Singh sighs, but as he sets the container down, no doubt to launch into a speech about why Kit’s being unreasonable, I open my mouth.
“Then I’ll go instead,” I say, and while Kit turns to me like I’ve just announced I’m moving to Mars, Singh picks up theleftovers again and takes another bite. “It’s a club meeting, right? There’ll be other people there?”
“If you go anywhere near Dylan, he will try to kill you,” says Kit, so bluntly that even though I know it’s true, it still sends a shock wave through me.
“Not if there are witnesses,” I counter. “If we turn this down—”
“IfIturn this down,” corrects Kit. “Dylan doesn’t know you’re here.”
“Then he won’t be prepared to get away with murder,” I say, sounding more confident than I feel. I’ve only met him once, but I’m pretty sure Dylan isn’t the type to let something as fickle as the element of surprise get in the way of putting me in my grave.
“Evan…” Kit takes my hand—the one that isn’t still clutching his mobile. “You know as well as I do how dangerous Dylan is. If I go on my own, it’ll be a risk, but if you come with me, your protection officers will be forced to interfere, if they can even get there quick enough to stop Dylan from…from…”
“He shot you, too,” I say quietly as I glance at his sleeve, which hides the pink scar on his bicep. “For all we know, he could be after both of us.”
Kit shakes his head, but I see a flicker of doubt in his eyes. “Maybe, but either way, wedoknow that if you go, this will all be for nothing. Either Dylan will kill you, or he’ll force you to blow your cover, and neither outcome is an option.”
“We can’t walk away, either,” I say. “You know we can’t. If this is our only chance, we have to take it.”
Kit closes his eyes briefly, and I know I’ve finally gottenthrough to him. But as I part my lips to offer a few suggestions—a wig for me, maybe, or even a fake nose—Kit speaks.
“Then I’ll go,” he says. “But not with you, Ev.”
I blink. “Kit—”
“I mean it,” he says, first looking at me, and then at Singh. “I’ll do it, but Evan stays here. It’s too dangerous no matter what precautions we take.”
Singh scrapes around the bottom of the takeaway container. “I agree,” he says, and my mouth drops open. “Evan, you’ll stay here. Kit, get that address from Dylan, and my team will draw up our plans.”
I look between them both, slack-jawed. “That’s it?” I say hoarsely. “You’re going to send Kit straight into the lion’s den, and I’m—what, grounded?”
“If that’s how you’d like to look at it,” says Singh with zero sympathy. Not that I expect any from him, but when I look at Kit, his lips are pursed, and he can’t—won’t—meet my eye.
“I’m sorry, Ev,” he says. “But you’re right. This is what we’re here for. We can’t let this opportunity slip away.”
“Bullshit,” I mutter. And though I want to fight—I want to argue them both into submission—my eyes are hot and prickling with unshed tears, and my limbs tremble as I stand and march to the bedroom. I don’t understand my physical reaction at first, so strong that there’s nothing I can do to stop it, and part of me worries that Maisie’s temper tantrums are rubbing off on me. But as I close the door and lean against it, both grateful and wrecked when I don’t hear anyone following, a cold fist wraps around my insides, and I recognize this feeling for what it is.
Panic.
With Dylan in play now, the game just became deadlier than either of us anticipated, and if anything else happens to Kit because of me…
Have you considered the possibility that they might bring him back into the fold, only to silence him for good?
Chapter Three
You’re sure?
Sure as I can be without dragging him there myself. Which I might.
Good. Deliver the package.
Tonight? In public?
Are you afraid?
No.
Then do it.
