The Art of You

Deciding it’d be better to show up in something other than PJs after my big brother embarrassingly walked in on us, I went ahead and changed.

I switched into jeans and the one hoodie Callie did pack for me. A simple Lululemon white one. Now, of course, I’d never look at Lululemon the same after seeing Hudson in those briefs.

Once in the kitchen, the anxiety of facing my big brother kicked up a notch.

I tugged at the hoodie drawstrings as I laid eyes on Constantine. He was standing in front of the bay window with his back to me, dressed more casually than normal in jeans and a black tee.

Enzo and Alessandro were also there, sitting behind the breakfast bar, focused on a laptop. They didn’t shoot me any knowing looks or lopsided grins. Or scowls, for that matter. Just quick good mornings.

“Callie still asleep?” I asked, making a beeline for the Nespresso machine.

“Yeah, I didn’t want to wake her.” Alessandro peered over the screen at me. “Malik’s outside the pool house, though.”

I popped the hazelnut-flavored pod into the machine and set one of the bigger mugs in place, then covered my nervous stomach with a shaky palm.

“So, what’s the news?” At Hudson’s deep voice, I spun around to face him. “What’d Marc find out in Arlington?”

He went straight to the laptop, not meeting my eyes, locked into operator mode. He was probably assuming that’d be the best way to cut through the awkwardness.

Enzo slid the laptop to his right so Hudson could have a look while bringing us up to speed. “Marc took a video of what he saw. We waited to wake you until we could get an ID on the man at the park with Clarke.”

When the coffee was ready, I decided to give it to Hudson instead, along with Advil. Only when I held out a single gel tablet for him did he look up. He accepted the coffee but didn’t touch the Advil until I upped it to two. He grumbled under his breath, then nodded his thanks before returning his attention to the laptop.

It was a miracle I didn’t need anything myself. My arm and shoulder weren’t even sore anymore. The poor guy seemed to have taken the brunt of the accident.

“The man Clarke met with is Seth Maverick. He works for the DOD at the Pentagon,” Alessandro explained after Hudson tossed back the pills.

Constantine faced the room, brows drawn, gaze tight on me. I couldn’t get the best read on him, not when I was pre-caffeinated.

On that note, I went to the machine to make myself a cup. Or better yet, a peace offering for Constantine in the form of java.

“Their conversation could have been related to the investigation, right? Or maybe he’s trying to find out why the case was taken from the FBI and handed over to the Agency,” Hudson suggested.

“Could be what he told his boss, at least.” Enzo pointed at something on the screen. “But look at this exchange here. Seth’s pissed. Shoves Clarke. Pointing back and forth between them. He’s angry about something.”

I abandoned my coffee endeavor and headed toward the viewing party. “I take it Marc couldn’t get close enough to overhear them?” Standing alongside Hudson, I pointed at the screen. “Can you zoom in so we can try and read his lips?”

“You’re always mouthing words, how about you give it a go?” Enzo teased.

He probably forgot I’d learned American Sign Language in college and could read speech damn well. Either way, he slowed down the video speed and hit play.

I watched the heated back-and-forth between Agent Clarke and this Seth guy. When I leaned forward in front of Hudson, he straightened his posture to give me a bit more space, keeping our bodies from colliding in front of Constantine. Good thinking.

“I’m almost sure he said the letters AAR,” I interpreted. “Rewind and replay again.” Hands to the counter, I brought my face closer to the screen. “Then after he pushes him, I think he says the word girlfriend. And that’s all I can make out.” I stood upright, drawing my hands to my waist.

“AAR.” Hudson’s eyes moved to his coffee mug. “What if Seth somehow got his hands on the real version of the after-action report for the operation in 2010 and gave it to Clarke?”

“And what, Clarke gave it to his girlfriend?” Enzo picked up with the line of thought.

Then I ran all the way home with it. “So, Kit and Clarke are dating, and he gave Kit the AAR. And now Seth’s reaming Clarke out at five in the morning, which says to me she wasn’t supposed to publish that. Maybe not yet, at least.” And the plot of this madness thickens. “Does that mean Kit, Clarke, and this DOD guy are working together to try and take down your father? Or did Clarke lie to Seth Maverick about his plans for the AAR?”

“Maybe this helps rule out the idea you have a stalker, at least,” Alessandro commented, letting go of a relieved sigh.

