Page 9 of Keeping Kasey (Love and Blood #3)

The fact that Logan drives an all-black Rolls-Royce Phantom has to be the most cliché thing about him yet.

“One of them,” he answers, rounding the car to the driver’s seat.

“And I’m sure all of them are just as gaudy,” I mumble as I climb inside.

For the first time in my life, I wish I had my license. I’ve lived in cities my whole life and barely leave my home anyway, so I’ve never needed to drive myself. Now, it means I’ll be carpooling with Consolis for the foreseeable future.

The car is pristine, and I wonder what reaction I’d get if I rested my feet on the dashboard. I have half a mind to try it, but he speaks up before I can.

“Why Pac-Man?”

I shrug. “Everyone likes Pac-Man.”

“I don’t.”

“I get the feeling the list of things you do like could fit on an index card.”

“A post-it,” he mutters, almost too low for me to hear.

“Did you just make a joke?”

He doesn’t answer, but I could swear his lip twitches upward.

I spend the rest of the drive taking in the structures around us: massive industrial buildings that look like they haven’t been used in years. None of them are particularly grand, but they all have the same worn, red bricks and tall, dirty windows.

I must be making a face because Logan raises a brow.

“Doesn’t look like much,” I say.

“That’s the point.”

He pulls the car into an underground parking garage and quickly clears the three security gates before gliding in.

The garage is painfully average-looking, and Logan parks in a spot closest to the elevator and door leading inside.

We get out of the car in silence, and I follow him to the elevator, which is metal on all sides except the back, which is black.

I don’t get the smug look on Logan’s face until the elevator starts rising—then I have to press my lips together to keep my mouth from falling open.

The wall isn’t black; it’s glass, and as we ride from the underground level, I get a clear view of the base’s interior. We seem to be rising directly into the center of the base.

It’s a vast room, with the same red brick from outside making up the interior walls and a glass ceiling that shows the towering warehouses surrounding us—which I realize are all connected.

Metal walkways with black railings outline the seven floors, and stairs go from one level to the next.

Each floor is lined with black metal doors, and that’s all there is in the way of decoration.

It’s a hub of activity, with at least fifty men moving about, and a few of them stop to watch our arrival.

“You were saying?” Logan asks, pride evident in his tone.

“I’ll admit I’m impressed.”

The volume change is immediate when we step out of the elevator on the fourth floor. The room is all hard surfaces, so voices and footsteps echo around us.

I follow Logan out, peering over the railing to people-watch. Logan wasn’t kidding about the dress code. Everyone here looks ready to walk into a corporate boardroom. It’s not exactly what I expected from a criminal base of operations.

I’m starting to wish I had changed.

I pretend not to notice the men whose eyes follow me like I’m a walking blue marker. I’m also painfully aware of how the leggings cling to my skin, leaving very little to the imagination.

Okay, I definitely should’ve changed.

I follow Logan down a hallway, glad to be away from prying eyes.

However, Logan still watches me carefully, and I don’t miss the slight pull of his lip.

“What?”

“You should’ve changed.”

I make a point of rolling my eyes. “I’m comfortable.”

“Sure you are,” he says, wearing the most infuriating, self-satisfied grin.

We take a turn, and James is waiting for us in front of a door. I don’t miss his amused grin, and I’m willing to bet it’s at my outfit. “About time. Everyone’s waiting.”

Logan ignores him and shoves the door open.

We enter a conference room with six people sitting around the table—most of which I know from my research.

The Consoli capos—Ford, Damon, and Logan’s cousin, Matteo—sit on one side of the table.

Joshua Moreno, a small, dark-haired girl I don’t recognize, and Donovan Riley—Moreno’s underboss—occupy the other side.

The room goes silent when we walk in, and the expressions confirm one fact.

Logan didn’t tell anyone that I’m a woman.

“Are we starting this meeting with a yoga lesson?” Moreno asks with a sardonic smile.

Logan returns the expression. “I thought you could teach us the move that got your head stuck so far up your—”

“Unnecessary,” says the girl beside Moreno, who places a hand on his arm as she glares at Logan.

“Who’s the kid?” Moreno asks, his expression settling into one of disinterest.

