Chapter 10
Chapter Ten
KIT
Kit stared at Mo. Evergreen Wolves clubhouse was gone? His home? Up to now he’d been able to pretend this was some mistake and everyone was overreacting. But now? The clubhouse had been part of his entire life, and someone had torched it. What about his brother?
“Tony?” His voice crackled like footsteps on dried leaves. He coughed and tried again. “Is he safe?”
“He’s safe,” Mo assured him. “But I don’t know where he is.”
“Does he know about the clubhouse?”
“I don’t know,” Mo admitted. “Craig called me, so I imagine he does.”
“What about the club members?”
“They’re all safe.”
Tears prickled at the back of Kit’s eyes. He blinked furiously, not wanting to fall apart in front of a stranger. He didn’t know what to say, what to ask.
Red squeezed Kit’s shoulder. The touch was comforting and just what he needed. “Thanks for letting us know, Mo. If you find out anything else, we can discuss it tomorrow.”
Kit turned and buried his face in Red’s chest. He was too distraught to think or talk right now. Everyone was safe. His brother was safe somewhere even if Kit had no idea where he was. The club members and their families were okay too.
He knew one thing. He’d have nothing to do with the club again. He’d move across the country if he had to. His haven was gone. He could play a chaos demon when he always had a home and his brother to come back to. But now?
Kit had nothing.
Red and Mo were talking above his head, but he wasn’t paying attention. He couldn’t think of anything except the realization that nothing would be the same again.
“Kit?”
He looked up at Red’s voice. “Huh?”
“You seem lost in thought.”
His eyes were kind and Kit just wanted to burrow into him.
“I’m just tired.”
He was too tired to talk about the club and his brother.
“We’ll go to bed,” Red said. “There’s nothing you can do now.”
Kit couldn’t hold back a sob. He was adrift in the world and even Red didn’t want to be his anchor, not really. Kit had nothing to call his own.
“Come on, kid,” Red coaxed. “Sleep. You’ll feel better.”
“Can you give me my life back?” Kit muttered.
Red said nothing, which Kit guessed was his answer, and just herded him into the bedroom as if Kit were a recalcitrant sheep and Red was the determined sheepdog. Red handed him a bag. Kit peeked in and discovered a pair of grey sleep shorts and a soft navy T-shirt.
“There’s spare toothbrushes and toothpaste in the bathroom,” Red said. “Get ready for bed. I need to check in with Craig.”
“You’re not going to undress me?”
Red rolled his eyes. “I think you can do that yourself. You stripped off in front of me last night.”
Damn, so he had. Kit huffed and tugged his sweater over his head.
“I’ll be back in a moment,” Red said. “Get into bed.”
Kit hesitated, wanting to beg him to stay, but Red vanished and Kit sighed.
Five minutes later, he lay tucked up in bed like a little boy in sleep shorts and a T-shirt that wasn’t his, the covers pulled too high, the mattress too soft beneath him.
The room smelled faintly of clean cotton and woodsmoke, unfamiliar and wrong in a way that made it hard to breathe.
He stared into the darkness, listening to the quiet hum of the cabin settling around him.
Red appeared in the doorway. “Good boy. Okay, go to sleep.”
Kit sat up on his elbows. “What about you? Are you coming to bed?”
“I’ll be sleeping out here. Don’t worry, I’ll be by this door. And Mo and Ronan will be here at the first sign of trouble.”
Kit wanted to argue again. He wanted Red here, in his bed, but Red just told him to sleep. He was gonna clear up, then he’d make sure everything was locked down tight. Kit rolled his eyes. Sergeant Patrol, making the rounds again.
He tried closing his eyes. Counting breaths, then sheep.
Why the hell was he counting sheep? He didn’t even like the woolly fuckers.
Then he tried telling himself this was no different from any other night he’d spent alone.
But every time the darkness pressed in and his mind dragged him straight back to the panic room.
The steel walls and heavy doors should have made him feel better. He would be safe in there until he was rescued. Instead, it stripped away the last of his denial. Panic rooms weren’t for just in case. They were for when things had already gone wrong.
Someone out there wanted him dead. The thought curled cold in his stomach.
Kit shifted under the covers, the sheets whispering too loud in the silence.
He sucked in a deep breath and let it out slowly.
He thought he was tougher than this. A glitter demon shaking his ass at the world.
But now his world was turned upside down, he realized how weak he was.
He needed a Daddy like that kid in the club.
What was his name? Tim? Tom? Ti, that was it, Tiger.
Sleep. He’d been given an order by his Daddy. He could do that. He closed his eyes and focused on Red. He was just starting to drift when it happened.
A sound. Soft, but wrong.
Not the creak of cooling wood or the sigh of wind through the trees—this was sharper. Deliberate. A scrape, followed by a dull thump somewhere above him.
Kit’s eyes snapped open.
