Chapter 17 #2
There wasn’t a scrap of fat on his boy’s lean muscular frame.
Red remembered being once like that. He’d piled on weight in his thirties.
That’s when he had to hit the gym. If they ended up staying confined for a long time, he’d need to work out an exercise regime; for his weight and Kit’s restlessness.
Maybe he could ask Ronan to help with that.
“Go get dressed. We’ll get visitors soon enough.”
Red swatted Kit’s butt and steered him gently toward the bedroom.
Kit grumbled that they’d seen it all already so what was the issue, but he did as he was told, even giving Red a butt wiggle as he went.
Red had a feeling Kit loved pushing his Daddy’s boundaries but secretly liked being a good boy.
He’d never admit it though. No chaos demon wanted to be a good boy.
“This is the best eggs Benedict I’ve ever had,” Red said sincerely, forty-five minutes later, as he rubbed his belly. “I think you should do all the cooking from now on.”
Kit beamed at the praise. “Three dishes, remember? And all of them breakfast.”
“If the others are like this, I’ll happily eat them all the time.”
“You know, I think you’re the first person who’s eaten my food in forever.” Kit sat back in his seat and drew one leg to his chest. “My mom always said she’d teach me to cook, but then the accident happened, and it was too late.”
“I’ll teach you to cook my dishes and you can teach me,” Red said, reaching over to place a tender kiss on Kit’s cheek. He pretended not to see the way Kit’s eyes shone brightly. “We have all the time in the world.”
“You can’t say that, Daddy. You never know what’s going to happen. Look at me now. No home, no brother, no Mom and Dad. I have nothing left. I can’t be that positive.”
He tried to tug his hand away but Red held it tighter.
“You have me. I can be positive for you, boy.”
But he caught Kit’s expression. So many emotions crossed his face. Fear. Resignation. Sorrow.
His chaos demon was crumbling under the weight of his loss.
Red reached over, picked Kit up, ignoring his startled squeak, and plopped him into his lap. Then he wrapped Kit in his arms and held him tight.
“I’ve got you,” he whispered. “I’ve got you.”
Kit held on fiercely as if he were desperate to believe that Red could be his rock for him, the one constant in his life.
Red pressed a kiss to the top of his head. No one was going to take his boy away from him. No one.
They sat like that for a long time. Red wasn’t even sure if Kit was awake, he seemed so relaxed. But Kit sat up at the knock on the door, yawning sleepily.
“It’s me,” Mo called.
“Hold on.”
Red stood, went via the panic room to check the monitor, and spotted two men at the door. He recognized Mo scowling at the camera instantly, but took a moment to place Jace.
“Stay here,” he ordered.
“Woof!” Kit didn’t bother to hide his sarcasm.
Red rolled his eyes, swatted Kit’s butt, then jogged back to unlock and open the door.
“Finally,” Mo grumbled as he stepped in, brushing snow off his shoulders. “I thought we were gonna turn into popsicles.
“You normally warn me you’re coming,” Red pointed out.
“We were on patrol when we received a message from CDR. We thought we’d deliver it in person.”
Jace followed him in, smirking at Red. “Don’t mind him. He’s only grumpy because Joseph is out of town again.”
Red raised an eyebrow. “He is?”
“Business,” Mo said shortly.
“You didn’t go with him?”
“The clients are high-end hotels Joseph’s been trying to win forever. I don’t suit the mold for his security. He wants Armani, not leather.”
Red wasn’t sure what shocked him the most. Hearing Armani come out of the mouth of a mountain man or the fact Mo had let him go.
“Mo’s sulking,” Jace said.
Mo scowled at him. “I’m not sulking.”
Jace wrapped an arm around the smaller man’s shoulders. “Yeah, you are, but it’s understandable.”
“Gerrof me or I’ll tell your wife.” Mo flung his arm away and scowled at both of them.
“Who’s taking care of your boy?” Red asked.
“CDR. Not Biker Daddy Bodyguards. If Quinn was here, I’d ask him or Craig, because they’re more civilized and they don’t let Joseph get away with pulling his crap. But Quinn is still in London. Good call, sending him there.”
“His boy needed him,” Red said simply.
“He did. Cade was about to pull out of the tour so you saved the band from a financial hit. You will get a bonus from CDR for that.”
Red furrowed his brow. “I don’t need a bonus for telling a Daddy to get his ass to his boy.”
“You know that, I know that, but Daysance management is grateful. Speaking of, where’s your boy?”
Red shrugged. “In the panic room.”
“I’m here,” Kit said. “My Daddy forgot me.”
