I frowned at him. “Then why take a gun at all?”
“Lets ’em know we’re not fucking around,” he said, getting out of the car and keeping the gun down by his thigh.
Liking this plan less and less, I shoved the gun into my pocket and got out of the car, staying close to Nicky as we climbed the well-worn steps. He paused at the top of the steps and rolled his neck, then motioned for me to stay where I was beside the door and out of sight. Then he took a deep breath and kicked the door in, quickly firing off three shots.
“Hello, Jack,” he said, his lips curling into a grin. “Good to see you again.” He stepped over the threshold, his gun trained on a target I couldn’t see. A few seconds later he called, “Come on in, doll!”
I swallowed hard, then peeked around the door, startled to see three burly guys nursing wounded shoulders, their guns lying on the ground at their feet. A series of tables along one wall were piled high with money—counterfeit, if I was to hazard a guess based on the equipment in the room. Sitting behind another table, his hands held up, was a man with a cocky, self-assured smile on his handsome face. His watery blue eyes sparkled with amusement, giving him a decidedly boyish look in conjunction with his carroty orange curls.
“Well, what have we here,” he drawled. “You gonna introduce me to the dame, Nicky?”
“Trish, Jack. Jack, Trish,” Nicky snapped. “Consider yourself introduced.”
Jack’s smile widened. “I’d stand and greet you properly, sweetheart, but your boyfriend has serious trust issues.”
Nicky took a step closer, tightening his grip on his gun. “You
double-crossed me on that deal with the Cyclops and nearly got me killed, you son of a bitch.”
Jack spread his arms. “Ah, come on, Nicky,” he drawled. “That was ages ago! Are you still holding a grudge over a little . . . misunderstanding?”
Nicky’s jaw tightened. Apparently the answer to that question was a resounding yes. Feeling I needed to diffuse the situation if we were going to get the information we wanted, I stepped forward and gently put my fingertips on Nicky’s gun, forcing him to lower it as I smiled at Jack. “Come now, gentlemen,” I said. “We’re all grown-ups here. I think we can have a civilized chat without dredging up the past, can’t we?”
Nicky’s eyes darted toward me briefly, and for a moment I thought he might debate that point, but he sighed and relaxed his shoulders. “Yeah, sure.”
I turned my gaze to Jack, who just shrugged. “I can play nice. For now. I’ll ask you to hand over that gun, though.”
Nicky narrowed his eyes, but then grinned, and held up his hand, letting the gun dangle upside down from his index finger. One of the wounded guards snatched it from his hand, then placed it on the table in front of Jack. Jack rose from his seat and came around to where we stood, a shit-eating grin on his face as he got up in Nicky’s grill. And for a second I thought they might take a swing at each other.
But then Jack laughed and grabbed Nicky, bringing him in for a brief man-hug, complete with smack on the back.
What the hell?
“Where the hell have ya been, you sneaky bastard?” he demanded, giving him a good-natured punch in the shoulder. “I thought you’d fallen off the face of the earth.”
Nicky shrugged and shoved his hands into his pockets. “You know, doing the odd job here and there.”
“Well, you coulda called me, let me know you were comin’,” Jack admonished. “You didn’t have to barge in and shoot my fuckin’ guards and shit.” Jack turned to me, shaking his head as he jerked a thumb at Nicky. “Always gotta make a statement, this one.”
I frowned at them. “So . . . you guys don’t hate each other? What about the double-cross thing?”
Jack waved it away. “That? That was just funnin’. I didn’t mean nothin’ by it. Nicky knows that. Hell—he’s nearly got me killed dozens of times. Keeps me on my toes, you know what I’m sayin’?” He didn’t wait for me to respond before turning back to Nicky. “So what’s doin’? What brings you by now after being off the grid for almost two years?”
“I need some information,” Nicky told him, his expression growing serious.
Jack nodded. “Why don’t we go upstairs to my office?” We started after him, but he held up a hand and offered one of his boyish grins. “Sorry, but I gotta have my guys frisk your dame. Just business, you understand.”
One of the guards reached out to pat me down, but Nicky intercepted his hand and twisted his arm so quickly the guy was face-down on the ground before he even knew what’d hit him. “Don’t think so. Trish isn’t business. Not to me. Your guys touch her, I break their arms.”
Jack glanced back and forth between us. “All right. All right. No worries.”
I let my breath out on a gasp, not realizing I’d been holding it. I sent a glance Nicky’s way, wondering why he’d decided not to let them take my gun after all. From the look he sent back my way I could tell he might trust his friend Jack, but the guards were apparently a different story. Better safe than sorry, I guess. And seeing as how I was in Nicky’s world at the moment, I sure as hell wasn’t going to argue with his change of plans.
I could still feel the harsh gazes of Jack’s guards on my back as we climbed the stairs to the second story, where Jack had set up an office. I don’t know what I was expecting, but it certainly wasn’t the rows of computers that were running scripts and calculations. One of them had the FMA’s database displayed. And at another of the computers a young man with bright orange spiky hair was busy tapping away on the keyboard.
“I’ve almost decrypted these files, Dad,” he said, without looking away from the monitor. He chuckled. “These idiots think they can keep me out? Don’t call us ‘nimble’ for nothin’!”
Jack coughed and cast a glance at Nicky and me. “Why don’t you take a break, Ethan? We’ve got visitors.”
Ethan’s fingers froze midstroke; then he typed a quick key combination, locking his screen before turning around to offer us the same boyish grin his father had. “Hey! Uncle Nicky! Haven’t seen you in ages! Did that hack job I did for you a couple of years ago work out okay?”
I wondered if Ethan was the guy who’d hacked into some files for Nicky back on the Sebille Fenwick case when he was trying to help Red. Based on the way Nicky’s face fell, I figured I was probably right on the mark.
“Yeah,” he said. “Yeah, thanks, kid. Got just what we needed.”
Ethan’s smile broadened. “Sweet! You ever need anything else, you let me know. Always happy to help out my godfather.”
My brows shot up. Godfather?
As Ethan headed for the door, Nicky grabbed the boy around the neck and ruffled his hair, then pressed a kiss to the top of his head. “You stay out of trouble, you hear? Don’t let your old man get you into any scrapes, or I’ll kick your ass.”
Ethan laughed, ducking out of Nicky’s hold. “Yes, sir.”
“So, how’s Vera?” Nicky asked as we all took a seat.
Jack grunted. “As beautiful as the day I married her,” he said. “Can’t figure out why she’d stick it out with me, but I’d be lost without her. She’s one helluva woman.”
“Give her a kiss from me,” Nicky said.
“She’s pissed as hell you haven’t been to Sunday dinner in so long,” Jack told him. “You and Trish come over soon. Vera’ll cook you up a feast.”
Nicky inclined his head, that smile I was beginning to recognize as his business expression curving his lips. “It’d be our pleasure.”
Jack put his elbows on his desk and clasped his hands, giving Nicky a rather pained look. “And, I’m sorry—but I gotta say it. We were real sad to hear about Jules.”
Nicky shifted uncomfortably in his chair and cast a glance my way. “Forget about it.”