and useful skills and connections, wanting to repay his kindness for taking him in. But the Boss never allowed him in the family, and he wasn’t even allowed to pledge his loyalty to the family. 

He was okay with that decision. Mostly.

After a long silence broken only by the soft taps, Briggs came up empty. "There's nothing about Sarah Brooks that seems off. I mean she had a big debt, no parents left, no known family, had more than one job and jumped around a lot, but nothing sketchy." Mason leaned over, massaging his temples and sighed. "I can check if there is anything else, but it's unlikely I’m going to find anything useful."

"Can you check someone else?” asked Mason. He never told Riggs his real job, only that he worked as a freelancer for odd jobs like spying on companies or people, and gathering information. He never mentioned he worked as an assassin, not because he was afraid Riggs would betray him and arrest him, but rather because somehow he felt like he was betraying him.

“Women don’t like stalkers,” said Briggs. “I told you this plenty of times. If you want her attention, just talk to her.” Mason rolled his eyes and scoffed. “I bet if you ask her for a very specific and odd ice cream flavour, she will be more than happy to make it for you.”

“Can you just not? I don’t want to hear it,” Mason huffed. In a judgement lapse, when Mason invited Briggs over to his newly bought apartment, he had taken him to the shop where Bella worked. After exchanging a couple of words, where Mason made absolutely sure to keep his expression as plain as a piece of paper, Briggs figured out he fancied Bella.

“You are great at reading people and fixing whatever comes your way. But how come you are so dense when it comes to love?” He rolled the word love on his tongue because he knew it would annoy Mason.

“I’m not dense. You are just reading too much into it. She is friendly to everyone,” Mason said in defence.

“Sure. Sure. Whatever you tell yourself to sleep.”

“You stopped typing; did you find anything?” Mason asked, ignoring Briggs' amused chuckle.

“Not yet. The program is running, but it will take some time to go through the face recognition database since I can’t process it as fast as I want; otherwise, it may get flagged, so you have time to explain why you are so interested in our Jane Doe and Sarah.”

He couldn’t tell him he had killed one and was accused of letting her live by being shown a lookalike he couldn’t trace anywhere.

"Just covering bases–”

"Meih,” Mason heard the soft voice calling him from the room, but before he had time to tell Nico to be quiet, he called out again. “Meih?" Nico said loudly two more times before finding him on the sofa. He strutted into the living room fully awake, as if another wave of sugar hit his bloodstream.

Mason put a finger in front of his lips when Nico approached him, hoping he would understand what it meant, before he turned to his phone. “Call me when you–"

"Wait, wait, wait. Why am I hearing a kid's voice next to you?”

Mason swore between his teeth as an excuse worked its way to his tongue “It’s the neighbours–”

“Don’t even try to lie. I heard him clearly next to you, and if there is something I know is that you are not the type of person who would look after other people’s kids. Spill it.”

Mason sighed. “It’s nothing, don’t worry about it.”

“You have a kid with you, and it’s nothing?" Riggs’ voice got increasingly higher. "When did this happen?"

"It's complicated," Mason promised not to tell a soul about Nico, and that included Riggs.

"Oh no, don't give me that," said Riggs, chuckling. There was almost nothing that made him angry. Before Mason could come up with an excuse, Riggs continued, knowing full well Mason’s tactics. "Don't even try saying you are busy. Housewives multitask all the time."

Mason sighed, almost regretting calling Briggs. "I can't. Really. This kid is– Anyway, keep asking, and I will kiss you.”

After a pause, Riggs clicked his tongue. “Fine, have it your way.”

Riggs disconnected the call shortly after, and Mason was glad he still remembered their secret word. ‘Kiss’ meant something confidential or secret, and depending on what else they said, it would give more information about who and what shouldn’t be known.

The problem was they both knew damn well that the other hated not knowing what was going on, and some way or another, they would find out about it, so it was only a matter of time until Riggs came storming his place with the information Mason had restrained himself from looking into: who was Nico.