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the surface.

In a way, I wasn’t doing anything differently than I had before when I was still working with the mafia. Only this time, I was working for the good guys.

20

Jase

As soon as we’d gotten back to the office, Nick rushed off to give the USB he’d been holding the entire drive to Stein. I assumed he’d probably used it to rip information off of Shane’s computer or something, but I knew better than to ask for details. He was right when he’d said that he couldn’t tell me about it.

The law was complex when it came to informants and people working as agents of a federal law enforcement agency. If an informant called us with information pertaining to a crime, we could keep their identity a secret. Furthermore, we didn’t actually have to know how the informant had come across this information. In fact, a lot of the time, it was better if we didn’t know. This was because, if someone had information regarding a criminal matter, there was a good chance they were involved in that crime in some way. Either that, or they had broken the law in their quest to obtain that information.

However, because Nick had been brought on to consult on the case with us, he was technically bound by all the same rules and restrictions that we were. We couldn’t really claim that we had no idea how he’d gotten that information if we were the ones who had sent him to get it. This was the main reason that Nick often ran off and did things without giving me any warning or explanation afterward. This was the closest we could get to maintaining some semblance of deniability. Of course, it was all crap, but everyone in the office just looked the other way, and so far, we’d gotten away with it.

Now we were sitting in the break room while we waited for Stein to finish going over whatever he could pull from the USB. There were a few other agents hanging around in the break room, but most of them were giving us a wide berth. Aside from Chloe, most of the other agents seemed pretty wary of Nick, thanks in no small part to Bette.

“You wanna play crazy eights?” I asked. “I have a deck of cards in my bag.”

“Sure.” Nick shrugged.

“Let’s make it more interesting then,” I grinned as I pulled my wallet out of my bag as well as the deck of cards. “I’ll bet five dollars.”

“Crazy eights isn’t really a gambling game,” Nick chuckled.

“Yeah,” I shrugged. “But there are not that many fun card games for only two people.”

“Okay,” Nick hummed as he looked around the room before plucking a saltshaker off the counter next to him. “I bet this.”

“What?” I asked. “That’s not yours. You can’t bet that.”

“I don’t have any cash,” he retorted. “And it doesn’t matter if it’s not mine. As long as I don’t lose, I won’t have to give it to you.”

I stared at him in disbelief. In hindsight, trying to gamble with a former mobster was probably a stupid idea.

“Fine,” I huffed. “Let’s start. I’d like to see what your plan is when you lose, and you owe me a saltshaker that’s property of the SDCT.”

The smirk that Nick threw me was unnerving, like a shark eyeing its prey.

At least, that’s what I’d thought at first. Half an hour later, Nick had relieved me of my money, my wallet, my work bag, and my tie. After the last round, one of the newer agents, a fresh-faced kid named Roland Avery, had joined us. He was a twenty-three-year-old fresh out of college and barely old enough to be a federal agent, and he’d been here for a short enough time that it seemed Bette’s anti-Nick propaganda hadn’t reached him yet. I hoped we’d be able to steer him to our side before she did. Nick could use more allies here.

We’d switched to blackjack after Roland joined, but to my dismay, Nick was still winning every round and cleaning both of us out.

“Are you cheating?” I asked accusingly as I handed over the coffee cup I’d bet on our most recent round. I’d run out of things to give him and had just started betting stuff from around the break room too.

“Of course not,” Nick smirked. “You just have really easy tells.”

“What?” I scoffed. “No, I don’t. And how are you winning against both of us then?”

“I’m good at reading people,” Nick replied smugly. He was annoyingly cocky.

Now that I thought about it, it shouldn’t have come as a surprise, especially after I'd watched him wipe the floor with the other players during that poker game the previous night. Still, I hadn't expected him to be so ruthless against his own best friend.

“Hey, did you really used to be a part of the mafia?” Roland suddenly asked without warning. “I heard some of the other agents talking about it.”

I snapped my head around to stare at him, shocked by how brazenly he’d just asked that. Most people reacted with shock or fear when they first heard about Nick being a former mafia member.

“Yeah,” Nick replied. “I left a few years ago, though.”

“Whoa, that’s sick.” Roland grinned. “I’m glad you’re on our side now.”

Nick and I both turned to look at Roland, surprised by the cheerful expression on his face. Although most people didn't take it as far as Bette, none of the other agents had ever expressed that they were happy about having an ex-mobster working alongside them, except maybe Chloe.

“Nick, Agent Park,” Stein’s voice suddenly interrupted our conversation. “I’ve been looking for you. I got the results of the search ready. What is going on here?”

I followed his gaze down to the table. Cards were scattered across the surface, and an assortment of Roland’s and my things were gathered in piles on Nick’s side of the table.

“Ah, I see you boys got hustled, huh?” Stein chuckled. “Well, as much as I’d hate

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