Chapter 2
Chapter Two
KIT
On a packed dance-floor full of sweaty, hyped, drunk men, Kit could dance his troubles away. He was an anonymous face in a crowd of men heaving and dancing to techno music.
Kit had ditched work before it broke him.
He was trying to be a grown up. Stand on his own two feet like normal people instead of relying on his brother.
But working in the call center was destroying his glittery soul.
It wasn’t hard to sneak out of work while his boss was in a meeting.
It wasn’t like it was the first time. It was probably the end of his job at Allied Seattle Insurance though.
Then there was his brother who expected him to go to the clubhouse after his day job to work the bar.
Kit had ditched him too. Kit needed more than an evening listening to the Wolves gossip.
He hadn’t been to this club before, and Tony wouldn’t expect him to head for here.
This club was new, dark corners, intimate and heavy with the smell of men here just to let go.
From the website, the club usually catered for everyone, but tonight it was men only. Perfect for what Kit had in mind.
Dripping with sweat, Kit stripped off his shirt and tucked it into his back pocket.
More than one man pressed up against him, hard cocks thrusting against his ass, hoping to find a willing hole.
But Kit wasn’t ready to find his hook-up for the evening.
There was time enough for that later. He needed to pound out the frustration coursing through his veins before someone plowed his ass.
Kit knew Tony would ream him out tomorrow for letting him down, but that was then. Tonight, he could pretend that he wasn’t slowly being crushed by his job and life. He needed more than this. Kit hated adulting with a vengeance, but he wasn’t giving up. He would need to find another job though.
Tony wanted to encase him in bubble wrap and mollycoddle him. Kit had done his level best to run. From everyone. His brother, his club, his job. And he was good at running.
Another sweaty body pressed hard against him.
“I wanna lick your snake from head to cock.”
It wasn’t the first time a man had followed his cobra from his neck to the tip of his dick, but Kit was fussy about who he allowed to do that. Fucking was one thing. Licking was way more intimate.
“Not this time,” Kit said.
“Hey!”
Someone tried to grab around his waist, but Kit slipped out of the hold, pushing through the crowd to get away. Kit hoped they’d take the hint, and he didn’t have to move on to another club, because someone didn’t understand the word no.
Gunfire!
Kit paused. Was that in the music?
Another rattle.
Then someone started screaming and people stared at each other for a moment before hitting the ground. Kit went with them.
The music kept on with its frenetic beat.
Kit raised up to take a look, but a meaty hand covered his head. “Stay down, boy.”
He found himself face down on the sticky floor, unable to move as a solid body covered his own. It was gross and sticky and Kit didn’t want to think what bodily fluids he was close to. This guy needed to get the hell off him before Kit lost the freaking will to live.
He tried to buck the man off him, but the stranger was built like a tank, and Kit could barely move a muscle.
“Let me up.”
“You stay where you are,” the man hissed in his ear. “The perp is still here.”
“How do you know,” Kit whispered.
“I can see him in the mirrors.”
A young red-haired twink next to Kit went to rise, but the stranger grabbed him too and gave him the same order.
The twink subsided but he whisper/wailed, “I’ve got to find my Daddy…friend.”
“Once this is over. Stay with us.”
Kit twitched. Who was ‘us’? There was no ‘us’.
The twink let out a sob, but before Kit could tell him to get it together, the man had Kit in one arm and the twink in the other and whispered they were both good boys.
Kit wasn’t sure about that. He wasn’t anybody’s good boy. Kit made it his life’s mission to be as bad a boy as possible, but the kid next to him looked genuinely scared and for once Kit decided not to be a brat. He reached out and clutched the twink’s hand. “I’m Kit,” he whispered. “Who are you?”
“Tiger.” The kid grimaced. “Mom hoped her son would be as strong as a tiger. Instead, she got me. Most people call me Ti.”
Kit knew what it was like to be a disappointment to the family.
“Shhh,” the man whispered, cupping Kit’s neck. “He’s coming back. Face down, quiet, boys.”
Every muscle tensed, Kit did as he was told, and Ti buried his face against the man’s shoulder, seeking comfort. Kit resisted the urge to do the same thing, but he was terrified too. He couldn’t die here. He hadn’t done anything yet.
Then it was as if the world exploded around them.
Kit held his breath as shouting, gunfire, and shattering glass erupted over his head.
He didn’t know what was worse, seeing the threat or not be able to see it coming.
Kit couldn’t see a thing. The stranger had shoved Kit’s face into the crook of his neck and wrapped his arm around his head.
