“Shiloh,” Kit called out.
The kid jumped. “Who’s there? Kit?”
Kit scanned the darkness for any reaction. Nothing. “Come over here.”
After a pause, Shiloh sprinted over. Stupid, obedient kid. He stumbled to a halt in front of Kit, and fuck. Kit barely risked a glance at him, trying to focus on the park. The car. But that one glance hammered their resemblance home.
“Nice to meet you, Shiloh.” Kit adjusted his grip. He should have asked James for more guns. For emotional support. Maybe one of those pens that was secretly a knife. “I’m here. What was the next step in my asshole dad’s plan?”
Shiloh hugged himself. “Is he really your dad?”
“I try not to think about it,” Kit said, not sure whether the breezy voice was to comfort Shiloh or himself.
“He is not a nice man.” Shiloh hugged himself tighter, then twisted around. Like he couldn’t meet Kit’s eyes. “Fuck. I can’t do this. I can’t.”
“What can’t you do?” Kit asked, trying to sound nice and reassuring.
It must work, because Shiloh unraveled. He produced something small and plastic from his pocket. “I’m supposed to jab you with this. He said I could take you by surprise. You wouldn’t suspect me.”
Kit bit back nausea. “He was right. I wouldn’t.” Trust Laird to multitask. Hurt Kit and saddle another kid with impossible guilt at the same time. “What is it?”
“A sedative,” Shiloh answered. “At least that’s what he said. Archie will kill me if I don’t do it. I don’t want to die, but I don’t… I don’t know what to do.”
Kit couldn’t look away now. Whatever was lurking in the shadows, this was Kit’s real test. Bishop and the rest of the guys would be pissed off, but in the end, they would understand.
They’d made plenty of their own bad decisions, for their own right reasons.
Shiloh stared up with wet eyes. Colorless in the darkness. Expecting Kit to have a plan.
Luckily, Kit did. “I’m going to give you directions to a house. You’re going to run there.”
Shiloh picked up the key detail, despite his panic. “What about you?”
“I’m staying here.” Kit took the syringe. “And I’m following Laird’s plan.”
44
“Where is Kit?”
“Pull over,” James said, suddenly tense. He prayed the screen on his tracking phone was lying.
Frustratingly, the driver checked to make sure it was safe before pulling onto the highway shoulder.
“What’s wrong?” Holden asked from the other back seat
Everything. Or nothing. But probably everything. James speed dialed Bishop on his personal cell without answering. Two eternal seconds before Bishop picked up.
Without preamble, James demanded, “Where is Kit?”
“He went to…” Bishop cut himself off. “Fuck.”
“Turn around,” James snapped to the driver.
Holden added, “Please and thank you.” Which sounded even more threatening in Holden’s ice-cold voice.
James returned all his attention to the call, where movement was happening on the other end. “Don’t bother checking the house.”
“I’m not checking the house,” Bishop said, mission-calm. Good. “Give me the data.”