“I mean, a girl can hope, right?” I went over to the Nespresso machine, trying to pull off nonchalant in all of this when I was still, in fact, very “chalant.” That was definitely a word, right? “What if Clarke’s been keeping tabs on your father for a while, looking to nail him on something?” I faced Hudson again. “He could’ve gotten wind of Lola’s roommate reporting her missing, and that the ambassador denied she’d been taken days before the party.”

“Then he found out I was suddenly attending an event with the ambassador, and since it seems he’s privy to our extracurricular activities, he assumed I was going to rescue her daughter.” Hudson set down his coffee, hands going on each side of the mug.

“Clarke was probably planning to expose our side gig whether we failed or not,” Constantine said in a low voice. “But things didn’t go as he expected, so he had Kit run with that story.”

“Because the CIA hijacked the case from the FBI yesterday,” Alessandro added. “And now Seth’s pissed at Clarke, worried the headline will fall back on him as the source of the leak.”

“I didn’t think it was Alfie behind the photo and story.” Hudson shook his head. “But the fact Clarke had access to the AAR involving that op, not to mention I could’ve sworn I saw Alfie at the party, still doesn’t sit well with me. I think we’re missing something. There has to be more to the story.”

“You think Clarke reached out to Alfie after reading the AAR? Maybe he got Alfie on his side, encouraging him to help take you down?” Alessandro’s accusation had Hudson reaching for his coffee again.

“I don’t know what to think anymore.” Hudson looked over at me, frowning.

“What we need to do is talk to this homeless guy again. Get him clean. See if he can pinpoint any of our suspects as the one who paid him to be the delivery man,” Alessandro said.

“We’re still going to help sober him up in a non-kidnappy way, right?” Enzo asked him.

Alessandro looked over his shoulder as if checking for Callie. “Do what you have to do for expediency’s sake. But you know, the safe way.” He scratched his stubbled jawline. “Civil, I suppose.” He was turning a leaf, so it would seem.

And if my brothers could change and be slightly less morally gray to make their wives happy, then Hudson could be . . . well, I just wanted him to be happy. Happy and with me, preferably.

“Yeah, okay. As soon as the governor shows up and shares his news, I’ll hop on his helo back with him to the city. Whether he wants me to or not,” Enzo remarked.

“I also woke up Adelina an hour ago and asked her to see what she could find out about this Seth Maverick guy.” Constantine finally joined in on the conversation, but he didn’t budge from his place by the window.

“You two are getting quite comfortable, huh?” Alessandro’s joke earned him Constantine’s scowl. Better him getting that look than me.

Forgetting I’d started the coffee machine, I blinked in realization the cup was full. Talk about a metaphor I could use in my life right now. Not even half full. Just brimming with goodness. Please, please let that happen soon. For all of us.

I rounded the counter and brought my brother the peace offering.

Constantine stared down at the mug, and I hadn’t realized I’d chosen one that said Disney Princess on it. The corner of his lip hitched. Watching him fight that smile gave me hope.

He went to accept the mug, then stopped himself when his phone rang. “It’s Adelina, she must have something,” he announced.

I set the cup in front of him and went back to the machine to finally get my own drink.

“Hey, we’re all here,” Constantine told her. “Putting you on speaker. What’d you learn?”

“Morning,” Adelina greeted. “Well, I’ve discovered it’s a really small world.”

“Why do you say that?” I asked, going for a mug from the shelf. I chose the one that had NAVY on the side. If Constantine was going to be a princess, I could be the sailor today. At least I never lost my sense of humor, even in the face of all of our problems.

“Seth Maverick’s ex-wife is Sydney Archer-Hawkins, and Sydney works for Falcon Falls Security, which is where my twin sister, Mya, works.”

The mug fell from my hand at Adelina’s words, crashing to my bare feet and shattering.

“Don’t cut yourself, dammit.” Hudson to the rescue without missing a beat. He rounded the breakfast bar, skipping right by Constantine to bend down before me and pick up the broken pieces.

I squatted in front of him, our eyes meeting. “Did she say Falcon? And, um, sister? I thought her twin was missing.” It took me a second to notice I’d mouthed my words to him.

Hudson nodded, continuing to pick up all the pieces of my reaction. I assumed that was a yes to both my questions. “She’s alive. I just found out yesterday morning. I meant to tell you.”

“You lost your twin sister?” Enzo’s voice was low-pitched and grave. I forgot he was more than likely not-in-the-know on Adelina’s past.

“I did. She was taken when we were three, but she’s alive. I only recently found out. She’s in Italy right now, but she works with an American security company in a similar line of work as you do. So, that’s what I meant by small world.”

