The quality of the sound changed, and James’s voice was louder now that Darius had him on speaker. “That whole mall uses my security systems.” Louder, and a little slurred. Kit had never heard James actually drunk before. It didn’t seem to slow him down. “I’m getting into the cameras now.”
Just hearing their voices was reassuring enough that Kit’s paranoia ebbed. “I’m sure it’s nothing.”
“I don’t care if it’s nothing,” James said. “Don’t move, okay, babe? I can see you now. Is that a chocolate croissant? Save some of it for me.”
The car started, and Darius took over the phone. “Kit, I’m going to hang up so you can pay attention to your surroundings. Text or call if you see anything, but don’t worry. We’re ten minutes away, and James has eyes on you.”
“Thank you,” Kit said quietly.
When the call ended, his fear crashed back over him in full force.
18
This was all wrong.
Kit wrapped the remaining half of his croissant in its paper bag and drank his mocha, mostly because holding the cup kept his hands from shaking. The mocha was gone too quickly, so he drank the latte Holden had left for James too. The caffeine and sugar probably weren’t helping, but his nerves were so fried already, they couldn’t hurt.
Fuck. Kit didn’t even know what he was afraid of—and maybe that was the problem. One of Dad’s friends? The hit Darius told him about?
Or it could be something related to Bishop’s work. Or James’s quest for vengeance. Maybe the wrong person had seen him with James.
Moving in with James may have been the stupidest thing Kit had ever done. When Bishop let him go, he should have fled the state.
Except before Kit met these men, he never had anyone to call for help. That was worth the risk—because knowing that James and Darius are on their way was the only thing keeping Kit sane.
Eight minutes later, Darius texted that they were there—but not to move until James told him to. Kit had to sit, fingers drumming on his thigh because they were too loud on the tabletop, for three more minutes until James showed up.
James looked more disheveled than he usually did on a Monday afternoon. Definitely more disheveled than he had when he dropped Kit off at the mall earlier that day. His glossy black hair was a mess, and his face was flushed with alcohol.
But he still strolled into Ladybug Brews like he owned the place. He glanced briefly at Kit, who wanted to jump up into his arms—but Kit remembered Darius’s instructions. He sat obediently as James made a circuit of the café.
First, he ordered something from Loretta. Then he detoured into the back, where the restrooms were. He grabbed his coffee on his return, and only then did he saunter to Kit’s table.
“What’s a cutie like you doing in a tacky dive like this?” James asked, lifting Kit’s chin with gentle fingertips. It was sweet. Reassuring. However—
The smell of James’s breath distracted Kit from everything else. “Why are you drunk? It’s like, one in the afternoon.”
“I was bored,” James said. “Come on, let’s get out of here.”
“Right. This is for you.” Kit shoved the croissant bag towards James as he stood up.
James glanced around. “Hold it for me, will you? I want a hand free.”
Kit shuddered, reminded suddenly of their date at the overpriced gourmet restaurant. It was the same rare sort of moment where James wasn’t focused entirely on Kit. Where he was paying attention to their surroundings because danger could be anywhere.
Shoving the croissant bag into his sweatshirt pocket, Kit stuck to James’s side. James might be drunk, but he was steady and casual as they exited the café and headed towards the parking lot. He kept a light hand on Kit’s lower back, and that simple protective gesture held Kit together.
A nondescript blue sedan idled at the curb. Kit expected to be pulled into the backseat with James—the guy liked to cuddle—but instead, James opened the front passenger door and gently pushed Kit inside.
Darius sat in the driver’s seat, scanning the parking lot as Kit slumped in. He wore a faded green jacket despite the warm weather. “Everything all right?”
“I don’t know,” Kit said. “I mean, yeah. I’m sorry for making you guys come out here.”
“You didn’t make us do anything. Better safe than sorry, given…” Darius trailed off as James slid into the backseat. “You good back there, James?”
Glued to his phone, James slid his coffee into a cup holder, then buckled his seatbelt one-handed. “I’m flipping through the CCTV footage. Ignore me and drive.”
Something crinkled as Kit twisted around to look at him. “Do you want the croissant?”
