Page 50 of Chasing Kit

Just redecorating a basement.

Kit

Does it stink?

The corner of my mouth twitched. Christ, I missed him so much it hurt.

War

Smells better than your gym socks.

I snorted to myself. One time when I’d come around to see Derek—before secrets were revealed—Kit had just gotten home from the gym. He’d stripped his shoes in the doorway, near where I’d stood, and it was the kind of odor that made me gag, and I’d smelled a lot of disgusting things in my life. Back then, I’d never said anything. I was a professional, after all, but now it seemed like a joke I could make.

Kit

Rude. It means I worked hard on my body. That’s important, you know. And it was pretty much the only time I’d gone to the gym.

I was about to respond when a shadow flickered in the corner of the room. Nitro’s laughter—low and wet, like someone rolling marbles in their throat—echoed down the steps. He ducked his head inside, a red handkerchief pressed against his nose.

“Boss needs you upstairs.” His eyes glittered, mean as always. “Wants to know if you found the teeth.”

I grabbed a handful of molars and held them up. “Tell him he can finish his necklace.”

Nitro’s lips peeled back in a grin. “Will do.”

He lingered, watching me with that gleam. I trusted Nitro. I was the reason he was still alive and not a name added to a suicide list. I’d dragged him out of the same hell I’d experienced and offered him a job with Derek years ago. He was a good guy and an even better soldier. “You gonna shower before lunch?”

“Why?” I jerked my chin. “You into blood or just the musk?”

He snorted. “You know what they say about us navy guys.”

I didn’t, actually, but I’d learned long ago not to ask Nitro to elaborate. He lived a different experience than me. I was part of a SEAL team, he stayed a navy man.

As soon as he stomped away, I checked my phone again because there was another ping.

Kit

You wanna get out of there for a couple hours? Like, drive to the lake or something?

The words punched harder than they should’ve. I could almost hear Kit’s voice—always a little nervous, with the kind of awkwardness that was more adorable than embarrassing. If I closed my eyes, I could see his hands fidgeting with the seams of his shirt. His eyebrows scrunched up, deep in thought. My stomach twisted.

War

Water’s probably getting cold by now. It’s no climate-controlled pool in a hotel.

Kit

I don’t care. I just want to sit in your car and scream at the gulls. Maybe throw rocks.

I wiped the inside of my wrist against my forehead and left a smear of someone else’s DNA across my temple.

War

Pick you up at 4?

Kit

Yeah. Dad’s not here. Come whenever.