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“Both.” I felt him smile where his face was resting against my shoulder. “You know, you’re the only one that doesn’t use me for something.”
Sadly, I knew that was true. The poor kid had gotten pulled into the syndicate young. His parents had died in a house fire when he was twelve, and he’d run out of an abusive foster situation straight into the arms of the cartel on the streets of Detroit. They got him hooked on drugs, completely dependent on them, and he would probably be a lifer until he overdosed or got himself killed.
“I wish you’d let me help you,” I said, my voice already slurring from the pain killer. I’d forgotten that I’d just puked up any semblance of food that had been in my system so there was nothing left to combat or slow the drug from racing into my bloodstream. “Let me get you out.”
“This is my home,” Kenny whispered. “Now, stop talking before you say something to me that you shouldn’t.”
His warning triggered something in my head, but I was too sleepy and foggy to figure out what it was. He was right, though. I did need to stop talking. It would be pretty fucking stupid to reveal who I truly was to someone that was so completely entrenched in the cartel.
I couldn’t trust my life to anyone.
Remember who your real family is. That’s what Griffin had said to me. And he was right, too. Speedball wasn’t really my family. No one in the cartel was. The law was my family. I needed to keep going so I could make sure that my real family won.
“Get some sleep, Matt,” Kenny whispered. “I’ll protect you.”
“Why?” I whispered as sleep tugged hard at my mind.
“Because you’re my best friend,” he answered softly.
“You’re my best friend, too.”
“I know.” Kenny pressed a gentle kiss to my temple. “Sleep.”
So I did, knowing that Kenny really would protect me. Because he might actually be the only real friend I had.
Chapter Two
~Griffin~
I closed Matt’s file with a heavy sigh. This was getting dangerous. Not just his role in the cartel, but the attachment he was forming with me. It was necessary that I be the only one to have contact with him, but I could tell he was growing too dependent on me.
And I was far too dependent on him as well.
I knew I had it better here in my ivory tower, with actual law enforcement contact, able to move more freely than he was out on the streets. But that didn’t make my own hell any easier to deal with than Matt’s.
So many times over the past few years I’d wanted to bring him in. To show him that he wasn’t out on the front lines alone. But it wasn’t my place to risk the operation.
My phone rang and I glanced at the screen, biting back a groan before answering.
“James,” I barked into the receiver.
“Did your asset check in?” Director Barnes asked.
“He did,” I confirmed. “The coronation went well. He took the brand and he’s been crowned Knight.”
“Good,” Barnes said. “How’s his mental state?”
“He just had hot iron pressed into his skin,” I reminded my boss. “How the fuck do you think his mental state is?”
“We can’t afford for him to crack—”
“Matthew Lynch is not going to crack,” I promised him, my tone a little sharper than I’d intended. “He’s the best asset we have in the field and he’ll stay until the job is done.”
Or until the cartel killed him.
“Okay,” Barnes said. “When are you going to let him in?”
“Not yet,” I said firmly.
