Chapter Seven
The bright, hypnotic lights of the casino flashed like a beacon off in the distance. The bursts of neon and LED blurred together in Emma's vision as she gazed out the car window on the way to the hotel that was attached. Beside her, Killian was confirming things with Hyde and Arlo who were up front, driving them to their destination while also keeping a watchful eye for any trouble they might encounter on the way.
With Killian's focus now centered on the days ahead, Emma sat in the relative quiet of the comfortable SUV as her mind ran rampant with thoughts so loud and on the verge of hysterics it was a wonder the all-too-perceptive man couldn't hear them. Those parts of herself tasked with building and maintaining her walls were shouting down from the crumbling ramparts, demanding to know why she had opened up to him like that. Her superpower, that uncanny ability she had that sensed when someone was lying to her, couldn't stop wondering how he was capable of reading her so well, of understanding her, of seeing into the innermost parts of her soul to the places even she tended to avoid.
Then there was the voice she had been trying to muzzle since the moment she'd clamped eyes on Jones; the one that murmured into her ear and whispered down her spine, stirring up desires and temptations with each encounter and echoing under her skin when she lay awake at night fantasizing. Only now, that voice was different. No less alluring or sordid, yet it had changed, much like things between her and Killian had changed. Something had shifted between them during their shared drink. She could feel it even now with him sitting on the opposite side of the car. It was no longer simply a physical attraction or carnal pull she felt towards him, no. There was more to it, and as much as that scared her, it was even more alarming how much it didn't.
Killian shifted in the seat beside her, pulling her attention away from the window and her inner dilemmas, a concerned and assessing expression furrowed between his brows and flickering in his too blue eyes. Turning her body towards him, Emma took in a deep breath and shook off her lingering musings. They would be arriving at the hotel soon and she needed to get her head in the game so they could focus on the mission at hand.
"Wanna give me a quick run down of things before we get there?" she asked, squaring off her shoulders and lifting her chin, signalling to him she was prepared to work.
His eyes swept over her one more time. Seemingly convinced she was ready, he began laying out the tentative itinerary, as well as speculating who all would be here.
"Representatives from the Mills, Gold, and Pendragon families will all likely be in attendance," he told her. "And as I mentioned, they'll all have someone with them to serve as their…" his hand gestured in a flippant manner as he rattled off, "escort-slash-companion-slash-date for the various events and activities." Running his hand over the stubble littering his jaw, he toyed with the bits under his lip before adding, "Though, perhaps not the Mills."
"Because that family is led by the matriarch and has no sons, biological or otherwise, to act as second in command?"
"Aye," he replied with an impressed tone and cheeky brow. "Someone has done her homework."
"I looked into them after we learned about their potential rat problem," she said. "Since they operate further south, I haven't had much interaction with anyone associated with their business. My jobs typically keep me in Storybrooke or up north, chasing down skips headed for the border."
"So you would have had dealings with the Pendragon family, then."
"Not directly," Emma assured him. "I've never even seen Arthur Pendragon, or any of his lieutenants, that I'm aware of. So, the only people who will know who I really am are R.G. and Neal."
R.G. being the head of the Gold family, the son of Malcolm Gold who had come over from England and established a criminal empire many worried would clash with the organization Brennan Jones had already created after leaving the UK many years before. Fortunately, Malcolm and Brennan had forged something of a truce before the former's death, a peace that existed to this day. Emma didn't know much about the understanding that kept the two powerful families from declaring all out war upon one another, and wondered if it would be part of the business Killian was there to conduct.
"Won't it be considered strange that neither your father nor brother are here?" Emma asked. "Won't it be expected that the head of the family, or at least his second, be in attendance? You said Liam was supposed to come, and I know your father's illness is something you've both worked hard to keep secret, so-"
"Liam has been operating as head of the family for some time," Killian confided. "Under the guise of training him up. My father hasn't attended events like this in years, so his absence won't raise any eyebrows." His fingers twisted the ring on his thumb, circling it around the digit while he reined in his agitation. "No doubt my brother will have informed our contacts of the change, and the news of Flynn's death, and our assumed connection, will have spread throughout the families. Liam's place is back home where he can keep a handle on things, so no, I don't think anyone will think twice about my being here instead of my father or brother. If any of them were to be in a similar situation, they would handle things much the same."