It was nice, if a little sweaty and suffocating, but comforting, and frustrating at the same time.
The noise slowly subsided, but they stayed where they were because the man wasn’t letting them go anywhere.
“Everyone stay down!” A voice boomed out over their heads.
Kit noticed the man seemed to relax a fraction. Did he know that voice?
“You can let them go now, Red,” a dry voice said eventually. “The threat is neutralized.”
At freakin’ last!
Kit tried to move, but the man—Red?–kept him pinned. Then he allowed Kit and Ti to sit up slowly, but he didn’t let go of them.
Red? It can’t be him.
He only knew one Red and that was from the club, although he didn’t wasn’t around much these days. Kit had oh-so-casually asked his brother why, but his brother didn’t seem to know the reason.
Kit turned to face his…what? Savior? Whatever. But it was Red Baxter. Hot damn, he’d had the Daddy of his teen wet dreams saving his life. Why hadn’t he realized?
“Red? What are you doing here?”
“Hi, kid.”
Kit grimaced. Kid? What happened to boy?
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
Red looked older than when Kit had last seen him, the lines more pronounced around his eyes and silver-gray strands at his temples. The man was turning into a young silver fox.
Yummy!
Kit couldn’t help the wiggle of his butt at the thought, but Red ignored the question, focusing on the grim-faced man dressed in bike leathers.
“Where’s the gunman?” Red asked.
“Outside. He met Mo.”
They shared a vicious grin which Kit took to mean it didn’t end well for the gunman.
“Was he the—”
“Ti! Ti? Where are you?”
The yell interrupted Red’s question. A large man bulldozed his way through the crowd heading for the door. Ti shrieked and the man changed course, heading toward them, his arms outstretched.
“Daddy!” The twink leaped up and jumped into his arms.
Kit tried to ignore the tug at his heart as the Daddy enfolded his boy into a tight embrace, holding him against his heart, and talking to him as if they were the only two in the room. No one had ever been that worried if Kit lived or died.
The two men were guided away, along with the rest of the men in the club.
Kit went to stand, ready to follow them out, but Red wrapped a meaty hand around his bicep.
“You stay where you are.”
“I want to go home,” Kit snapped.
He was tired and freaked out and these men were just going to yell at him for ditching his job and his brother.
“I’ll take you home soon,” Red said. “Put your shirt on.”
I don’t wanna!
It didn’t matter what Kit wanted. He knew the routine. His night was over, and he hadn’t even gotten laid.
Still, there was Red…
The largest security firm in Seattle, CDR—they introduced themselves—brought him home like a runaway kid. It turned out Red worked for them—kinda. Kit furrowed his brow as he received the terse explanation, but Red didn’t expand.
“What does he need you for? We have security at the club.”
“Your brother has employed CDR for now.”
“Why?”
“Let’s get out of here,” Red said. “It’s time your brother talked to you.”
“No shit, Sherlock.”
Red’s mouth pinched but he just ushered Kit to the door.
That told Kit how serious it was. Red had never been slow to call out rudeness.
But he didn’t want to think about that yet.
It was too soon. He just wanted to hide and maybe sleep.
Maybe he could go to another city and start again.
Oooh, he could go into WITSEC and have a sexy marshal take care of him and they’d fall in love. He’d read books about that.
Kit snorted. That was fiction and this was real life.
The marshals would be like that short movie actor who was still kinda sexy but not Kit’s type.
He had a nice smile. Kit’s mom used to say you could always trust a man with a nice smile.
She’d clearly never met a serial killer or a lawyer.
His smile faded. His mom was dead, along with his dad in an accident when Kit was ten.
He didn’t know how they’d bypassed the throng of cops at the club, but he was ushered into a dark SUV, Red climbing in to take the seat next to him.
“Let’s go, Padraig,” Red said.
Kit leaned forward as the driver pulled away into the middle of the night traffic. “I’m staying at the condo on Capitol Hill.”
The driver didn’t respond.
Red shook his head. “Plans have changed now.”
“Take me home to the condo.”
The driver didn’t even acknowledge he existed. It was as if he was invisible to everyone except Red.
“Hey,” Kit said.
“Seatbelt, kid,” Red ordered.
Kit opened his mouth to argue, but he caught Red’s resolute expression and subsided. He was too damn tired to pick a fight now. He could get a car home later when the fuss died down.
Kit lived by his own rules, but with an over-protective older brother, he also knew when it was pointless to fight. He clicked the seatbelt, then stared out of the window, passing endless shuttered stores as they drove home.