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I needed a damn notebook for this. I thought about the collection of notes Agent Kenneth had. Each time we met we covered a different topic. We had been talking for weeks. I was somehow supposed to put all of that into one conversation. And would it be enough? I didn’t know if Vaughn could answer all the questions I had. I expected them to be like an elixir full of healing serum.
“How do you know I’m not going to tell the bureau everything you tell me now?” It seemed to be the most critical aspect to his safety.
“Because I trust you.” He looked at me with a steady gaze.
I owed him the truth too. “I’ve already talked to them.” I didn’t expect to feel ashamed. I had betrayed our intimate conversations.
“It’s ok. I know. I know Agent Kenneth meets with you every day after work.”
My eyes widened. “How do you know that?”
“I haven’t been that far away.” He smiled sadly.
“You’ve been watching me?”
He nodded. “I wanted to know if you were ok. I wanted to make sure you weren’t hurt, physically,” he added. “I wanted to be next to you. To help you, but it was too risky. Just know I left because I had to. Not because I wanted to.”
“How long? How long have you been shadowing me?”
“You make it sound like I was a damn stalker. I was watching out for you.”
I glared at him. “Answer it.”
“I knew about the New Bern trip. About your brother. And when you came back and they took you into custody. I’ve been around ever since. I turned down two jobs so I could stick around.”
The coffee pot chugged with steam. Vaughn pulled two cups from the cabinet and placed a mug in front of me. He searched the fridge for creamer and set it on the side. I kept my smile hidden. He knew exactly how I liked my coffee.
I stirred it into my coffee. He had been here. When I was hurting the most—he was here.
“Maybe we should start at the beginning instead of going backward,” I decided.
“Whatever you want to do.” He walked around the bar and sat on the barstool next to me. He looked incredibly sexy with the slight stubble on his chin.
“How did you get into this line of work?” I held the hot mug in my hands.
“Good question.” He paused to drink his coffee. “I mentioned I had a previous job. A dangerous one. I was an operative in a Special Forces unit for five years. I made a lot of contacts during my time in the military. When I resigned I was approached by one of those contacts to join a company. Let’s call it Blackwing.”
“And Blackwing, your company, this is what they do? Steal information?”
“I like to think of it as getting the information into the hands of people who can do something important with it. But I don’t get into the politics of it. That’s not what I’m paid for.”
“But you are paid?” I pressed. “I heard millions.”
Vaughn’s hand squeezed the inside of my thigh. I gasped. “You heard right.”
“If you already have millions of dollars, why keep doing it? Do you really need that much money?”
“You can never have too much money.”
“You like having all that money?”
He grinned wickedly. “I don’t think you realize what life is like as a millionaire. There’s nothing I can’t do. Nothing I can’t buy. Nowhere I can’t travel. I have complete control and freedom.”
I had to move on. I couldn’t get bogged down on one question. We could launch into ethical debates on everything I asked.
“Do you care what the information is? Do you choose your subjects?”
He shook his head. “No. I get a drop with the assignment. I do the research. I hand off the file. And they deposit money in my account. It’s pretty simple.”