Emma reach over and placed her hand on his knee, something inside her reacting to the disgrace and humiliation she hadn't considered he'd be feeling at essentially being exiled by his family for the mess Flynn's murder had made. It was another example of the change occurring between them, her desire to console him, to offer support and encouragement, to do whatever was necessary to allow him to save face in front of the other families, as well as criminal movers and shakers, who would be watching their every move while gauging just how far from his father and brother's graces the younger Jones had fallen.
Killian's eyes flicked down to her hand then up to her gaze which she knew was baring everything she felt in that moment. After his eyes flickered between hers, reading that which she couldn't put into words and knowing he wouldn't want her to, lest it made him feel further weakened in front of his men, Killian took her hand and lifted it up towards his mouth. Placing an appreciative kiss to the pulse point of her wrist as the car pulled into the drive of the hotel and slowed to a stop under the portico, she could feel his devilish smile return as it brushed against her skin.
"Ready, love?" he asked, not relinquishing hold of her hand until she nodded and Arlo had the door open for her to exit.
Stepping out the vehicle, Emma took a deep breath and waited for Killian to round the car, taking her hand once more as Hyde and Arlo collected the luggage before the valet pulled away in the SUV. They hadn't taken more than a few steps when Killian stopped to retrieve his buzzing phone from his pocket. When his eyes darted up from the screen to catch hers, she knew immediately who was on the other end of the call.
"It's Liam," he confirmed, squeezing her hand. "Go with Arlo. He'll get you checked in and see to the bags. Hyde and I will catch up."
Emma swallowed back her nerves and nodded her assent, feeling the loss of his hand and the reassurance it had given her when he released hers in order to walk towards the courtyard where he could take the call in relative privacy. Taking in another deep breath, she straightened her posture and followed Arlo into the lobby while Hyde shadowed Killian. When her heels met the marble floor of the opulent reception area, Emma was fully in character, ready to play her part as a mob boss' girl, assuming that at any given moment someone associated with the life might have their eyes on her.
And right now there were quite a few eyes on her. The eye-catching outfit Killian had insisted she wear was garnering quite a bit of attention, as was the imposing man escorting her towards the reception desk.
"Jones," Arlo told the woman at check-in.
While he answered her questions and provided all the documentation she required, Emma scanned the lobby as though interested in its finishes and architecture while making mental notes of those milling about. Some she recognized as associates or members of the criminal class while others seemed to be ordinary, average people here for the high-rollers events with no other nefarious purposes than trying to beat the house.
"We're a little early," Arlo said, drawing Emma's attention back to the check-in process. "She said it'll be a few minutes before the room is ready."
Emma smiled over at the anxious looking woman and assured her, "That's fine. I'll just grab a drink at the bar while I wait." Gesturing towards the area across the lobby Emma turned to Arlo and asked, "You can keep an eye on me from here while you wait for the key, right?"
"I don't think the boss will-"
"...mind if I sit at the bar and have a drink," she countered. It might be expected that a Jones girl would have a protection detail, but Emma wasn't about to have her choices dictated to her. She could take care of herself, and Killian damn well knew it. "And if he does, he can take it up with me."
Turning on her heel, Emma made her way over to the bar and ordered a drink before slipping onto one of the barstools at the end where at least Arlo would have a clear view of her. She didn't need to make the man's job any harder, after all.
With the better portion of a bottle of rum she'd shared with Killian back on his yacht still working its way through her, Emma sat and nursed her drink while she waited, not wishing to dull her senses further. Especially when she still had dinner and likely even more drinks to get through. However, the inclination to down her glass and demand another hit her full force when a familiar voice called out from behind her.
"Emma?"
Emma stiffened and schooled her features before swiveling in her seat. Standing almost directly behind her was none other than Neal Cassidy, heir to the Gold family and the man who had given her a taste of just how bitter a life connected to the mob could be.
"Neal," she replied back in a clipped tone, fighting off a shudder as his eyes roamed over her unwelcomingly.
"What… what are you doing here?" he asked.
Before Emma could answer, or tell him to take a hike, she still hadn't quite decided which option would be most advantageous towards her overall goal the next few days, Arlo approached. Positioning himself between Emma and the potential threat anyone who approached her would surely be considered to be, he handed over a small envelope.
"Your and Mr. Jones' suite is ready," he told her. "The bags are being sent up now so you can go dress for dinner once you've finished your drink."
"Thank you, Arlo," she said, meeting his concerned look that was clearly asking her if she wanted him to get rid of the man still hovering nearby. Waving him off she said, "Mr. Cassidy and I have some catching up to do."