Was someone on the roof?
He lay frozen, heart pounding so hard it felt like it might shake the bed. He held his breath, straining to listen. Nothing. No footsteps. The cabin fell silent again, but Kit waited for the next sound.
Friend or foe?
Don’t be stupid, he told himself. Old buildings made noise. But this cabin was a new structure. Red was still up, probably moving around, Sergeant Patrol never missed a beat. Even that thought didn’t make Kit feel better.
Then it came again.
A knock.
Three soft, uneven taps, echoing faintly through the floorboards.
Kit sat up so fast the covers tangled around his legs. His pulse roared in his ears, drowning out reason. His gaze flew to the door, half-expecting it to burst open.
“Red?” he called, hating the way his voice cracked.
No answer.
The silence stretched. Too long.
The cabin creaked somewhere down the hall. Kit’s breath caught before he could stop it, his pulse spiking, every nerve suddenly awake.
This wasn’t his place. These weren’t his rules and he wasn’t in control of anything.
And Red—solid, infuriating Red—was the only thing standing between him and and the rest of the world. Where was he?
What if they’ve taken him? What if he’s hurt out there?
Kit swallowed, staring at the dark ceiling, pretending his eyes didn’t keep drifting toward the door. But he listened for footsteps. Needing to hear Red’s voice again, low and steady, telling him everything was locked, everything was handled, go to sleep, boy.
Nothing.
Kit told himself he was fine. But he wasn’t fine. He was scared.
What if I’m alone? Should I run to the panic room?
“Red.” His voice cracked as he called Red’s name. “Red.”
He had to know if Red was still here.
The door burst open. Kit nearly crawled out of his skin.
“Kit, what’s wrong?”
Red was dressed much the same as Kit, in sleep shorts and a T-shirt. He hadn’t gone away. He was safe, he hadn’t left Kit alone.
Kit rubbed his chest over his pounding heart. “I…I…can’t…sleep.”
Red came over to the bed, sitting beside Kit, but he didn’t hold him or touch him. Kit just wanted to rest his head on Red’s broad chest and let him soak up all his fears but the distance between them seemed to stretch on forever.
“What’s wrong?” Red asked.
“I was half asleep. I heard a noise.” Kit sucked in a breath. “I thought they were here.”
“It was me.” Red sounded apologetic. “I was testing the doors. I’m sorry I woke you up.”
Kit shuddered. Red didn’t touch him, his hands resting in his lap. Kit desperately needed the feel of Red’s arms around him. Why didn’t Red hold Kit like he had before?
“You should try sleeping again,” Red said.
“Please.” Kit’s voice cracked.
Kit wasn’t sure what he was asking for, but he needed more than this passive comfort. He curled against Red, pressing his forehead against Red’s shoulder, begging for something, even if he didn’t know what it was.
Red did nothing and for a moment, Kit thought he was going to pull away. Then he gently nudged Kit back onto the mattress.
“Don’t leave me,” Kit begged, reaching for him.
“I’ll stay with you until you’re asleep,” Red said, laying down next to him, still on top of the covers. “And if you wake up, just call for me. I’ll be close by.”
It wasn’t what Kit wanted. It wasn’t nearly enough. But at least he wasn’t alone. He listened to Red’s gentle breathing and matched his own: in, out, in, out. His heart rate slowed and he relaxed.
“Good boy,” Red murmured.
Surprised by the sudden praise, Kit opened his eyes, but the room was pitch black. He was sure Red’s eyes were still closed though. Kit closed his eyes again and went back to breathing in sync.
In, out, in, out.
Kit was almost asleep when Red shifted. His hand shot out and clasped Red’s wrist. “Don’t leave me.”
I thought I was tougher than this.
He didn’t want to have to admit he was scared again.
“I need to check the cabin,” Red said.
“You did that already.”
Kit felt the briefest of caresses over his hair.
“I’m here. Let me put my phone on the nightstand.” Red shifted briefly to do that, then rolled back to face Kit.
“Get under the covers,” Kit suggested.
“I won’t get under the covers. But I won’t leave.”
Kit swallowed hard. Red was drawing a clear line in the sand. He didn’t want to sleep with Kit, but he would be by his side.
“Did Craig talk about my brother?”
“He’s safe. Dominic Cook is handling his detail.”
“You’re not going to tell me where he is?”
Red huffed, warm air blowing on Kit’s cheek. “I don’t know where he is and they’re not going to tell me.”
“In other words, quit asking.”
“My only concern is you.”
Those pesky tears prickled Kit’s eyes again. If only that were true.
Kit reached out to him, then let his hand fall on the covers. Red was his bodyguard, not his Daddy. Kit needed to keep telling himself that.
He closed his eyes for what felt like the hundredth time and let himself drift off to sleep in time with Red’s breathing. He thought he felt that elusive caress of his hair again, but he might have been dreaming that.