Chapter 7
“I was stalking you. Do you mind?”
Mercifully, they didn’t make Kit order his own drink. Kit lurked by the counter, trying not to squirm or shift his weight or even breathe too forcefully. Every tiny movement shifted the plug against his prostate.
Kit’s fists tightened in his baggy pockets. His sweatshirt was zipped all the way to his neck, even though it was too warm. The tips of his ears were so hot, they must look sunburned.
Ladybug Brews wasn’t busy at this hour of the afternoon. Too early for students, too late for people with real jobs. Which meant that there weren’t many witnesses to Kit’s discomposure—but the cafe was quiet enough that any whimpers would be clear.
Kit didn’t want to be caught. He only liked being humiliated by specific bad-idea individuals.
James ordered, while Holden waited beside Kit. “Maybe we should take these to go,” Holden said, casting an appreciative look at Kit. “Much as I’d love to watch you squirm around on a chair.”
Kit glanced around, but nobody could have heard. “Yeah, I planned to just stand next to the table like a weirdo. Yes, we’re getting these to go.”
Holden grinned.
This was just like the last time they were here. When Holden oh so coincidentally appeared in line behind Kit. And then Kit saw a camera flash and panicked for no reason. Just a dad taking a photo of his toddler.
Except Kit wasn’t panicking for no reason. The camera flash had been a red herring, but Kit’s instincts were finely tuned to danger. He just hadn’t realized what really set him on edge.
“What are you thinking about, sweetheart?” Holden asked.
“Last time we were here,” Kit said quietly. “That wasn’t a coincidence.”
“Nope,” Holden confirmed, unabashed. “I was stalking you. Do you mind?”
“Fucking freak,” Kit muttered. Then he covered his mouth on a whimper, as Holden tugged him closer to plant a kiss on top of his head.
Kit should mind. But if he really minded, he wouldn’t be on a coffee date with two murderers. With a plug twisting his nerves and weakening his knees.
So much for his list of Normal Things to Do.
Kit flipped the page, then flattened the notebook face-down on the scanner. “I really thought you were kidding about making me file papers forever.”
Bishop’s home office was surprisingly cramped, given the comfort of the rest of the house.
There was an equally surprising lack of secret files.
Kit was pretty sure that meant one of the walls was fake, but he hadn’t decided which one.
He wanted to have a good guess before he asked Bishop to confirm.
Today, Bishop sat behind his desk, flipping through one of Holden’s murder scrapbooks. Kit sat across from him, methodically scanning another.
For all Darius’s noise about wanting to read them, he had only flipped through a few binders and notebooks. James just asked for any information on his family.
Bishop alone had the patience to go through all of them, and he was still making Kit do all the scanning.
“We’re not filing papers,” Bishop said calmly. “We’re digitizing archives.”
Kit pushed a button, then grabbed his coffee mug. At least Bishop kept him caffeinated through the struggle. “Fancy words for scanning a billion fucking binders.”
A small smile tugged Bishop’s lips as he returned to his reading.
“What are you smirking about?” Kit demanded, though he didn’t expect an answer. Bishop would just smirk again, acting all handsome and mysterious with his stupid blue eyes, and—
“I thought you weren’t going to flirt with me anymore,” Bishop said.
Kit’s jaw dropped. “I’m not flirting! This is whining. Complaining. How is this flirting?”
Bishop flipped a page. “Apologies if I’m mistaken.”
Fucking hell. Kit obviously wasn’t flirting. He was just acting like a complete brat, a little lighthearted whining, because he wanted Bishop’s attention...
Oops.
Kit turned to the next page. “Apology accepted. You wish I was flirting with you.”
Bishop’s reply hit below the belt. “I’m glad you feel comfortable with me.”
That light tone, with earnestness beneath. Kit hated and craved it at the same time. “You’re the worst.”
Bishop just kept reading with that same small grin. Kit continued scanning in silence, trying not to move too much in his chair. His ass still ached from visiting Darius the night before. A good, distracting soreness.
Not as distracting as wearing the plug at the coffee shop. But Kit could imagine wearing one now. He could have pushed it in before leaving James’s place. Or James would have been happy to shove it in for him.
Or Darius could have plugged him last night, leaving him filthy and full of cum all goddamn day. Bishop would be none the wiser.
