Chapter 16 #2
There was a knock at the door, slicing through the moment, and I sighed. The honeymoon period had barely begun and it was verging on being over, especially now that Derek was here. Straightening my shoulders, I took a deep breath, slipping back into the person I was outside of the house.
Kit looked at me, and I looked at him, and for once, neither of us flinched.
I moved toward the door and answered it.
Derek Uhlig had aged five years since I’d last seen him, and it had only been yesterday.
He wore a navy suit with no tie, the collar unbuttoned and the shirt underneath wrinkled at the throat.
His hair, usually combed into submission, stuck up in the back like he’d raked his fingers through it half the night.
He looked up, saw me, and his eyes did that sharp, dark scan I’d first seen when we traveled through the city—ticking off threat vectors, exits, potential witnesses—the same thing I did.
Now he only had one thing to worry about, and it was currently hiding behind me in an inside-out T-shirt, sweats that were too big for him, and bare feet.
I stepped aside, making a silent offer to let Derek in or fuck off, his choice. What had I become? The me a few weeks ago would be falling over myself to let Derek inside and fix him whatever he wanted. I was the faithful dog. Now, Kit was my owner. I growled and bit for him.
Derek stepped across the threshold, pulling at the collar of his shirt with his pointer finger.
He didn’t look at Kit right away. Instead, he scanned the rooms he could see from where he stood. Was he expecting a sniper? We didn’t hate him that much. Then, he exhaled a slow unsteady breath and let his shoulders drop.
Kit hovered at my side, clearly confused and uncertain, but when I started moving toward the kitchen, they both followed and lingered near me.
“Coffee?” I asked, not sure what else to say. Derek loved coffee, but he had the completely opposite order to Kit. He preferred no sugar and as black as his criminal soul.
Derek shook his head. “In a bit. Thank you, though.”
He looked at Kit, and the world shrank down to just the two of them. I took a step back, but Kit caught my wrist, a silent plea to not make him do this alone.
“Hi, Dad,” Kit said.
“Hi, kid.” Derek’s voice was so hoarse it sounded like gravel in a blender.
He looked at Kit for a long, brutal second, taking in every mark and every sign that he’d failed to keep his son safe.
He blinked, and I swore he was holding back tears, though I’d seen him cut a man’s finger off and never break a sweat.
Kit was the most important person to him, other than Sky, so I understood. Even monsters had weaknesses.
Kit cleared his throat. “I, uh—”
Derek raised a hand, cutting him off. “I’m not here to make you talk. I just wanted to see you. To make sure you’re . . . .” He gestured at Kit’s face, then his shirt and the way Kit was latched on to my arm. “Alive. Okay.”
Kit tensed. I wasn’t sure if it was an accusation or an observation, but I stayed still. Ready to defend my boyfriend.
“I’m fine. Better than I was.”
Derek nodded, and I saw the cracks in his armor. They were damned near invisible, but there for my trained eyes to see. “Good.”
No one said anything for a while. Even the fridge was silent, the entire townhouse holding its breath.
I busied myself with the coffee, more out of habit than need, and lined up two mugs on the counter.
Kit was still drinking his and even though Derek said he didn’t want one, he would finish it.
I’d worked with him for too many years not to know that.
I kept one hand near Kit’s back at all times, the other ready to intercept if this conversation went nuclear.
Derek finally took a seat at the kitchen table. He looked out the window, saw nothing but a gray morning drizzle, and smiled at it anyway.
“I want to apologize,” he said, the words landing like stones in wet cement. “For everything.”
Kit stared at him, disbelief etched into his face. “For which thing? There’s a lot to choose from.”
Derek nodded. “That’s fair.” He looked at his hands, knuckles white against the butcher-block. “I made choices. Some good, some . . . . You don’t have to forgive me.”
Kit looked at me, then at Derek. He drew a breath so deep it rattled. “I don’t.”
Derek nodded again, absorbing the blow like a champion. He took it better than I would’ve, but I didn’t have kids. I had no idea what it felt like to be a parent, but I knew it wouldn’t be easy.
“But I don’t want to ignore you,” Kit murmured. “You’re my dad. Even if you suck sometimes.”
Derek’s mouth twitched in a way that wasn’t quite a smile. “I do suck, don’t I?”
“Yeah,” Kit’s voice wobbled. “But you’re the only dad I’ve got.”
It would’ve been unbearably sad if Kit hadn’t immediately started blinking furiously and muttering “God, I hate feelings” under his breath. I almost laughed, and Derek must’ve felt the humor, too, because he let out a strangled chuckle.
