Play Dirty (Wages of Sin #2) - Neve Wilder Page 0,37

to you.”

“Which time?” Cas lolled his head toward him, his tone sarcastic, but his gaze curious.

“Any of them? All of them?”

“Were you jealous?”

Madigan shrugged. “I don’t know. Maybe. Jealous you stitched yourself into Jonah’s life in a way I never could.”

“That’s not true.” Cas’s gaze strayed to the porch again, and the corner of his lips twitched, like he couldn’t help himself. “You’re probably more deeply ingrained in him than I am. Just…differently. Like brothers now, maybe.”

“Something like that. Anyway. I’m sorry.”

“Jonah!” Cas called out, and Jonah was on his feet in a second, posture tense, hands gripping the railing tightly as he stared alertly down at them. “Something’s wrong with Madigan.” Cas grinned.

“Oh, come on,” Madigan muttered.

“There a problem?”

“Madi just apologized to me.”

Jonah relaxed, shaking his head at both of them before returning to his work.

An hour later, Madigan stood and stretched, then threw his towel over his shoulder.

“Where are you going?” Cas asked.

“Back to the States.”

“No, I mean right now. As in, if you’re going inside, will you bring me back a bottled water?”

“I meant right now.”

Cas made a face. “God, mercs are so fucking weird. Fine. I’ll loop you in on anything else I uncover.”

Madigan nodded. “Good. If we have enough intel, Soren and I can probably make a solid plan for disrupting the network and taking it down.” He rubbed at a sudden pang in his chest. It felt strange—traitorous, even—not to include Azrael.

“I can help with any hacking needs that come up.”

“Yeah?” Madigan arched a brow skeptically.

Cas shrugged. “You apologized. I accept. Now, I’m ready to help.”

Inside, Madigan packed his bag quickly, wishing other things could be mended as easily as he’d seemed to mend fences with Cas.

Jonah eyed him from the couch, where he’d stretched out. From the bedroom came the sound of Cas showering, and all of it suddenly felt too domestic. Definitely time to go.

Jonah tilted his chin toward the Glock as Madigan placed it in its case. “That’s a nice piece. Where’d you pick it up?”

“Azrael took it off a guy in Rio.”

Jonah’s brow perked. “And what? Gave it to you? Like, a gift?”

“I guess so.” Aside from technical details he’d fed Cas, Madigan had managed to avoid discussing the nature of the time he’d spent with Az in Rio for the entirety of his visit. He had no desire to get into it now. He zipped the case brusquely and tossed it on top of his bag.

“How long have you been fucking him?”

In the back of his mind, he’d known Jonah would see through him. He sighed. “Too long.” The scale of time between them felt distorted—to Madigan, at least. Both eons and seconds long. Something had shifted in Rio, though. Yeah, he reminded you why you shouldn’t trust him. Madigan grimaced, because while that might have been true, too, the one thing he kept coming back to over the past few weeks was that he hadn’t wanted to leave. Because you want him anyway.

“You know why we never would’ve worked?” Jonah said.

In hindsight, Madigan could name a few reasons, but he was curious what Jonah’s explanation would be, considering they’d screwed around more than a handful of times over the years. It’d never rung of anything other than convenience, though there’d been a few times when Madigan had almost wanted it to be something else. “Enlighten me.” He shoved another shirt in his duffel bag, tossed the Glock on top, and zipped it up.

“We’re similar. Not alike,” Jonah clarified when Madi chuckled softly, “but similar. Don’t trust easy, and it takes a lot for us to let our guard down.”

“That’s why we’re alive.”

“Not disagreeing there, but if you keep everything zipped up so tight, there’s not any room for…” Jonah scratched his jawline pensively. “For really nice Glocks that might come in handy somewhere down the road during a fight you weren’t even aware you were part of.”

Madigan’s brows furrowed, and then they both burst into laughter.

“Analogies aren’t your strong suit.”

“Yours either.” Jonah flipped him off. “You know what I mean, though.”

Madi didn’t want to, but he did. The feeling lived in his chest, expanding with every passing day and every tight breath. A sense of loneliness he hadn’t realized had been keeping pace alongside him every time he ran.

“Be careful. Be smart.” Jonah’s gaze softened. “Don’t miss your shot.”

“That one worked a little better.” Madigan hitched his bag on his shoulder. “I’ll message when I’m stateside.”

Madigan strolled leisurely behind a man and woman trying desperately to keep their