Arlo glared over at Neal then turned his attention back to Emma. "I'll be right over there if you need me," he said, indicating to some vantage point by the bar's entrance. Nodding her thanks, she watched the hulking man leave without going too far, then gave her attention back to Neal who looked as though he had swallowed a mouthful of broken glass.
"I heard you were working with Jones now, but I didn't believe it," he stated in a low and incensed voice, causing Emma's brow to arch up her forehead. "I thought you didn't want anything to do with the life," he accused. "That's why you took the money when my father offered to buy you off, right?" Emma's mouth fell open as a gasp rushed past her lips. Neal's demeanor shifted as he looked her over again, and stepped forward, dropping his voice even further. "I guess a lot can change in eight years." He skimmed two fingers down the bareness of her arm, his touch and expression making Emma's skin crawl. "But now that I know you're open to it…"
Emma swatted his hand away and balled her fists. "You think I took his money?" she seethed. "I didn't take his money, Neal. I tore up that goddamn check and threw it back in his face." The shock that flashed across his face did little to diffuse the pent up anger she'd been suppressing for years, but she was mindful enough of the other patrons and Arlo's presence to keep herself from completely going off on the man. With barely-held restraint, she kept her voice low as she confronted him with the truth of what had happened. "The next day I went to meet you at our place after getting a text I thought was from you, only to find myself in handcuffs. He set me up for the watches you stole, and I got eleven months in juvie."
"Emma, I…" Neal stammered, hands held up in supplication as though he were entirely innocent in the matter. "I didn't know-"
"Because you never cared enough to come looking," she accused. "He told you I took the buy off after I had told you I loved you and wanted us to be together, and you never once tried to find me to confront me about it. It wouldn't have taken much digging to find me, Neal. You never even tried. You believed him instead of believing in me, and that's the thing I can never forgive you for." Slipping off the barstool, she collected her things and shoved past him, turning back at the last minute to assert, "That's why I'm with Jones now. Killian believes in me. He values me. That's why I'm with him."
Neal balked and his eyes snapped down to the envelope in her hand, only now processing her bodyguard's words. "When you say with him, you don't mean…"
"There you are, love." Killian's purring lilt preceded the feel of his arm wrapping around her waist. When she looked over at him she had to keep her wits about her as he leaned in to press a firm and possessive kiss to her lips. She couldn't help but melt into him slightly, not wanting the kiss to end and whimpering slightly when he pulled away. Brushing the tip of his nose against hers, his eyes opened, revealing darkened edges of both desire and rage that threatened to snuff out the forget-me-not hue of his irises. A heavy exhale released from his chest and he turned towards an almost completely forgotten about Neal, watching the brief but heated moment with an expression that looked as though he'd had a second helping of the broken glass he'd swallowed earlier.
"Neal," Killian greeted with a false sense of cordiality.
"Killian," Neal reciprocated with little more than a croaking sound.
"Forgive me for stealing my Swan away," Killian said, before fixing his attention back onto Emma with a seductive hitch of his brows emphasizing, "But our suite awaits and there's still time to work up an appetite before dinner."
Without giving Neal a second thought, Emma let Killian lead her from the bar to the bank of elevators. She could feel the anger radiating off him and wondered how much he'd overheard of the conversation between her and Neal. They both remained silent on the ride up to one of the corner penthouses, the elevator feeling claustrophobic from the tension and the looming presence of their bodyguards, despite being made entirely of glass. Emma allowed the time it took for them to make it to their suite to try and calm her racing heart and libido. It was going to be a long week if every touch, every heated look, every kiss exchanged for the benefit of selling this ruse left her hot and bothered and ready to tear the man's clothes off.
Especially when she knew he wanted to do the same to her, and then some. All she had to do was say the word. Fortunately, those weren't the words Killian was concerned with when they entered their suite, leaving Hyde and Arlo to monitor the hallway.
"Tell me," he demanded, stripping off his jacket and tossing it onto a nearby chair before marching over to the wet bar to pour himself a drink. "Tell me what the bastard did to you so I have justification for finding his room and putting a bullet in his gut."
"Killian," Emma replied with a hint of censure in her voice. "We both know you can't do that without starting a war. He isn't worth that."
"Aye," Killian relented, slamming the bottle back down. "But you are."
