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“Only once. With a Klimt. It was my mother’s favorite piece, and when I found it, keeping it felt like having a piece of her with me.”
“I would have done the exact same thing.”
“I still paid a lot more than the original valuation plan, and I donated the entire sum,” I clarify.
“That’s exceptionally nice of you.”
“Well… contrary to what your giant buddy Knox thinks, I am not a complete asshole,” I say, labeling a marble pedestal. “Well… not a hundred percent one, anyway.”
“You have made his life an absolute living hell over the past few weeks.”
“Is that why he changed security shifts with you? Is he running away?” I gasp dramatically. “Did he finally quit the contract? Did I win?”
“Don’t smile too much, Cillian. He didn’t quit; he was needed for a raid.”
“A raid…? How Rambo of you guys.”
“Exactly like Rambo, mate. Though we tend to use significantly fewer bullets.”
“And what is your specialty in this little league of extraordinary gentlemen? Tea maker?”
“Sniper.”
“Fancy. Army?”
“Hunter. My grandfather taught me how to hunt our food, and my grandma taught me how to cook it.”
“Why does Knox hate people with money?” I ask, the words slipping out before I can stop them.
Oops… way to fuck it up, Cil.
I turn to face Alistair, who is now leaning against a wooden crate, looking at me.
“Ask him.”
“Sure. Because he is sooooo talkative and open.”
“Sorry, Cillian, but this isn’t my story to tell.”
“Fine. Then I’ll pay someone to dig up information on his past.”
Alistair bursts out laughing. “Good luck finding anyone with the balls to run a background check on any member of Harknett.”
I glare at him, but deep down I know he is right.
And how do I know?
Because I have already secretly reached out to eleven private investigators, four chiefs of police, and six independent intelligence agencies, and they all said no.
Well… more like ‘fuck no.’
“Fine.” I sigh, defeated. “Could you at least tell me anything that is considered public record?”
Alistair scratches his copper-red beard, and I’m two seconds away from thinking he won’t say a thing when he sighs. “…His mother died.”
Oh… so he lost a parent.
Yeah, I know the feeling… In a way, losing a parent leaves you permanently crippled.
