Page 49 of Chasing Kit

“Arrigo will handle it,” Sky interrupted. His voice was firm and final. “I’m loyal to him, Kit. That means something. It means I don’t run the second things get dangerous.”

“You’ll die here.” My voice was shredded, misery and anxiety threading through each word. I’d killed someone. Fuck!

“Maybe.” Sky met my eyes. “But I won’t die a traitor. I love him.”

Something cracked open in my chest, the last hope I didn’t know I was holding on to until it broke. I shot a look at War, who stood quietly. Waiting. This wasn’t anything new to him. He’d killed plenty of people and now I’d seen it with my own eyes. But so had I now.

“There’s a service entrance in the back,” Sky said. “Stairs down to the alley. Go.”

War looked at me, a bodyguard ready to follow me. Or maybe, it was him being a boyfriend. Because he was my boyfriend, wasn’t he?

I stood there for one more second, looking at my brother, memorizing the set of his jaw and the stubborn line of his shoulders. The same stubbornness that had always been there, that had driven Sky to follow our father into this life while I stayed in the shadows, completely oblivious to what was happening around me. I really was an idiot. Book smart, sure. But an idiot when it came to life.

“Be careful,” I pleaded.

Sky almost smiled. “You too, big brother.”

I followed War down the back stairs, through the alley, to where the car was parked three blocks away. We didn’t speak as we slid into the Porsche. Even if I could use words, I didn’t know what to say. I hadn’t planned to come here and fucking kill someone. War drove to some docks. I didn’t ask him why, but when he swept out of the Porsche, I followed. The afternoon sun was hanging low, nighttime creeping closer. Darkness was impending, looming around us, and it wasn’t because of the setting sun. No. It was me. I was in darkness.

I stood at the railing and leaned against the cold metal, watching the ripples in the water below us. I’d just killed a woman. I should be vomiting. I should be crying. I should feel something other than this hollow, ringing emptiness, punctuated by a strange, cold relief that she was gone and my brother was still alive.

War lit a cigarette and held it out. I shook my head. Getting blackout drunk a few nights ago and killing someone were enough new experiences for me. At least for now. I needed to recalibrate.

“You okay?” War asked.

I thought about Francesca’s face, about the ease with which I’d pulled the trigger, about Sky choosing Arrigo over me and his safety. I considered the fact that I was standing here, watching the water, instead of falling apart.

“No,” I answered truthfully. “But I think I will be.”

I wasn’t sure if that was true. Did he want it to be true?

The city was darkening around us, and War was the anchor beside me, warm and strong and dependable. There was nothing left to do but get in the car and drive back to a dad I didn’t know before flying to a home that wasn’t quite a home anymore.

Who was Kit Uhlig after all this? I guess I was going to find out.

14

WAR

I’d almost forgotten what the inside of a rib cage looked like. It’d been months since I’d had to clean up an old-school mess, and now here I was—elbow-deep in pink runoff and a slurry of tooth fragments, picking a very dead man out of the foundation, one damp chunk at a time.

My eyes burned. Bleach fumes wrapped around us and the only thing that saved me from choking was the face masks. I also had a pair of goggles on, so the burn could’ve been the three hours of sleep I’d gotten in the last forty-eight hours, too.

Derek, in his infinite hospitality, had seen to it I was the only set of hands left for the job. Nitro was out back burning old documents. Two other goons were running errands in town—one at the gun range, the other at a bulk foods store for plastic tarps and ice.

Most of my recent days were like this. Work detail, punishment, or just the lingering reminder that Derek hadn’t gotten around to killing me yet. And he made sure I knew it. Every time I reached for my phone, he’d somehow materialize behind me. Eyes like black marble, always watching.

Being back in New Gothenburg wasn’t the trophy I’d thought it would be. I hadn’t seen Kit in two weeks and I missed him. So fucking much. We’d texted, but that wasn’t the same as seeing him in person. From what he’d told me, he was back at school and studying as hard as he could. Was he trying to forget Francesca and the bullet he put in her head? The same one that had come from a gun he held?

I checked his latest message.

Kit

What are you up to right now?

I swiped off my nitrile glove and typed back.

War