“I’m plenty fun,” Red said dryly. “Look at me being fun.” He waved at the food.
Kit tapped his chin. “Well, you have thrown yourself on top of me, protected me from a rampaging boyfriend, hunted for me when I ran away, and kidnapped me and taken me into the middle of nowhere.”
“I didn’t kidnap you.”
“You gave me no choice, and you still haven’t told me where I am,” Kit pointed out. “What would you call it?”
The boy had a point. Red just shrugged. “You’ll have a bed for the night and good food. You’ll be fine.”
“In other words, you’re not going to tell me anything.”
Kit looked resigned and disgusted, but to Red’s relief, he didn’t push it. Red had clients who’d pushed for more information than was safe but then he’d just referred it upward, claiming it was above his paygrade. Now he seemed to be the top of the tree and Kit was right to look to him for answers.
It didn’t matter what Red signed up for. Everyone, from Kit to Quinn, was expecting him to take care of Kit. Just like Quinn had to face up to his responsibilities, so did Red.
He set his plate aside before he said something stupid. Or did something worse. The way Kit had moaned over a damn grilled cheese like it was an invitation should’ve been funny. Instead, it had gone straight to Red’s gut—and lower.
Focus.
He leaned back in his chair, studying Kit the way he’d learned to study threats: steady, patient, taking everything in. The bravado. The restless energy. The way the boy filled silence because he didn’t know what to do with it. He was going to have to fill that space for him, or Kit would run again.
“Eat,” Red said, keeping his voice even. “We skipped lunch.”
Kit blinked, clearly phasing out. “The day’s gone on forever. What about our clothes? I didn’t see any bags.”
“We didn’t have time to pack,” Red pointed out. “We were too busy searching for you. We picked up some basics on the way up here.”
Kit grimaced. “I’m sorry. I screwed up, didn’t I?”
Red let the silence stretch out between them, then he said, “I’m here to take care of you.”
Always will, if you’ll let me. His heart be damned.
“That’s my job.”
Something shifted. Kit hesitated, then took another bite, slower this time, eyes dropping to his plate. The obscene little noise didn’t repeat. Red counted that as a small win.
He let the silence stretch. Silence made people uncomfortable. People talked when they were uncomfortable.
Kit finally looked up. “So,” he said lightly, too lightly. “You gonna tell me the scary stuff now? Or do I earn dessert first?”
Red exhaled through his nose. “I’m not keeping things from you to be an ass.”
Kit snorted. “Debatable.”
“I’m keeping things from you because knowing too much makes you vulnerable. And you’re reckless.”
“I amnotreckless.”
Red raised an eyebrow.
Kit sighed. “Okay, fine. I’m… selectively reckless.”
Despite himself, Red felt the corner of his mouth twitch. He shut that down fast.
“You’re scared,” he said.
The word hit. Red saw it in the way Kit stiffened, the way his shoulders drew back like armor snapping into place.