His eyes bore through her as he tossed back the alcohol, his Adam's apple bobbing amid the strained cords of his neck as he ground his teeth together. Emma wet her lips and left his statement hanging as she made her way to the seating area, sinking down onto the couch and releasing a long suffering sigh.
Killian echoed it with one of his own and joined her on the couch. "I wanted to let you tell me in your own time," he said quietly. "But after witnessing the way his presence affected you, I have to know. It could affect the way we conduct ourselves these next few days and…"
"And what?" she asked, turning her eyes to his, her breath catching at the look of cold determination she saw burning in his blue depths.
"I have to know it's over," he said. "That whatever existed between you is-"
Emma cut off his words with an involuntary laugh at the absurdity that there were any lingering feelings between herself and Neal Cassidy, and told him as much.
"You can't blame me for being concerned," he asserted. "You loved him once, and for all I know, you still do."
"If I didn't know any better, I would say you were jealous," Emma teased, causing his demeanor to darken further.
"Maybe I am," he said with a shrug, swallowing another large portion of his drink. "And maybe I want to punish the man for the pain he clearly caused you."
Removing the glass from his grip, Emma set it on the coffee table then took his hands in hers. "How many times do we have to go through this?"
Slipping one hand from her grasp, he swiped his palm down his face then massaged both temples with his thumb and fingers. "Aye, I know. But when Arlo texted Hyde to tell him you were conversing with Cassidy, I-"
"Couldn't help but rush right over?" she quipped with a taunting smirk, throwing his words from the other day back at him. "My hero."
A scoff huffed from his chest and a reluctant smile twitched at his lips. Emma collapsed back against the couch cushions, her hand still wrapped around his, and let go a heavy breath before diving into the tale.
"I didn't know who Neal was when I met him. That he was Gold's son or had any ties to the mob," she told him. "He went by Neal Cassidy back then."
"Aye," Killian replied. "His mother's maiden name. He used it for protection and to distance himself from the Gold name after his mother was accidentally killed in some turf war the Gold's fought when they relocated here, establishing their borders."
"He was running with a small crew," she continued. "Odd jobs, small scams, the occasional heist. They gave me a place to belong after Robert…" Killian's hand tightened around hers and she swallowed back her heartache. "Neal and I became more than partners in crime after a few weeks and it lasted for about six months."
"How did it end?" Killian asked. "Did a job go wrong? Is that how you ended up in juvie?"
Emma shook her head and blinked back angry tears, cursing herself for still letting it affect her so. "No. Neal was recruited to pull a job that involved stealing some high priced watches with a new crew, one I wasn't invited to be a part of. Later, I learned it was a crew who often did business with his father. They'd been ordered to bring him back into the fold now that he was eighteen. After the job, Neal told me who he really was, and that he didn't really have a choice but to follow his father's orders. I told him I didn't care. That I loved him and wanted to be with him no matter what."
Her hand shook as she reached for Killian's glass, welcoming the burn as the liquor slid down her throat. "A couple days later, a car pulls up outside the diner we would hang out at. Two men forced me inside and drove me to this big, ostentatious house where Neal's dad, R.G., was waiting for me." She polished off the drink and set the glass back down on the coffee table, her grip on Killian's hand almost painful. "He told me it was time for Neal to take his place in the family business and that he would need to surround himself with the right kind of people. I wasn't good enough for his son, and he didn't have time for Neal to come to his senses, so he offered me ten thousand dollars to disappear."
"What did you do?"
"I tore up the check and threw it back in his face," she told him, earning her a proud smile.
"That's my girl."
Emma dipped her head and pulled her lip between her teeth, his praise sending a fresh flush over her body.
"I don't imagine he took that well, though," he said somberly.
Emma's smile fell from her lips and she raised her head to meet his gaze. "No," she said. "I left and tried to contact Neal, but he was setting up a meeting with a fence about the watches. It wasn't until the next day I got a text from him, but when I showed up to the place he told me to meet him, the cops were waiting for me."
"You were set up," Killian deduced. "For the watches."
"I never knew for certain whether Neal was in on it or not, but it didn't matter. Either he knew what his father had done, or had chosen to believe his father over me when he was told I took the money." Her head fell once more, her voice tightening as she professed. "As far as Neal was concerned, I wasn't worth fighting for."
Killian's fingers slipped beneath her chin and prompted her to look up at him. "A man unwilling to fight for what he wants, deserves what he gets," he snarled in contempt. "And make no mistake, love. Neal Gold will most assuredly get what he deserves."