Kit yanked himself from the fantasy. No fucking way. Bishop would absolutely notice, and accidental flirting was one thing. Wearing a butt plug for file scanning would be a clear violation of their “we’re not a thing” arrangement.
“What’s your take on these?” Kit asked.
“Your new boyfriend is bad news,” Bishop answered immediately.
“Same as my other boyfriends.” Kit froze, then pointed in warning. “Don’t tell Holden he’s my boyfriend yet.”
“You really don’t have to worry about that.” Bishop set the binder aside. “These are more interesting than I expected. I thought they would just be edgelord scrapbooks. But Holden has a knack for seeing connections.”
Yeah, Kit could see that. It had taken Holden all of two weeks to figure out Dad’s identity. “He says he organizes them based on how interesting they are.”
Bishop handed over one of the already-scanned books—a spiral-bound notebook with rainbow unicorns frolicking on the cover.
“These are seven unsolved cases covering multiple counties. Three of them are known to be the same killer. Two of them are ones the cops suspect are related but have never made public. And the other two have never been linked. They’re burglaries, not murders.
But I’m very curious to investigate them now. ”
“James thinks he could be useful too,” Kit said, skimming the first few pages.
“I wouldn’t go that far. I think he’s running on pure instinct, and that’s fucking dangerous.” Bishop stood, rolling his neck to the side. “Are you done with that?”
Kit relinquished the empty coffee mug. “Refill, please. Extra sugar.”
“If you brush your teeth after,” Bishop warned, but took the mug and left.
Before Kit could resume scanning, his phone buzzed.
Sexy: Hey babe, you cool with staying with Bishop or Darius next week? Something’s come up
Kit: “something” ??
Kit: be specific
Kit: if you’re planning something stupid, babe, i want in
James’s reply came immediately, but it was only a string of hearts and laughing emojis. Eyes narrowing, Kit pulled his legs up onto the office chair. James was clearly buying time while he figured out what to say.
Kit: it’s been five seconds. i’m getting suspicious
Another laughing emoji followed. Extremely suspicious.
Sexy: It’s nothing stupid, and nothing to worry about :)
Sexy: There’s a woman I’ve been watching, and she’s going on vacation
Sexy: Which means it’s the perfect time to abduct her, since her office won’t miss her for two weeks
Indignation burned hot and fast. Kit glared at his phone screen, trying to sort out his messy reactions. This was probably related to James’s hunt for his family’s killer. That was the sensible explanation. But Kit couldn’t help imagining James’s hand around a woman’s throat.
Pressing a chloroformed handkerchief to her face. Her helpless body slumping against James.
Strong hands closing handcuffs around her slack wrists.
Sexy: Okay, it’s been ten seconds, now I’M getting suspicious
Kit: um i kind of thought kidnapping was OUR thing
“What’s wrong?” Bishop asked from the door. He crossed the office and set the steaming mug of coffee down. “You’re frowning.”
Kit allowed Bishop to tilt his face up. The gentle touch couldn’t distract from his displeasure. “James is cheating on me.” When Bishop’s eyes widened, Kit sighed. “Not like that. Probably. He’d better not be. Do you take infidelity cases?”
“I’ll make an exception for you.” Bishop let go of Kit’s chin, patted his shoulder. A nice, soothing gesture, even as his face made a complicated what-the-fuck expression. “I don’t think investigation is necessary, though. Looks like he’s calling you.”
Swearing under his breath, Kit scrambled to answer. “Hello, this is your boyfriend speaking.”
“My precious, adorable little boyfriend,” James purred. “Are you jealous?”
Kit shifted in the chair. “I’m not jealous. Also, I’m with Bishop. If this is anything important, you should text me like a normal person. Phone calls are weird.”
“No, put it on speaker,” Bishop said, grinning. “This is riveting.”
“Fucking voyeur,” Kit muttered. But hit a button. “You’re on speaker, my beloved and faithful boyfriend who surely isn’t planning to sexily kidnap someone else.”
There was a long silence, both on the phone and in the office. The only movement was the steam wafting from the pastel coffee mug.
Then Bishop snorted laughter.
James said, sounding stunned, “You know kidnappings usually aren’t sexy, right? This is definitely the unsexy kind.”
Right, sure. That was how the kidnappings all started. But Kit would allow James a chance to explain, because first, communication was important in a healthy relationship.
