Page 28 of Mafia Handbook

“So, tell me,” Milena lifted her fork in the air. “How did you go from getting into fights at school, to becoming a cyber security specialist?”

Leaning back in his chair, Bash used his napkin to wipe his mouth. “After my suspension, I dove head-first into school. When I began rapidly progressing, they moved me into advanced classes where I made new friends, who introduced me to video games.”

Smiling, Milena shook her head as she speared a tomato.

“What’s so funny?”

“I’m sorry,” she waved him off. “I find it hard to imagine you as this pocket-protector wearing, camped out in your aunt’s basement, bad case of acne, teenager.”

Standing from the table, Bash gathered his plate and empty glass. “Not even close,” he laughed, pointing at her abandoned plate, stacking it atop his. “Especially after my aunt brought home my first laptop. It was love at first sight for me. A love which grew when I figured out how to write code and build my own system.”

Milena joined Bash at the sink, the pair working in unison to clean what little mess they’d created.

“Thank you for this.”

“For what, dinner? You helped.”

“For dinner, taking my case,” folding the dish towel over the lip of the sink, Milena tipped her head up, locking eyes with Bash. “And for making me feel safe, something I haven't felt for a long time.”

Closing the distance between them, Bash ran the back of his knuckles along the swell of her cheek, “You deserve to feel safe.”

Leaning in, Bash licked his lips, tasting the sweetness of her breath on his tongue. Kissing wasn’t something he did as he found it too personal, blindly allowing someone so close went against the deepest part of him.

“G-goodnight, Bash,” Milena stuttered and pulled away, taking measured steps down the hall.

Leaning against the counter, Bash dropped his head, silently cursing himself for what he’d nearly done. He knew better than to get involved with a client, especially one who called to him as much as Milena did. Turning from the sink, Bash let out an exasperated sigh as he crossed the room to the security panel on the wall. Maybe Slate was right; maybe he was denying his feelings for Milena. Tapping the screen, he watched as Milena stood in front of the mirror, her fingers caressing the spot on her cheek where he’d touched her, a smile curling the same lips he’d wanted to kiss.

“You need to be straight with her, man,” he whispered to himself, tapping the monitor a second time to return her privacy. When the screen froze instead of turning black, Bash tapped it again, fear gripping his chest as he heard the locks disengaging on the doors and windows.

“Motherfucker.” Spinning on his heels, Bash ran down the hall toward his office, typing in the security code on the keypad, but it refused to open. Sprinting back down the hall, his eyes grew wide as the secret panel in his wall opened, revealing his arsenal of weapons.

Reaching for his cell, Bash swiped his thumb across the screen, but instead of the prompt to enter his security code, a red and black skull appears over a pair of skeletal hands tossing glitter. Slamming the phone to the floor, Bash dove into the open panel, retrieving a black bag from the floor. Dropping to his knees, Bash uttered a small prayer as he unzipped the bag and reached for his satellite phone. A sigh of relief left his lungs as the phone showed a full charge.

Startled by the sound of something crashing, Milena hurried to the end of the hall. Shock blanketed her body as she found Bash pacing the room, a black phone pressed to this ear.

“Code yellow!”

Milena jumped as Bash shouted into the phone, their eyes locking as he tossed the phone into a black bag.

“What’s going on, Bash? What is a code yellow?”

Clearing the distance between them, Bash gripped Milena by her shoulders, his eyes dancing between hers. “It means I have to get you the fuck out of here.”

“Why? You said this was safe.”

“Because he found you, Milena. Gridlock knows you’re here.”

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