Page 19 of Eight of Swords, Part Two

‘I had it,’ Kade whines, lips wet with blood, head swimming in iridescent treacle. ‘I was so close, I… I saw everything, but I… can’t remember.’

‘Doesn’t matter.’ Lachlan pulls Kade into his arms. Kade doesn’t even think to protest. He’s weightless in the embrace of another. Safe and held. ‘Just want you to be OK, sweetheart.’

Sweetheart.

‘I’m sorry.’

‘No, this is all my fault. Everything.’

It’s not, though. It’s actually not.

And he knows that now from what Riley told him last night.

But Kade can’t find the words to tell him that.

All his certainty and understanding have gone away. They left behind a shadow cast by mountainous grief he cannot scale, blurred beyond recall. To know you knew something and be without it is a strange way to suffer.

The wind rustles leaves around his boots.

The wet sun is shining.

Before Kade even has a chance to feel embarrassed, Riley comes to stand beside Lachlan and says to him, ‘We need to talk.’

CHAPTER THREE

All three sit together in the mess hall.

It’s rare for Riley to spend any amount of time in here, even more so to see him actually eat here because Riley is a notoriously selective eater.

‘So, like,’ Lachlan asks, shovelling bacon, eggs and sausages into his mouth and barely chewing before swallowing, ‘what is this place? What do you do? Your old man was a suppressor,’ he says just as Riley opens his mouth to speak. ‘I know that. Back then, Iron Star was muscle for hire, and your old man was the backbone of a tough-as-nails outfit.’ The former bodyguard drains an entire glass of water in one go. ‘But the place is so different now and not just upgraded security.’ He sets the empty glass down carelessly, wiping his mouth. ‘You don’t seem like a suppressor to me.’

Riley watches Lachlan eat with barely concealed disgust, nursing a black coffee with a single slice of untouched toast on the side while Kade makes his way through scrambled eggs.

‘Oh really?’

‘You lack the spine, Harker.’

It’s obvious bait, meant to take Riley’s measure. See how he handles being insulted in front of Kade.

‘That’s a lot of bacon,’ Riley comments calmly instead of rising to it.

They’re alone in the mess hall at Riley’s request. No one else around.

It’s probably Lachlan’s only saving grace.

The older man smirks.

‘What a good little host you are.’

‘Lachlan,’ Kade warns, his headache pounding dully behind his eyes.

‘I’m just showing my appreciation.’

Riley drinks his coffee.

Rain has coaxed his blond hair into deeper waves.

‘Is that why you never leave?’ Lachlan pushes on, casually mean. ‘You’re squirrelled away making pies for everyone?’