“We’ll get these changes made—” Kreed started, but Director Skinner cut him off mid-sentence, his loud voice booming through the speakerphone. Kreed instantly reached up to mute the phone, talking quietly to Mitch.
“He forgets we don’t work for him anymore.”
“Whatever. He just gave us a million-dollar fucking contract. He ordered me around for far less than that before,” Mitch teased, lifting a fist for a quick knuckle bump. This was turning out to be a great day for their little private security firm. They were finalizing this contract, and Aaron had Tristan Wilder in the office next door, going over the final stages of contract negotiations with Wilder, Inc. Everything was seriously coming together.
“Did either of you hear what I had to say?” Skinner barked, and Kreed quickly reached over, unmuting the phone.
“Say it again, Sir,” Kreed said, grabbing his pen, hiding the laugh bubbling inside. Skinner proved he was a straight-up good man to put up with either of them after they’d left the Marshals Service.
“I’m not your boss anymore. I’m your customer. You can’t ignore me like you did when you worked for me. Now, get that new shiny assistant you have to make an amendment to the contract. Don’t try and change the actual contract. I have authority to sign an amendment and get it back to you by end of day.”
“Will do. Thank you, sir,” Kreed answered, jotting down a few notes of his own.
“Yep. Thanks, Skinner,” Mitch piped in from the other side of the desk.
“Drop the sir. It scares me. Other than that, how’s it going?” Skinner asked, changing the subject.
“Really well. Stuart’s getting signatures on Wilder,” Kreed answered. Skinner had been their number one supporter in starting this business since the day Kreed had placed his resignation on his boss’s desk. He’d taken on a role as advisor, mentor, and now, top client.
“Good. They must need it. I just got a breaking news flash that Huckabee, the presidential candidate, had a breach in his website. Looks like they need you guys, too. You should get Aaron to give them a call,” Skinner said, and Kreed’s heart plummeted in his chest. His gaze connected straight with Mitch’s. Mitch still had no idea Aaron wasn’t Aaron Stuart, gaming buddy and ex-government employee.
“I gotta go,” Kreed said, rising immediately. “Knox’ll finish this off with you.”
Kreed got as far as the door before he remembered to yell a quick thank-you toward Skinner. His heart pounded in his chest at the possibility of Aaron being behind this hack. Years fell off his life with every step he took down that hallway.
Setting up house with Aaron had been better than he’d ever imagined once Kreed had managed to learn to always stay flexible. The kid was a pistol, and Kreed regularly had no clue what he’d be walking into. The constant hair, eye color, and clothing-style changes didn’t take too long to get used to. In fact, he loved being surprised. He enjoyed teasing Aaron about how Kreed got to be with a different guy almost every day. The random tattoos and piercings taking place in their living room—not just with Aaron, but also with his small circle of friends—had become its own kind of normal. Kreed had even added a few more tattoos to his already-extensive collection and gotten two piercings that his guy loved. The generational gap of music, television, and entertainment took a little longer to become accustom to, but he’d adapted because Aaron went out of his way to always make sure he was comfortable when venturing into those parts of his boyfriend’s life.
More than anything else, the extreme, progressive attitude and the lengths Aaron would go to in order to help people were ironically the hardest things for Kreed to wrap his mind around. Aaron took empathy to a whole new level. Kreed had learned quickly to channel Aaron’s social-conscience into physically helping the needy instead of making a corrupt company wave the white flag. Anytime an injustice was discovered, Kreed could see the gleam in smart boy’s eyes as he instantly planned a cyber-attack, and Kreed would step in and refocus his energies elsewhere.
Once Kreed managed to show Aaron there was a different way to help—a hands-on way to give assistance—he found it was nothing for Aaron to take off to the airport and lend his help to whatever natural disaster played out across the television screen. When social media came together to express their dismay over how someone was treated, his guy was already aware and forming rallies and protests around the world to help show support.
They’d switched to attending political rallies instead of Aaron hacking into the opposing side’s political website in order to make a big ass out of them. Kreed was busier than he’d ever been in his life, helping his guy channel all that energy away from his previous activities. He and Aaron worked really well together, and since he wanted Aaron and his high-strung honey wanted to help the world, Kreed regularly joined in on those tasks.
But now, with the news Huckabee had a breach, Kreed instinctively knew just where that had come from. Huckabee had been on a short list of people Aaron couldn’t stand. His guy had no tolerance for Huckabee’s politics or attitude toward the future of this country. He could so see his mister breaking down, falling off the wagon and back into the old mode while he should be finalizing the contract with Wilder, not playing around with hacking anyone.
Anger got the best of him as he busted open Aaron’s office door. Kreed held his frustrated tongue, trying to quickly come to some sort of mental plan to help save this account and pull Aaron out of his huge lapse of judgement. What he saw stopped him in his tracks. Tristan Wilder sat right next to Aaron. Both had their hands working at keyboards, their gazes fixed on the screen. Aaron looked back over his shoulder for a brief second.
“Hang on, Sin. We’re almost done,” Aaron said. He typed a few more strokes at the keyboard before Tristan laughed out loud, lifting a hand for a high five.