“It’s about to get even smaller.” Enzo’s deep voice cut through the room, and he had to be lost to the past now, thinking about Bianca. Wishing so much his twin, our sister, could be found, too. But she’d been murdered, not taken.

With his free hand, Hudson reached for my elbow and guided me to stand, probably worried I’d lose my balance given the weight of the conversation.

“What do you mean by smaller?” Adelina asked as Constantine swapped the phone for the Disney mug.

“Your sister works with a friend of mine, Jesse McAdams.” Enzo stood and tore his hands through his hair. “Jesse’s the one who broke the news to me that I didn’t kill the right person fourteen years ago for my sister’s murder.”

Really small world.

“Falcon, they, uh, well, we worked with them to figure out who really killed our sister,” Alessandro continued for Enzo, his accent growing thicker.

“I had no idea you did that. Or that you . . .” Adelina audibly cleared her throat over the line. “You were with them, weren’t you?” she whispered, as if now connecting the dots. “That’s why you really left the FBI, isn’t it?”

Hudson stared at the broken pieces of the Navy cup in his hand. More symbolism to complete the morning’s chaos. No, no, no. Where was my full cup of hope?

“Yeah, that’s why I eventually turned in my badge,” Hudson answered in a low voice.

“And this Agent Asshole knows about the deal our father cut with the AG to avoid prison time,” Alessandro let her know. “So, Clarke’s got an ax to grind with Hudson. Hell, with all of us. He’s not a fan of us playing outside the rules, but he sure is okay with doing it to try and fuck with us.”

“Hmm.” Adelina paused. “You’d think Clarke would also be pissed at his AG friend since he helped make the deal happen.”

“Dean, the AG, who I’ll now be referring to as Dean the Dickhead, probably manipulated Clarke the way he’s working over Kit and any other number of people to ensure he becomes governor next year.” I regretted part of my words the second I locked on to Hudson. He had to be thinking about Alfie now, wondering if Clarke or the Dickhead got to his old teammate, too.

“You should know, though, that the man we killed wasn’t a saint,” Constantine said, and I assumed he was speaking to Adelina now. He lowered his mug back to the counter. “He may not have been Bianca’s killer, but I don’t feel bad about taking his life, so let’s not start thinking about that now.”

And that comment was meant for Enzo. I knew by the way Enzo was raking his hands through his hair, he was spiraling a bit. Was he thinking about Bianca? Or still feeling bad about killing the wrong man?

My brothers and Hudson took responsibility for that guy’s death, but I also knew Enzo took that man’s last breath.

“Constantine’s right,” Alessandro said with a nod. “We have enough to worry about than to focus on some sick fuck who also deserved to die fourteen years ago. May that prick not rest in peace as far as I’m concerned.”

Enzo slowly faced the room, dragging his hand across his mouth before moving it down the column of this throat. “We can’t bring Bianca back,” he said while peering at me, “but we can ensure nothing ever happens to Izzy. So, I’m not leaving New York until I know with absolute-fucking-certainty that she’s not in danger.”

“Of course,” Adelina said almost immediately, and I was relieved she seemed fine with dropping the discussion about what had happened all those years ago. “I’ll call my sister and ask her to talk to Sydney for me. If it’s okay with you, I’ll explain what’s going on, and see what Falcon might know.”

I looked to Constantine next, curious if he’d object. He had a beef with one of the owners of Falcon Falls, Carter Dominick. Although, I supposed they kind of buried the hatchet when they operated together last year in Upstate New York. That partnership ultimately led to Enzo killing Bianca’s real murderer in our parents’ home on Long Island last fall.

“Yeah, that’s fine,” Constantine agreed as Hudson tossed the broken pieces of the mug in the trash.

Hudson then checked his watch, noting, “My father will be here soon, so let’s touch base later today. Swap notes.”

After the call ended with Adelina, Enzo announced, “I need air.” He scanned the room, looking at us all one by one, finally resting his gaze on Hudson. “I’ll be back once your father’s helo touches down.” He left before anyone could object, and I hated that he was reliving the nightmare of his past all over again.

“Why do I feel like none of this is a coincidence?” I spoke my thoughts aloud while mindlessly wandering back to the cabinet, prepared to get a new mug. “Like any of it.”

Constantine came over and reached up into the cabinet for me, offering me an orange mug that said Happiness is one cup away as he confirmed, “Because I don’t think it is.”