“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. Hismom 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.
Red didn’t fill the silence with chatter and Kit only realized he’d dozed off when he heard the whirr of the gates opening at the Evergreen Wolves clubhouse. He sat up, blinking as he realized they were home. It was more home than anything else was. Even the condo was just somewhere he crashed to get away from Tony.
Almost before the SUV stopped in front of the clubhouse, Red was out of the door and round to Kit’s side of the car. He opened the door and hauled Kit out.
“I can stand,” Kit snapped, even if he wobbled a little, the shots he’d downed earlier making their presence known. Hewasn’t drunk, but he had been on the way. He would have danced and fucked it off if he’d been given the chance.
Red narrowed his eyes, but Kit shrugged off Red’s grip on him and stomped into the house, heading for his bedroom to shower off the sweat and dirt. He was sticky all down his front. It was gross.
The bodyguard didn’t follow him into the house, and Kit told himself that was fine. More than fine. He didn’t need Red’s intense gaze tracking every move he made like a silent command. He didn’t need to feel seen in that particular way—exposed and wanting. Dammit, he’d clearly had more shots than he thought if he was brooding over Red Baxter.
Kit kicked off his boots and shrugged off his jacket, his pulse quickening as he headed for the bathroom. He could indulge his teenage fantasies now, the ones he’d tried to smother under layers of rebellion and noise. The ones he’d kept hidden from everyone because they always started with Red walking in while he was in the shower… pinning him against the tiles… that voice rough with command, that body molding against him. Kit had been a teenager, but he knew what he wanted. Except it had been just that, a fantasy. He was a kid and Red had barely looked at him.
Kit swallowed hard, shoving the thought aside as he tugged his shirt over his head and let it fall to the floor. He started the shower, waiting until the steam obscured everything behind the glass shower door before he stripped off the rest of his clothes, his head still whirling from the fact Red Baxter had slammed back into his life. Older yes, but even more sexy than he was when he first rode up to the clubhouse over a decade ago. Hard body beneath his leather. Kit had lain beneath it this evening and he wanted more. The way he looked at Kit like he knew exactly what he was—knew, and didn’t judge.
Kit stepped into the stall and let the hot water slam into his skin. A moan slipped from his lips before he could stop it, low and shameless. The heat poured over him, down his neck, over his chest, pooling at his feet—and still, it wasn’t enough to wash away the ache Red had ignited in him with one look.
Bracing his hands on the wall, Kit let his head fall forward and closed his eyes. Red wasn’t going to walk in. But God, Kit wished he would.
“Kit, where the hell are you?”
Unseen by his older brother from his window seat in his bedroom, Kit flipped him off. Damn, he thought he’d have more time to process what had just happened before anyone came looking for him. Kit wrapped his arms around the soft, well-worn hoodie he’d tugged on after his shower, and leaned against the wall. He just wasn’t ready for Tony’s disapproval.
Kit waited for his brother to stomp up the stairs. He knew Tony couldn’t leave it be until tomorrow. He wasn’t that kind of guy. Tony was just like their dad, in looks and mannerisms. Kit took after their mom.
“Deal with it now before it becomes an explosion.”
That had been his dad’s motto for everything. He had a point. Kit preferred to run away from the problems and look where that got him.