I placed the mugs on the table and sat down beside Kit, close enough that our knees touched.
Derek took a sip. “This is terrible,” he said, but he drank it anyway.
“Just because I know your order doesn’t mean I’m good at making it. There’s a reason we get coffee from Sugar Bean,” I reminded him.
Derek smiled, a fondness for all the years we’d worked together filling the space between us. We’d been through a lot and nothing he did changed the fact that he’d saved me from myself. Then, he looked at Kit and back to me, a question forming. “So. Is this really happening?”
Kit glanced at me, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but I didn’t flinch. “If he’ll have me,” Kit said, trying for casual and landing somewhere between hope and terror.
I spoke without hesitation. “I will. I love you.”
Derek processed that. The heartbreak was obvious, but he didn’t argue. He just nodded, slow and resigned. “Then, that’s what’s happening. I respect your relationship.”
Relief swept over Kit’s face.
Silence stretched before Derek broke the moment. “Have you heard from your brother?”
Kit nodded. “He says he’s fine. He sounds. . . happy, which is weird. He says the Sabbatinis are taking care of him.” His eyebrows dipped. “Which concerns me. But he promised to keep me updated so I know he’s okay.”
“Good. Good.” He actually sounded relieved. I supposed Sky was still son, even if he was furious with him. Derek cleared his throat. “There’s one more thing.”
I went on high alert. “What?”
He gestured toward the closed front door. “Leland’s in the car. He didn’t want to come in, but I thought—” He shook his head. “He wanted to apologize in person. He means it. I’m not making excuses, but he needed the money. His dad—” He rubbed his forehead. “Just listen to him.”
Kit looked at me, jaw clenched. “You think I should?”
I shrugged and took a sip of my coffee, then winced. I couldn’t even make mine well. “Up to you.”
Kit inhaled, preparing himself. “Fine. Tell him to come in.”
Derek stood and went to the door. There was a quiet exchange outside—Derek’s calm, low timbre and Leland’s higher, anxious reply—then Leland stepped in, his mouth twisted into a deep sadness I didn’t expect to see on the gentle giant.
He wore a rumpled hoodie and clutched his phone like a lifeline.
He saw Kit, and his whole face twisted up with regret.
“Kit,” he said, voice small for a big man.
Kit didn’t answer.
Leland took a step forward, then stopped.
“I’m sorry,” he said, hands shaking. “I was supposed to look out for you. I never wanted to hurt you, man. I just—” His gaze shot to me, then to Derek, and then back to Kit.
Heartbreak and terror mixed together in those big blue eyes, and sympathy struck me.
He was young, too, and naive. Despite working for Derek, he’d been thrust into this world because of a gambling addicted father and a mountain of debt.
“You were my only real friend here. Ever. I’ll tell you everything.
Why I needed the money. My dad, he’s an addict.
He got caught up with the wrong crowd and I know I didn’t tell you before, but Kit, I needed the money so bad.
I had to feed Anya. You remember Anya, my little sister.
Dad kept spending our money and—” A sob ripped from him, giving him a chance to breathe after that speed talk that left him winded and shaking.
Kit’s expression softened. In his heart, he’d always be a gentle soul, and I knew for a fact that Leland had been a good friend to him. The best, despite the spying and reporting to Derek.
“I miss you,” Leland said, and this time he didn’t bother to stop the tears. “It fucking sucked not talking to you, dude. And you blocked me.”
Kit stayed silent for a full ten seconds. Then, very quietly, he said, “Me too.”
Leland let out a shaky breath and wiped his face on his sleeve. “I won’t do it again. Ever. I mean, work for—” He flicked his eyes at Derek. “—him. Not if it means losing you. Swear on my life.”
Kit shrugged, suddenly sheepish. “I don’t need you to swear. Just don’t lie to me, okay?”
Leland nodded, grateful. “Never again.”
There was another long, messy pause, and then Kit said, “Do you want coffee?”
Leland glanced at the table, then back to Kit. “I’d love some.”
I poured him a cup even though I was sure he never drank it, either. There was a reason they were friends. The peace was awkward, but it was peace.
Kit took a deep breath, then fixed his gaze on Derek. “There’s one more thing.”
Derek raised an eyebrow.
“I know you asked if this was happening, but I want to be clear. I’m with War.” Kit raised his chin, defiance flashing in his gaze. “Like, officially. So, you need to accept that or stay out of it.”