And second, Kit was aware he was being unreasonable.
He couldn’t help it. Liking people was unreasonable. Trusting people was unreasonable. Kit indulged his most irrational impulses with James, Darius, Holden, and even Bishop, because he felt safe with them. They were all kind of fucked up, and that was okay.
“Her name is Melissa Vespers,” James said over the phone. “She’s not my type, and more importantly, she’s going to give me information about the Rat King. Whether she wants to tell me or not.”
Kit exhaled, feeling strangely reassured. The certainty in James’s voice was addictive. There was an undercurrent of joy to the hatred.
James wasn’t lost, like that day he got drunk on his sister’s birthday. The next step was clear before him.
“I suppose that’s all right,” Kit said lightly, because he wasn’t about to dig deep into James’s emotions. Not with Bishop listening. “I just wanted to check in.”
“Check in all you want.” James’s grin was clear in his voice. “I like you jealous. Hey, maybe we can get matching chips in our necks, so we can both track each—”
“Okay,” Bishop cut in. He nudged the coffee towards Kit.
“Some of us actually work when we say we’re at work.
Save the phone sex for after hours.” Bishop glanced aside, brow creasing.
His next words weren’t as lighthearted. “You should come over and talk tonight. I’d feel better if you had backup for this one. ”
During the hesitation, Kit sipped the hot, oversweet coffee twice, then set it down.
“I’d feel better with backup for this one too,” James said eventually. “I’m going to loop Darius in if he’s free.”
Bishop’s subtle relaxation was the only sign that he’d been tense in the first place. “Great. I’ll order pizza.”
“Perfect, see you tonight.” The grin returned to James’s voice. “Now, I should get some work done, because some of us actually work. But first I need to clarify something with Kit.”
Kit picked at a frayed hole in his jeans. “Clarify away.”
“So, you’re allowed to get kidnapped by Darius and Holden and Bishop,” James pointed out. “But I’m not allowed to kidnap anyone else?”
“It’s okay if it isn’t sexy,” Kit said—then remembered Bishop was there. His face heated. “Uh. But yeah, that pretty much sums it up.”
James sighed happily, the sound sinking directly into Kit’s hindbrain. “You’re my favorite little hypocrite. Bye, love you.”
He hung up, thwarting Kit’s attempt to hang up on him first.
Kit set the phone aside, picked up the current binder, and flipped to the next page to scan. “Well, back to work,” he said, avoiding eye contact.
Bishop chuckled and returned to his chair. The desk between them felt very small. “You might not believe this, but you’ve been good for James.”
“Of course I believe it,” Kit said loftily.
But the words still tasted even sweeter than the over-sugared coffee.
Framed by the steep-angled evening sunlight, Bishop contemplated the mug on his kitchen counter.
It was the rainbow ACAB mug Kit gave him. The replacement for the one Kit broke during his panic attack, not five feet from where Bishop stood now. Maybe Bishop wouldn’t have doubted his plan, if he’d used any other mug today.
There were sterile, opaque plastic bags in the drawer to his left. The plan was to seal the mug, then hide it under the sink until Kit left this evening. Then Bishop would send a DNA sample to someone who owed him a favor.
If Kit’s father was in the system, a familial DNA search should lead right to him.
But Bishop picked this mug when he made coffee for Kit. Maybe subconsciously he wanted to make this more difficult.
What would change if Bishop learned Kit’s name? Where he came from?
Learning the truth wouldn’t change whatever Kit had been through. It wouldn’t change that all of them needed to be careful, if they wanted to keep their freedom and pursue their goals.
All Bishop would gain was another name for his list, in exchange for Kit’s hurt fury.
And Bishop would lose the small moments he was selfish enough to treasure. No more flirtation over scans. No more sly little nudges, no more subconscious temptations. Kit probably didn’t even realize the way his body subtly turned, angling towards Bishop every time Bishop moved around the room.
Bishop wanted to kiss him again.
So much for keeping his distance. So much for not being compromised.
From the living room, Kit called out, “James says he’s on his way.”
“Thanks,” Bishop called back, and moved, like Kit’s voice unlocked his frozen limbs. He rinsed the mug under the faucet, water pouring cold over his fingers, and set it in the sink.
Bishop could always grab a sample another day. Now, it was time to plan a kidnapping.