I’ll admit—to myself—that the outfit choice wasn’t a smart one, but I won’t put up with degradation.

“My name is Kasey, and I’d refrain from belittling me, Mr. Moreno, or I might just hack all your bases next time,” I say with a bright smile and sit in one of the open seats, leaning back like I don’t have a care in the world.

“Meet Cam,” Logan says dispassionately, taking the seat at the head of the table, directly across from Moreno.

There’s a moment of silence as each person around the table comes to the realization that I’m the one responsible for single-handedly holding their base’s power hostage.

The girl’s bursting laugh breaks the silence.

She has brown hair cut just below her shoulders and a round face that gives her a soft, feminine appearance.

She wears a white top made of loose, silky material, and though I can’t see her pants from where I sit, I’m sure they’re far more appropriate for this meeting than mine.

Her eyes are a deep shade of brown, and right now, they’re squinted as she laughs.

Her smile is wide and unmistakably genuine. “It’s nice to meet you, Kasey. I’m Elise.”

The only Elise I know of is Logan’s sister, who died when she was seventeen. I glance between her and the Consoli brothers at the table, and there certainly is a resemblance.

She reads the question on my face. “I’m legally dead,” she explains like it’s an everyday inconvenience. “My dad faked my death a few years ago, and I went into hiding.”

“I can fix that,” I hear myself say.

I have no idea where the offer came from, but I don’t retract it.

Elise’s eyebrows shoot up, and she looks at Moreno, whose eyes are narrowed to slits directed at me.

“Really?”

I shrug. “Deleting a death certificate isn’t rocket science. By the end of the day, I could make it look like the faked death never happened.”

“That’s not a good idea,” Moreno says. “There are too many people who would use you as a bargaining chip.”

“You’re one to talk,” she deadpans.

“I’m starting this meeting now,” Logan announces. “Keep your lover’s quarrel to yourself.”

Lovers?

If Elise and Moreno are together, it would explain the sudden alliance. She must have tied the families together. Elise’s past is a thread I should’ve deemed worth pulling before now.

Moreno drags his glare from me to Logan, waving for him to go on.

“Kasey will replace the security systems in each of our families’ bases. This will ensure no more power outages,” Logan tells them, then looks at me. “How long should it take at each location?”

“Depends on the size of each base, but I’d say anywhere between ten and twenty-four hours.”

He nods. “You’ll train Ford and Moreno’s cybersecurity capo on the system as you install it here. The three of you can divide up the bases to make the installation process faster.”

Donovan—Moreno’s right-hand man—pulls out his phone. “I’ll arrange for Kade to fly in tomorrow.”

“Once that’s done, we’ll address the main reason we’ve hired Kasey,” Logan says. “Regardless, as far as anyone outside this room is concerned, Kasey was brought in to address the security threat posed by the power outage.”

“Conveniently leaving out the fact that she is the threat,” Moreno mutters.

“ What I am is good at my job,” I tell him. “Whether or not I’m a threat depends on your choice to make me one.”

Moreno pretends I haven’t spoken and looks at Logan. “I don’t see why we should trust her. She’s a gun for hire. Who’s to say she won’t finish this job, then sell family secrets to the highest bidder?”

The fact that he talks about me like I’m not even here pisses me off, but I don’t get the chance to bite back.

Logan grabs the back of my chair. He doesn’t touch me, but the gesture somehow feels like a hand wrapping around my throat.

“Kasey will be staying at the manor during her time here. She’ll be closely watched. Besides, she’s not stupid,” he says. “She knows that working against us would mean having half the country hunting her down for the rest of her life. Don’t you?”

Logan looks to me expectantly, and I make a show of rolling my eyes and shoving his hand off my chair.

“Trust me, I’m already counting down the days until I can get away from here and pretend none of you exist,” I tell them, then stand and meet the eyes of every person around the table. Most regard me with either amusement or annoyance, but loathing oozes from one person.

Ford.

“I’ll uphold my end of this deal as long as you uphold yours,” I say. “Whether you choose to trust me is up to you, and makes no difference to me. I’m the best at what I do, and you’re lucky to have me.”

Damon raises a hand, wearing a wide grin. “Well, I like her.”