He only knew one Red and that was from the club, although he didn’t wasn’t around much these days. Kit had oh-so-casually asked his brother why, but his brother didn’t seem to know the reason.
Kit turned to face his…what? Savior? Whatever. But itwasRed Baxter. Hot damn, he’d had the Daddy of his teen wet dreams saving his life. Why hadn’t he realized?
“Red? What are you doing here?”
“Hi, kid.”
Kit grimaced. Kid? What happened to boy?
“What are you doing here?” he demanded.
Red looked older than when Kit had last seen him, the lines more pronounced around his eyes and silver-gray strands at his temples. The man was turning into a young silver fox.
Yummy!
Kit couldn’t help the wiggle of his butt at the thought, but Red ignored the question, focusing on the grim-faced man dressed in bike leathers.
“Where’s the gunman?” Red asked.
“Outside. He met Mo.”
They shared a vicious grin which Kit took to mean it didn’t end well for the gunman.
“Was he the?—”
“Ti! Ti? Where are you?”
The yell interrupted Red’s question. A large man bulldozed his way through the crowd heading for the door. Ti shrieked and the man changed course, heading toward them, his arms outstretched.
“Daddy!” The twink leaped up and jumped into his arms.
Kit tried to ignore the tug at his heart as the Daddy enfolded his boy into a tight embrace, holding him against his heart, and talking to him as if they were the only two in the room. No one had ever been that worried if Kit lived or died.
The two men were guided away, along with the rest of the men in the club.
Kit went to stand, ready to follow them out, but Red wrapped a meaty hand around his bicep.
“You stay where you are.”
“I want to go home,” Kit snapped.
He was tired and freaked out and these men were just going to yell at him for ditching his job and his brother.
“I’ll take you home soon,” Red said. “Put your shirt on.”
I don’t wanna!
It didn’t matter what Kit wanted. He knew the routine. His night was over, and he hadn’t even gotten laid.
Still, there was Red…
The largest securityfirm in Seattle, CDR—they introduced themselves—brought him home like a runaway kid. It turned out Red worked for them—kinda. Kit furrowed his brow as he received the terse explanation, but Red didn’t expand.
“What does he need you for? We have security at the club.”
“Your brother has employed CDR for now.”
“Why?”
