Page 98 of Thief Taker

He sat in one of the chairs by the fire, still wearing his travel-stained greatcoat and riding boots. The expression in his eyes was wary, haunted.

“You’re back,” Elias said quietly, astonished at his own relief in seeing him again. “Everything all right?”

Kit pushed himself to his feet. “Not exactly.” For a long moment he said nothing, just stared at Elias. A couple of times his jaw moved, lips parting as if unspoken words were about to find voice, but then he shook his head.

Moving to the bed, he put out a hand to one of the posts and steadied himself. “Help me with my coat, would you?”

Elias did as he was asked. Despite all that had happened between them last night, he supposed he was still the valet in Kit’s eyes. That stung, but not so much that he could resist running his hands over Kit’s tense shoulders before he took hold of the coat. The solid reality of him was reassuring and he smiled when Kit shuddered at the pressure of his touch. He was close enough that, had he chosen to, he could have kissed the dark hair that curled behind Kit’s ears. He breathed out a deep breath, let it stir the hair there instead. He didn’t touch.

But as he pulled the coat from Kit’s shoulders, down his arms, Kit’s back stiffened. He hissed a breath through his teeth. It sounded like pain.

Elias swallowed a pulse of fear, closing his eyes for a moment. The weight of the greatcoat was heavy in his arms as he laid it on the bed. He stayed there, looking down at the coat. There wasn’t much light in the room, only a couple of candles had been lit, and details were difficult to make out. He didn’t need to look anyway; he refused to doubt Kit. He couldn’t bear it.

When he turned back around, Kit was watching him with those damned honest eyes. There was something in them, though, that Elias didn’t recognise and didn’t like. Was it fear? Doubt? Anxiety, certainly.

“Kit…” Elias lifted a hand as if to touch him, but Kit took a step back. He swallowed and Elias could see his throat working because Kit’s neckcloth was missing, his throat laid bare.

Their eyes locked. Kit shucked off his loose black coat and let it fall to the floor. Beneath it his white linen shirt was stark against his skin, the right sleeve torn and his arm wrapped in a bloodied bandage.

“Your arm…” Elias took a step forward but stopped at the desperate expression on Kit’s face. And in that moment, he could ignore the truth no longer. The floor shifted beneath his feet, knocking the breath from his lungs. Kit reached out a hand as if to steady him, but Elias pushed it away, lurching backwards. “No.” The word came out hoarse, a raw scratch. “No, you ain’t him.”

“Elias, let me—”

“No!” He spun away, dragging in a harsh breath. He couldn’t snatch air into his lungs. His worst imagining was true. Kit had been the man on the road tonight. The man who—

The man who Elias shot.

He pressed his hands over his face until bright spots danced in his vision, but he couldn’t blot out the truth.

Speaking quietly, Kit said, “I know who you are, Elias. I’ve known from the start. I…I recognised you from The Red Lion.”

From the start. Everything, then, had been a deception: every word, every look, every smile, every touch. Elias wanted to scream—at Kit, at himself. At the world. His breath came in wet and ragged gasps, something ugly boiling inside. How could he have been so blind?

“You have to understand. Those men took everything—”

“I have to understand?” He whirled around, fury rising in a great wave. “I have to understand that you’re—You’re a—” He couldn’t say it, couldn’t get the word out of his throat. “You thieving bastard.”

Kit flinched. “I only take from those who preyed on James—”

“It don’t matter!”

“Of course it matters! Elias, you know what Marlborough is, what he’s done to my family. I had to—”

“The law’s the fucking law!” His words rang in a sudden silence, nothing but their harsh breathing between them.

Kit’s jaw worked and at length he said, “Is it?”

“You think it don’t apply to the likes of you?” He felt sick, couldn’t look at the dismay and anger on Kit’s too-pale face. He turned away so he didn’t have to see it. “You’re a thief and a liar, Kit. I can’t believe I—” Believed you. Trusted you. Loved you. His throat constricted, eyes blurring. Damn him. Damn him to hell and back, the lying bastard.

Into the stiff silence Kit said, “You didn’t seem to care about the law when we broke into Salter’s. Or when we…were together.”

“That’s—” He couldn’t think about that; it didn’t matter anyway. “If Groves had—Hell.” If Groves had caught Kit tonight, he’d be on his way to Newgate right now. He should be on his way to Newgate right now. Elias’s anger froze into dread. “God damn you, Kit, you could hang for this. You should hang for this.”

“Will you see that I do?” His words fell into a great silence, or perhaps they carved it out between them. Elias stared at him and Kit stared right back. “Is that—? For God’s sake, Elias, is that your intention?”

Elias set his jaw, defiant against the sting of hurt in Kit’s tone. “It should be,” he said. “Footpads, highpads, cut-purses, and murderers: city’s full of bastards like you and someone has to see justice done.”

Kit blanched, his hand moving briefly to touch the wound on his arm. Elias told himself he didn’t care that Kit was hurt, that he’d hurt him. It was what the man deserved. “I’m not like them,” Kit said. “You know why I had to—”