Page 28 of A Matter of Time

Detective Kage just shot him a look before he gave my arm a tug. It was different from when Kevin had pulled; I nearly came off my feet. The man had no idea how strong he was.

He wanted to steer me out of the club, but I darted over to Evan to say goodbye. When I put my hand on my friend’s shoulder, he turned around to look at me. I saw his eyes fill with Detective Kage. He didn’t even see me. I was an afterthought.

“Jesus, Jory, who’s this?” He sounded almost breathless.

I stepped sideways so I could introduce them. “Evan Rheems, this is Detective Sam Kage. Detective Kage, my buddy Evan.”

He nodded but didn’t hold out his hand. “Okay. Can we go?”

“Oh no, you can’t go,” Evan argued, reaching out, putting a hand on my wrist. “It’s my birthday. Jory and I haven’t even had our⁠—”

“He’s coming with me,” Detective Kage said flatly, and I felt his hand on the back of my neck. “So you’ll hafta do whatever you people do another time.”

“You people?” Evan looked at me, eyebrows raised, the question there in his gaze.

It felt like my right eye was twitching. “It’s not—he’s not with me, Ev. He’s⁠—”

“I’m done,” Detective Kage grumbled, and I felt his hand clench on the back of my neck. “Outside. Now.”

I leaned in and kissed Evan on the cheek, promised to call him the next day, and asked the detective to get his hand off me.

“If you walk toward the goddamn door, he barked.

I started for the exit, but a guy stepped in front of me.

“Hey.” He smiled at me. “Do you remem⁠—”

Heavy hands clamped down on my shoulders, squeezed tight. “Excuse us,” Kage said behind me.

The guy looked up from my face and saw Detective Kage. He moved out of the way, and I got shoved forward hard.

Finally out on the street, I pivoted around to face him. “What the hell was that about?”

“Why don’t you just paint a goddamn target on your chest, you fuckin’ idiot?”

I started away from him, but he grabbed my arm and swung me back around.

“Christ, can you stop manhandling me,” I snapped, twisting my arm free, annoyed.

“Sorry,” he said automatically, no sincerity at all, and shoved his hands into his pockets. “But you’re just not listening. I don’t get you.”

“Whatever.” I sighed. “Listen, I gotta eat, all right? And then I promise to go home.”

He nodded. “Fine.”

I gave him one last look and then turned to walk away.

“Wait.”

“God, what?”

“Will you stop, please?”

I stopped, but I didn’t turn around.

“I gotta eat too.”

I looked at him over my shoulder. “I’m getting breakfast. You want that?”