"Killian, you can't-"
He pressed his fingers against her lips, all evidence of his anger being concealed behind his disarming smile and charming lilt. "I promise to be a good boy," he said. "Besides," his fingers slowly trailed across her lips as his hand moved along her jaw, grazing her neck as he buried his fingers in her hair and cupped the side of her face, stealing her breath as his gaze darkened ever so slightly, "given the way he was looking at you, and the way he responded to our being together, wouldn't we rather torture him by showing him what he's been missing?"
She couldn't help the eye roll she gave at his wicked smirk and dancing brows, laughing along with his chuckle as she playfully shoved him back. "What a sacrifice you're willing to make," she deadpanned, "letting me fawn all over you just to make my ex jealous."
"I'm nothing if not a team player," Killian extolled, placing a hand over his chest to emphasize his sincerity.
"Yeah, well," Emma said, getting up from the couch and heading towards the bedroom. "We have more important things to concern ourselves with than Neal Cassidy."
"I thought you'd never ask," Killian said, springing from the couch and following her into the bedroom.
Spinning around, Emma braced her hands against his chest while remaining just out of reach of his lips seeking hers. "I meant," she clarified, "getting ready for dinner and accomplishing what we need to in order to find your rat and get Liam to… wait." Killian relented his pursuit and stepped back. "What did Liam say earlier when he called?"
Scratching behind his ear, he responded, "He wanted to talk about the call you had with your brother. I, uh… I think he's convinced you haven't set out to betray us, but he did say we should plan to stay away until he gives the all clear."
"Did he rescind his order?" Emma asked, though she already knew the answer from the way he was avoiding her gaze.
"Not as much," he confessed, "But he made no further mention of it either." Looking up at her, he drew in a deep breath and conceded, "So, perhaps you're right. We should both get dressed for dinner and focus our endeavors away from Neal and back onto the matter of clearing you of suspicion with my brother."
He gestured towards the bathroom, offering her use of it first and agreeing to get dressed in the other room. Before he left, though, she could have sworn she heard him muttering something about the casino's security and how fortunate the man was that Killian could not take a gun down to dinner with him.
~/~
There was an audible shift in the buzz filling the casino restaurant when Killian entered, following the hostess to the table he'd reserved for himself and Emma. A veritable who's who of the underworld was already present and had no doubt noted his arrival, murmuring about his recent entanglement with local law enforcement with conjectures of whether or not he was guilty of the crime, despite the planted evidence leading the police in another direction.
Of course, it wasn't the murder he was being judged on, it was the carelessness with which the matter had been handled. Regardless of the fact he had not been the one to dump the man's body so unceremoniously in a place it was sure to be found, the responsibility for the fallout was his alone, and if there was one thing organizations like his prided themselves on, it was discretion and prudence. Without it, disaster was sure to follow, and no one in this room was immune to the scrutiny such lapses could bring, not only to those at the center of the potential calamity, but to everyone who associated with them as well. Which was why Killian had been eager to come downstairs, so he might talk shop and alleviate concerns with a few associates while Emma finished getting ready.
Another shift in the drone of the dining room occurred whilst Killian was conversing with his usual money launderer, negotiating terms on a sum the family needed cleaned while they had the cover of the casino's event to funnel the cash through. He followed the man's eyes towards the front of the room and his (along with several other men's) mouth dropped when he spotted Emma. Dressed in a tight black leather mini dress that accentuated her curves and showed off the creamy expanse of her legs, it's only modest component was the high neckline that left Killian desperate for a glimpse of what he knew lay beneath. Less-than-chivalrous gazes tracked her movement through the tables as she made her way towards him, and Killian could no more stop the smug twitch at his lips any more than he could the twitch in his pants when it became clear to everyone in the room just who the blonde goddess was here with.
"Swan," he greeted, leaning in so she could place a kiss at the corner of his mouth, before he turned back to his associate. "Perhaps we can finish this later?"
"Of course, Mr. Jones," the man said, nodding politely in Emma's direction before excusing himself.
Pulling out Emma's seat, Killian whispered into her ear, "You cut quite the figure in that dress, love."
A smile graced her lips and her eyes coyly flicked to his as he took the seat next to hers. "You should see the one I plan to wear tomorrow night."
"Lord help me," he muttered, picking up his menu and shifting in his seat as Emma hid her broadening smile behind her own menu.
