Page 22 of Static/Cling

“What do you mean what part? The tech part? Isn’t that your gig?”

For a moment, Kassian stared at him.

“What?”

“You do know that most people assume I’m the muscle.”

“Well.” Leif frowned, because he didn’t get why people would assume that. It was obvious looking at him that he was a lot more than just a big guy. “You can do that too. If you want. I guess. But I need you to do what you’re actually good at, and help me make Bjorn’s life less… awful.”

“I’m good at being the fighter. A lot better than anyone else here. I have a black belt. Three, actually.”

“Good for you. Will you help?”

“Yeah. I’ll help.” Kassian’s brows drew down. “Thanks for asking.”

Leif threw up his hands. “Whatever, dude. Just.” He waved at Kassian’s computer. “Do your spy thing, and figure out why he almost had to melt down your precious baby.”

CHAPTER 4

EXTRA CURRICULAR

Kassian turned back to his computer screen, grateful for the coffee and the apparent reprieve from Leif’s annoyance.

Not that he needed it, he reminded himself. He didn’t need Leif to like him.

He stretched and flexed his back muscles. There had been a lot of boxes. “Keep telling yourself that.”

The computer screen flickered at him, and he sighed. “I don’t need him to like me.”

“But you want him to.” He kneaded at his lower back a bit and adjusted the lumbar support of his chair.

“Whatever.” He was busy. He didn’t have time to argue with himself about if it mattered who liked him or not.

He had to, as Leif had said, do his thing.

He was well aware why the cyber near miss had happened. He’d been caught snooping on a server where he didn’t belong. He’d been snooping because he had to know where that file he was following landed. He had to know that because the file was full of names. His name. Roger’s, Sal’s. At least two of his three older brothers. Maybe even, because that would be everyone’s luck, those two pretty idio—fuck. He had to stop that. Maybe it even held Bjorn’s and Leif’s names, and he could not have that.

Not to mention the dozens of names of people who didn’t need to attract the attention of the government, the military, or worse, the MNR. He’d seen what happened to his brothers when that ministry had gotten hold of them, and didn’t like the idea of that happening to anyone else he knew.

He glanced over at their new office mates. Leif had curled both feet up onto the big oak chair and lounged, headphones on, staring at his phone. Bjorn’s brow knit into an adorable knot as he read one of the files, turning pages at an improbable rate.

Kassian wanted to remind him the information he was skimming might save his life some day, but he’d antagonized the guy enough for a Tuesday morning.

No matter how accepting he had seemed in the stairwell, who didn’t even bat an eye when someone else showed interest in their guy?

“I wasn’t showing interest in either of them. That was the other way round.”

His chair creaked under his shifting weight. “And you were clearly very opposed to it.”

“Jesus. Shut the fuck up.” He prodded at his keyboard, trying to get his brain engaged in his job.

He could hear Rog in the storeroom, bouncing his ball off a wall.

Sal had headphones on too, listening to who knew what. They spent a lot of time listening, most likely to conversations they had no business listening in on, but that wasn’t the glass house he was about to throw stones at. An early heads-up had saved them before, and probably would again.

Sal’s spying often gave them an edge they needed. Sometimes it left them pissed off or scared too, but even they knew that was the price to pay for knowing ahead of time when a threat might be too real to ignore.

None of these people were built of stern enough stuff to withstand what his brothers Rufus and Randolph had undergone in the hands of an institution that saw them only as weapons, tools to be pointed into situations no one should have had to deal with.

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