Red held out his hand. Kit hesitated, then he wandered over, making it a point that he was doing this on his terms, not Red’s. Red tugged him in for a hug.
“Where is Craig?” Kit asked.
“I can’t tell you that,” Mo said. ‘Need to know.”
Kit grunted.
“What was the message?” Red asked to defuse the tension.
Mo looked between them. “Do you want to have this conversation here?”
“If this involves me, you’re not shutting me out. And don’t give me excuses. I need to know.” Kit flung Mo’s words back at him.
“Kit, clear the table,” Red said. His boy gave him a mutinous glare but Red continued, “Jace, please could you make coffee?”
He could give his boy an order but not a bodyguard who was probably more senior than him in the Biker Daddy Bodyguards.
“Will do,” Jace said cheerfully. “Kit, do you know where everything is because I’ve got no idea.”
Kit’s expression darkened but he muttered something incomprehensible and stomped over to the kitchen cabinets.
Red looked at Mo. “Kit has a point. He needs to know what’s going on.”
“I’m not sure he’s gonna want this information,” Mo said grimly.
“We’ll handle it together,” Red assured him.
There was a pause in the stomping and plate clacking behind him. He didn’t need to look at Kit to know he was listening closely to what Red said. But his Daddy had just said they’d deal with it together. Red hoped that eased some of his tension even for the impending bad news.
Ten minutes later, they sat at the table, four cups on the table, Kit next to Red and the other two opposite them.
Red took a slow breath. The room suddenly felt too small. “Talk to us.”
Across the table, Mo's expression was grim. Not the look of a man delivering good news. The look of a man deciding how much damage the truth was about to do.
“Well,” Mo began, rubbing a hand over his jaw, “the good news is Angel Securities finally reported back. There is no cartel or club or gang after Kit.”
For a second, nobody spoke.
Kit frowned. “What?”
“The intelligence was bad,” Mo said quietly. “All the chatter Angel Securities intercepted has been verified. Your name was never on their radar.”
Kit blinked. “But...”
He looked Mo to Jace, then to Red.
Red saw confusion give way to cautious hope.
“I don't understand,” Kit said. “Aren't they the ones who said the cartel was after me?”
“They believed it at the time.”
A nervous laugh escaped Kit. “So that's it? We're done? I can go home.” He grimaced. “Or what’s left of it.”
Nobody answered quickly enough. Kit either didn't notice or chose not to.
“Does that mean I can go home?” he asked again. “Does Tony know?”
“He knows,” Mo said.
Kit grinned. For the first time in days, he looked happy, that look of fear and confusion erased from his expression.
Red wondered if this was it. Kit would move on with his life instead of being part of Red’s. Had Red done it again? Given his heart to someone who didn’t need it now? Red wanted to rub the sudden pain in his chest.
“That's amazing.” Kit pushed back from the table. “We can rebuild the clubhouse. Tony will be freaking out. God, he's probably been blaming himself this whole time—”
“Kit.” Mo's voice cut through the excitement.
His boy’s smile faded.
Red felt his stomach drop because he knew that tone. Knew he wasn’t going to like what came next.
Kit slowly sat back down. “What?”
Mo didn’t answer immediately.
And suddenly Kit wasn't smiling anymore. “What's wrong?” he demanded.
Red saw the moment the fear returned.
Mo folded his hands on the table. “The cartel wasn't after you.”
Kit swallowed. “Okay.”
“If the cartel wasn't after you...” Mo continued carefully, “then we had to ask who torched the clubhouse.”
The silence stretched.
“Who?” Kit asked.
“We started following the money.”
Red noticed Mo’s hesitation. Watched Kit completely miss what was coming.
“It was arranged,” Mo said. “The fire. The threats. The attacks. The whole thing.”
Kit shook his head. “I don't understand.”
His voice was smaller now. Less certain.
“This entire operation,” Mo said quietly, “has been a smoke-and-mirrors exercise from the beginning.”
“By who?”
No one answered. The air seemed to disappear from the room.
Kit looked pleadingly at Red, reached out, and Red grabbed his hand and held it tight. His face had gone pale.
“Who did this?” he whispered.
Red already knew. The pieces had fallen into place the moment Mo mentioned the money. The threats. The timing. Smoke and mirrors. They’d all been played. Including him.
“It was an insurance scam,” Mo said.
Kit stared.
“A very elaborate one.”
“No.”
The word escaped Kit before Mo had even finished.
“No.”
Mo held his gaze.
“I'm sorry, Kit.”
“Who did this to me?” Kit demanded.
But by the devastated look on his face, Red was sure he already knew.
The room went silent. No one moved. No one breathed. And Red knew exactly what Mo was about to say.
“It was your brother.”