Once the wine had been poured and their orders were placed, Killian took the opportunity to point out all the key players. She, of course, recognized R.G. and Neal, both seemingly caught off guard by her presence for two entirely different reasons. He wouldn't deny the amount of pleasure it gave him to see Neal's face growing more mottled and thunderous each time Killian brought Emma's hand up to brush a kiss over her knuckles or whenever she applied a casual touch both above and below the table in his direction, even if such tactics were tormenting him just as much.
"Gold and his bride, Belle, haven't been married terribly long," Killian relayed to Emma over their meal. "Word is she's still blissfully unaware of just how much of a beast her husband is. Views the grey of our world with rose-colored glasses, so you can likely use her naivete against her."
"What about the woman Neal's with?" Emma asked.
Killian tamped down the insecurities her question raised within him, a part of him still concerned she might have lingering feelings for the man. He gripped his fork a bit tighter, unaccustomed to such reactions and took solace in the fact she seemed apathetic towards the woman except in whatever way she might prove useful.
"I've never seen her before," Killian informed her. "Her name is Tamara, that much Hyde was able to discover when I set him the task of acquiring a guest list upon our arrival. I sent her name and a picture of her to Rob to see if he can dig anything up."
Switching his focus from the Gold table to the one the Mills ladies were currently occupying, Killian continued. "Cora Mills, widow of the late Henry Mills, and her daughters Regina and Kelly. You'll not want to waste time cozying up to either Cora or Regina, both are too savvy and ," he leaned over, offering a bite from his plate and momentarily losing his train of thought when she wrapped her red painted lips around his fork, slowly pulling the morsel into her mouth with a knowing glint shining from her eyes which had him clearing his throat as he tried to stay on task, continuing in a strained tone, "although Regina is the younger sister, she's the one being groomed to take over the business, and it's no secret that Kelly feels slighted by that. Her jealousy could make for an easy opening."
"You know…" Emma drawled, toying with the bits of her meal remaining on her plate. "I'm starting to wonder just how close a relationship you have with some of these people, seeing as how you know so many personal details."
"I assure you, darling," Killian said, huskily. "I have not mixed business with pleasure, nor do I wish to do so, with anyone in this room… save for you."
Her posture stiffened, eyes dropping back down to the table as she reached for her wine, taking a large swallow of it. Killian cursed himself for perhaps taking things too far. It was no secret that an undercurrent of desire flowed between them, but Swan had made it clear she wanted to keep things just business. There was no reason to believe her opinion on the matter had changed, even with the shift that seemed to have taken place on his yacht and again in their suite. Things between him and Swan were changing, but her circumstances with his family had not. As much as he'd love nothing more than to take her back to their suite and have her on every available surface, Killian knew it would only complicate matters further.
It was going to be hard enough saying goodbye to her. If they failed in their endeavors she would have to leave town, disappear forever, and even though he would know her identity, he would never be able to risk contacting her. If successful, the likelihood of her sticking around and becoming even more entrenched in his family's affairs, especially with whatever fallout the exposure of their rat brought with it, seemed unlikely. No. His time with Emma was fleeting, and he should focus on using it for finding the rat and clearing her ledger with the Joneses so she had her best chance at the life she wanted once their arrangement was settled.
Killian pointed out a few more notables within the room, some she already had knowledge of through the files he'd given her. The shift back to business relaxed her once more and by the time Jefferson stopped by their table to conduct a bit of his own, she was fully immersed back into her role, her fingers playing with the back of his hairline and sending ripples of raised flesh down his back.
"Good evening," Jefferson greeted, giving a silent gesture of inquiry of whether he could join them. Killian invited him to take a seat. "I heard you wanted to ask me about Nottingham's statements the other night," he said in a low murmur. "About Berkley?"
"Aye," Killian replied, leaning forward and keeping his voice hushed as well. "Nottingham implied he was in a spot of trouble due to some business with one of the Mills' men."
"Claude," Jefferson supplied. "From what I have been able to gather, they knew each other way back. Used to run a small crew that pulled jobs all along the coastal cities, including Storybrooke. But that was..." the man shrugged and did a quick estimation in his head, "a decade ago? At some point, Claude got in with the Mills. Security for one of the daughters, I believe, and Berkley's been freelance."
"Freelance doing what?" Emma asked. "What's his specialty?"
