Full Domain (Nice Guys 3)

“Take us both to the Drake.” Aaron involuntarily shivered as he pulled his iPhone out of his pocket and dialed his father’s assistant.

“Hey, Aaron,” she answered. He couldn’t remember her name but did remember she was younger than him by almost six years. His father liked them young.

“Hey, listen. I’m stuck in Atlanta overnight. I need you to get me a couple of rooms at the Drake.”

“Okay, no problem,” she said. He could hear her typing on the other end of the line.

“They’re filling up fast. Let me make a call,” she said professionally. At least this one seemed to have some communication and secretarial skills. That was more than most who’d filled this position over the years.

“I can’t afford the Drake,” the guy next to him said.

“It’s on me.” Aaron left off the part about it being a family-owned property. That kind of thing usually made people look at him differently and ended up costing him more money in the long run. The guy started to argue, but Aaron held up his hand to silence the protest when his father’s assistant returned to the line to give him the details.

“You’ve got two rooms. They’re suites. Non-connecting and on two different floors. It’s the best I could do. I hear the weather there’s a beast.”

“You have no idea. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome. I’ll tell your dad you said hello.” Aaron let that one go without a response. He’d never tell his dad hello. Much like his father, they both liked to pretend the other didn’t exist.

“The Drake,” he instructed the taxi driver as he shoved the phone back in his pocket. When he realized he wasn’t being tossed around the backseat like a normal taxi ride, he glanced out the windows to see they were inching along in bumper-to-bumper traffic, not even to the highway yet. Aaron shivered again and rubbed his feet on the floor mat to build friction. His feet were fucking freezing.

“I can’t let you pay for my room.”

“It’s the least I can do. You restored my faith in humanity,” he said, sticking out his hand. “I’m Aaron. I get a corporate discount. It’s not a problem.”

“I’m Ted. Thank you,” the guy replied.

“Now, let’s see if we can make it that far,” he said, looking back out the window. The heater was blowing harder now. He handed the coat back to Ted and tugged the hood off his head to run his hands through his thick bleached-blond hair. He’d changed the color about a month ago and added purple and black to the tips. He’d planned to add turquoise just to mess with the boys at the FBI, but he’d run out of time.

The cold wetness of his shorts riding across his skin sent a shiver up his spine as his phone vibrated in his pocket. The only reason he checked it was to see if the hotel reservations had changed. A text from Kreed. Aaron swiped his finger across the screen to open the message.

“Let me know if you were able to ice skate your way through Atlanta so I don’t make a wasted trip to the airport.”

Interesting how even Kreed’s texts read in that cocky way he normally spoke. For some reason it grated on Aaron’s nerves more than usual. With a small smile, he shoved his phone back in his pocket, deciding to ignore the text. Let Kreed make the trip to Dulles to pick him up. Kreed deserved at least that much trouble for his part in insisting Aaron fly to DC in the first place.

~~~

SpongeBob SquarePants reruns played on the television set in the hotel room the FBI had assigned to Kreed Sinacola. He’d arrived late last night under a mandatory directive from the powers that be. Sadly, he’d had to leave his parents on the command of Director Carpenter who apparently hadn’t seen the need to end his own holiday vacation like he’d demanded of Kreed, Aaron Stuart, Special Agent Connors, and Special Agent Brown.

If Kreed chose to care, that would probably piss him off. But with twenty years of being a government employee under his belt, he knew how the top brass generally operated—all posturing, little performance.

Boredom more than anything had Kreed sprawled across the king-size bed, a couple of pillows tucked under his head as he absently tossed a blade in the air, artfully executing a perfect spin before catching the handle solidly in one hand each and every time. He didn’t pay much attention to the act itself, it was second nature to him. Where his longtime partner and buddy Deputy US Marshal Mitch Knox had his video games to keep him occupied during the long hours of downtime in their jobs, Kreed had his knives. The scars along his hands and arms proved the time he’d put in to becoming an expert bladesman.

A couple of minutes, maybe more, had passed since he’d texted Aaron Stuart, the little computer hottie he was assigned to pick up from the airport. The guy hadn’t responded. Since he’d seen the weather alerts crossing the bottom of the screen, he figured Aaron was stranded, pissed off, in some terminal somewhere. Hell, pissed off was probably mild because the guy had already been pretty damn upset he’d had to make this trip in the first place.

Kreed gave a little chuckle at the memory of the fit Stuart had thrown when he’d found out about the mandatory directive. Just wait until the sexy IT guy heard he was now being officially reassigned from the NSA to the FBI to help solve the case. Aaron had proven himself invaluable, negating all the years of government skepticism or maybe the better word was “fear” regarding his expert hacking ability. Kreed laughed out loud at that one. Yeah, they were scared shitless of Stuart’s skill set.

There was absolutely no doubt in the kid’s talent. Anyone who spent more than a few hours with the guy had to walk away impressed. Years ago, when Aaron was still a teenager, he had bested both the FBI and Department of Homeland Security when he’d broken into a system thought to be impenetrable—all as a fraternity prank or some shit like that. Of course, at the time he’d been “dealt with.” And like most of those types of things turned out, the kid ended up working for the NSA, doing what he did best, finding weaknesses in computer systems and networks. It was just like the government to turn a blind eye when they needed something from someone.