Page 94 of Wear It Like a Crown

“Computer stuff.” Leo nodded. Veering off to the right, he nudged Nate in the direction of the Thames. “However, that doesn’t explain why you had, like, some kind of military training. Unless that’s standard protocol, I don’t know. And why you’re so keen on taking the passenger seat.”

“It’s a control thing,” Nate said. “Like, I’m not traumatised or anything, and I do know how to drive, but…” His words were slower than usual, almost as slow as Joshua’s diligent way of building sentences like a child assembling bricks. “It’s just that for a while, it reminded me too much of what I used to do, so I avoided it. And now it’s been years since I was actually behind the wheel, so I feel a bit uncomfortable because of that. Still like to have a chance at interfering though, if something’s about to go wrong.”

“Go wrong how?”

“Just, um. Like, people shooting at the tyres. Chasing our car.”

“Right.” Leo coughed. “The usual.”

“I know it’s not an actual concern anymore.” Nate’s face twisted in embarrassment, and Leo wanted to kick himself.

“Sorry,” he rushed to say. “I didn’t mean to… belittle that. Honest. I’m just struggling to grasp the concept. Doing something where that’s a valid possibility, like,how?”

“I was the driver.” Nate paused for a sip of tea, steam rising as he blew across the surface. His forehead furrowed as he appeared to search for a way to continue. “The one in the background, you know? Driver doubling as a bodyguard, entering gatherings in the wake of some diplomat or some such. So easy to miss the people in the background.” There was no bitterness in his tone; he was merely stating a fact. “Allowed me to slip away and retrieve information, the kind of things that interest a government.”

Holy shit. Yeah, so that wasn’t too far from what Leo had suspected already, but hearing it confirmed still made a difference.

He let it settle for a minute while they approached Tate Modern, the brick building with its looming chimney an imposing presence against the blue sky. Leo had spent a few nights huddled underneath the footbridge that branched from the Gallery to the other side of the Thames, but he’d soon learned it was one of those spots frequently patrolled by the police. Some officers had been kinder than others.

Drinking from his tea, he sloshed warm liquid around his mouth and swallowed before he asked, “So how did you get pulled into that line of work? How does one become a hacker spy agent… thing?”

Nate snorted softly. “Wowed by your eloquence, mate.”

“As you should be.”

“Always. And as for your question…”—Nate shrugged—“I grew up—I was one of those orphan boys in the system, you know, and if you’re different, poor, no parents… Other kids can be cruel.”

At a certain point in his life, Leo might have been one of those other kids. He inched a little closer, their elbows bumping, and waited.

“Got me into martial arts,” Nate continued. “Had a bit of a knack for it, caught the eye of a scout. Seemed like the perfect opportunity to prove myself, you know? Show that I could be so much more.”

It sounded familiar—that thirst to prove someone wrong, to be better, brighter than they could have ever expected. “So what changed?” Leo asked.

Nate dropped the rest of his scone into a rubbish bin. The birch trees that framed the grass in front of Tate Modern whispered above their heads, people sprawled out on the green—such a contrast to the hesitation in Nate’s voice. “I obtained some information we’d been looking for for a while.”

“Information?” Leo prompted when Nate fell silent.

After a sip of tea, Nate gently shook his head, gaze fixed on the ground. “Location of a terrorist. Nasty piece, but when our guys got in there…” It was so quiet that Leo barely made out the words. “I didn’t hear about this until a couple weeks later, but there’d been casualties. Two kids. A wife. A servant who probably didn’t even know what the guy had done.”

Jesus.

“And it was all because of intel I dug up.” Bitter disgust shone through Nate’s statement, and Leo couldn’t tell whether it was directed at Nate’s former employers or Nate himself.

Shifting closer, Leo linked their arms. “Not your fault,” he said softly.

“It kind of is.” Nate made an aborted gesture, then rubbed a hand over his hair. “I know I’m not, like, directly responsible, yeah? But I should have realised sooner that this would happen one day. Was bloody naive, didn’t care much what they did with the information as long as I could brag about a job well done.”

“We were all young and stupid once,” was all Leo could think of, but it chased a tiny smile over Nate’s face, tense features relaxing just slightly. Leo nudged their hips together, arms still linked. Together, they stepped onto the footbridge, and Leo tugged them both to a halt, leaning his elbows on the railing to watch murky water crawl by below.

“Does Mo know?” he inquired in an undertone.

Nate’s shoulder was pressed against Leo’s, an uncommon show of vulnerability. “Bits. I’m working on it.”

“That’s…” Leo took a deep breath. “Good. That’s really good.”

For a while, neither of them spoke, staring down into the water.Eventually, Nate straightened and watched Leo take a sip of tea before he asked, “Your turn, Grammy.”

Fuck, okay. Leo could do this. Hecould. He couldn’t keep running forever, could he?