Jefferson shifted in his seat and held his breath in a moment of consideration. Killian knew Jefferson valued discretion, he wouldn't be able to stay in business without it, so he would be wary about how much information to disclose regarding a client or associate.
Releasing the breath in a resolved sounding huff, Jefferson answered, "Retrieval. He's one of the best safe crackers and security systems hackers I know. If you need someone on your crew to get you inside somewhere, or you need someone to… liberate something from a safe, he's your man."
"Can you get me a list of his other known associates? Anyone he's worked with in recent years?" Emma asked.
Jefferson's eyes darted to Killian's, an expression of startled pleading pulling at his features. "Seriously? You know I can't-"
"I will make it worth your while," Killian promised. "You don't have to break confidences. Just provide us with a list of those persons whom it is common knowledge within your circles that Berkley has done business or has an association with."
"Giving you such a list makes me rather irrelevant," Jefferson argued. "If I tell you who the players are and their areas of expertise, then what do you need me for?"
"You won't be giving the list to me," Killian countered. "You'll be giving it to her, and once she's done with it, no one else will ever see it."
Jefferson drummed his fingers on the table, knowing it wasn't really a request he could refuse. No one told a Jones no, and everyone knew they paid loyalty handsomely.
"Fine," Jefferson relented. "I'll have the list for you before you head back to Storybrooke."
"What about known associates of the other families?" Emma inquired hesitantly, snapping both Killian's and Jefferson's heads in her direction. "Not those actually working for the organizations, just… people like you. Freelancers. Can you get me a list of those people as well?"
Jefferson's eyes flicked back to Killian's and for the first time in their association Killian thought the man might start asking questions. The hard look Killian gave him seemed to deter him, however. Pursing his lips, Jefferson shook his head then looked back at Swan, "I can't tell you anything concrete about the Gold's or Pendragon's associates," he said. "I don't do business with them personally and any list I gave you would be based on rumor. But…" he sighed and glanced over his shoulder towards the Mills table. "I can get you some names of people I know have done jobs or worked on the Mills behalf without actually being tied to their organization."
"I'll take whatever you can give me," Emma said. "Even if it's rumor."
"I want double my usual fee," Jefferson told Killian. "I'm taking a huge risk here."
"Aye," Killian acknowledged. "And it will be rewarded, I assure you."
"Right," Jefferson replied, letting out one last huff before excusing himself from the table. "I'll be in touch."
Killian picked up Emma's hand and kissed the pulse point of her wrist. "A bloody marvel you are," he praised, noting the pink tint coloring her cheeks. "You're thinking you might find a connection between the Mills' rat and someone within my employ, correct?"
"Yeah," she replied, taking another sip and finishing her wine. "Though, given the incestous nature of this business, I might end up with a lot of empty leads. I imagine there will be crossover, seeing as Claude was in the game a long time, but it's a start."
"Aye. It's a start," Killian murmured. "However, I think that is enough intrigue for one night." Setting his napkin beside his plate, he stood then assisted Emma out of her seat.
As she took his proffered arm and let him lead her from the restaurant back towards their suite, she asked, "What about the Pendragons. We never did discuss them."
"They aren't here yet," he informed her. "They'll likely turn up tomorrow. I'll point them out to you at the event."
It was a tense thing, both of them getting ready for bed that evening. While Emma occupied the bathroom with her nighttime routine, Killian stripped off his suit and slipped into the king sized bed in nothing more than his boxer briefs. If he were a true gentleman he would have slept on the sofa, honoring her wish to remain professional and protecting the fragility of whatever it was developing between them. The couch would also provide him a measure of protection as well, keeping hidden that which might prompt him to have to reciprocate the opening of old wounds should she spy the marks his past had left upon his back. A reciprocation he knew he would have to make good on at some point, knowing she was not likely to forget, even if she never pressed him for it, but one he owed her… and perhaps even himself.
But not tonight.
When Emma exited the bathroom she didn't say a word about the sleeping arrangements. Pulling back the covers, she crawled into bed then immediately settled onto her side with her back facing him. Killian reached over and turned out the light, punching at his pillow as he tried to find a comfortable position. Comfort, however, was not something he'd experienced for most of the evening, and seeing Emma in her silky sleep shorts and matching tank top before she'd hidden her body away beneath the covers hadn't helped matters. Between them lay a palpable tension that had become so tangible it was as if a third entity had joined them in bed, and before Killian finally, fitfully fell into sleep the last conscious thought he had was that this woman would surely be the death of him.