Red gave a grim nod. His protection detail wasn’t there to face off with psychotic killers.
“Pull everyone else back. Leave Jace and Padraig with me. If Kit has done a runner, at least he’s not on the grounds.”
Craig looked at Tony. “Let’s go.”
“But—”
“No, times up. We’re going now.”
Red eyed Craig with growing respect. He’d always considered him to be Quinn Ryder’s sidekick, the friendlier, softer, junior partner. But this man was one that wasn’t going to be ignored.
As Craig herded him to the door, Tony said, “Red, the old pond. There’s a shack. We used to have BBQ there.”
Red’s eyes widened. “I know it.”
He grabbed his jacket, and on impulse, collected Kit’s on the hook by the door. The boy had been wearing a thin top. Unless there had been something in the bathroom to wear, he had to be frozen.
He didn’t have time to pack for Kit now. They would have to buy new clothes for him when they were well away from here.
If they got away.
Chapter Eight
KIT
Kit creptdown the steps and away across the back yard, praying that the CDR men gathered near the gate hadn’t seen his sudden flight. By the time he hit the edge of the trees, his blood pounded in his ears as he struggled to catch his breath.
Ditching Jace and bolting to the shack had been an impulse decision and one that Kit was regretting even before he surveyed the structure which was barely standing. He hadn’t thought about anything beyond the desperate need to get away. His head was full of noise. Kit couldn’t put a coherent thought together for the noise in his head.
His sole thought had been reaching the shack, his safe place when he was a kid. Kit had spent hours here after his parents were snatched away from him, trying to make sense of his life. Now he felt the same way.
Kit shivered and wrapped his arms around himself. The temperature had dropped to freezing and he was wearing a thin shirt. He hadn’t even had the sense to pick up a sweater or a jacket. He had just needed to get away from his brother, the men invading his world, even Red.
They were all trying to control him. To snatch him away from his life. No one let him make any decisions for himself. He was used to Tony controlling his life, but he could tell Tony what to do with his orders. Red was a different matter. HewantedRed to dominate him, but not his every move.
He knew they’d find him here. In the early days, Tony used to leave him to decompress for a while, then come after him with meat to BBQ in the firepit, and spend the night under the stars. In those days they had blankets in one corner of the shack. But that was years ago. Kit hadn’t been here for years. There was nothing in the shack except leaves and, Kit grimaced, animal droppings.
Kit perched on the edge of a stone by the firepit, his teeth chattering. He couldn’t stay here. The temperature was dropping rapidly. Kit was always being accused of no self-preservation. That wasn’t true. Kit wasn’t stupid. He just didn’t work the same way everyone else did.
What were the chances of him sneaking back into the club house before they discovered he had gone. If Jace had been as alert as he expected, no chance at all. If they were all looking for him, he might be able to sneak in and pick up clothes and his wallet. Kit patted his pockets. Dammit, he didn’t even have his wallet or phone. He had nothing.
He was so lost in his thoughts; he jumped as someone dropped a jacket around his shoulders and sat next to him. He hadn’t even heard the leaves crunching as three men approached him. Maybe he didn’t have a sense of self-preservation.
“Put the jacket on,” Red said.
Kit scowled. Did he have to start with an order? But Red just popped him into his jacket as if he were a small child, a boy, then tugged a beanie over his head. Kit shuddered in relief and snuggled into the warmth.
“Update Craig and tell Padraig we’ll meet him at the rear gate,” Red said to Jace.
“Will do.” Jace pulled out his phone and walked away from them.
Red waited a beat, then turned to Kit. “We need to talk about this, but not now. Hostiles are on their way here. We need to move now. You need to listen and obey. No arguments. Until we’re at the safe house. Do you understand?
Kit opened his mouth. Then shut it again. Because now was not the time for a smart-Alek remark.
Red gave one nod. “Good. Come on.” He took Kit’s hand and drew him to his feet. “Your hands are frozen.”
He didn’t let go of Kit’s hand as they loped toward the rear gate. Red kept a steady pace, one that Kit could keep up with. Then Kit stumbled, gasping as he tripped over a tree root. Red swept him up into his arms without pausing and hurried to the gate.
