Kit looked up, but in the dim light from the nearby street lamps, he couldn’t read Holden’s expression. All he saw was a bit of glitter in Holden’s eyeliner. “The problem with profiling murderers is that it’s all based on one kind of murderer. The kind that got caught.”
Holden tipped his head back. “You know, that’s a fantastic point. How did you get into this sort of thing anyway? Did Bishop like… put up a help wanted ad?”
Which was a totally normal question. But suddenly, exhaustion slammed into Kit. He hugged himself, swaying slightly in place with the horrible realization.
He couldn’t do this.
Kit already had too many secrets to keep. He couldn’t masquerade as a normal human for Holden on top of everything. And Kit refused to drag Holden into the murderous underworld.
“You okay?” Holden moved in front of Kit. His shadow blocked out the stars.
“No,” Kit whispered. “Holden, this is so shitty of me to do right now. We shouldn’t see each other.”
Holden froze. “What are you saying?”
Kit hugged himself tighter to keep from selfishly reaching out. “I’m not good for you.”
“You’re breaking up with me.” Holden stepped back and scrubbed a hand over his face. “Fuck. I didn’t see that coming. Fuck, this is awkward.”
Dizziness swept through Kit. “I’m sorry.”
Belatedly, Kit remembered that breaking up with a man he barely knew in a remote, secluded location was a bad idea. But Holden didn’t seem angry. On the contrary, he looked stricken. As if he was the one hurting Kit, instead of the other way around.
“No, darling, don’t be sorry.” Holden slipped again into Kit’s personal space, and Kit couldn’t remember when he got closer. “I just need you to know that none of this is revenge for you breaking up with me, okay?”
Kit didn’t understand. “What?” he asked, or tried to. His voice felt too sticky and quiet in his throat.
“I’m not that kind of guy.” Holden’s grin was colder than Kit had ever seen it. “I’m a very different kind of guy. But I’m not mad that you dumped me. This isn’t about that.”
Holden’s voice echoed and thinned, like it was coming from a distance. Kit barely heard his own question. “What are you talking about?”
Warm fingers traced Kit’s clammy skin, and loving words sank through Kit’s murky consciousness.
“Darling, darling. I already drugged you ten minutes ago.”
36
such clear and dangerous desire
Kit didn’t understand at first. But Holden stared down at him with such clear and dangerous desire.
Drugged.
Holden drugged him.
That was why Kit’s head was spinning.
“Why?” Kit asked, the drug muting his shock. He reached for his phone, but his pocket was empty. Where was his phone?
“Shh, it’s all right.” Holden grabbed Kit’s hands, trapped between them. “You don’t need your phone.”
Holden’s grip was tender. Almost fondling Kit’s fingers. But his gentle grasp might as well be steel handcuffs. Kit was too weak to struggle. He was too weak to even think clearly.
The bracelet. Kit needed to tap the bracelet, and Darius would help him. But Kit couldn’t move his hands.
Kit couldn’t even keep his eyes open. Darkness swept over him, and Holden’s sweet murmurs melted into silence.
Holden wanted to linger. The moment was perfect—clear skies above, and the distant pounding music only emphasized the perfect solitude of the rooftop. Kit’s small, perfect body melted completely limp in Holden’s arms.
