by C. B. Lewis
“If the gates are taken from us, then that might be a good thing.”
He turned his quill around in his hands. “People might ask me what I’m doing.”
“Just say you’re keeping them up to Sanders’s specifications,” she replied. “We need the locks in place. If they take them, if they use them, we need to make sure they don’t make the same mistakes we did.”
“I’ll see to it,” he promised.
Mariam stepped back from the gate. “Have you heard from Detective Inspector Ofori?” She said it casually, but something in her tone made the hairs on the back of Kit’s neck rise.
“Not lately.”
He saw the way her shoulders rose and fell with the release of a breath. “Oh.” She turned back to face him. “He quit.”
Kit stared at her. “What?”
“Detective Inspector Ofori. He quit.”
“Quit?” Kit echoed. “Quit what? The case?”
She shook her head. “The police force.”
Kit tightened his grip on his quill. “What?”
“DS Temple told me she was taking over the case,” Mariam replied quietly. “She said DI Ofori was stepping down, and that she would be taking his place until the case is over.”
Kit felt unsteady on his feet. Shit. Had he got Jacob in so much trouble he had to quit? “Did she say why?”
Mariam shook her head. “She just said he was stepping down from the case, and his resignation was pending.”
Kit felt sick. His hands were trembling so much he had to curl them into fists to hide it. Jesus. He’d done a lot of things in his life, but he’d never screwed anyone’s life up so badly before.
“I didn’t know.”
Mariam awkwardly patted him on the arm. “This situation hasn’t been good for anyone.”
He nodded, but he was staring past her. It wasn’t the same thing. He was the one who had pursued Jacob, and even after Jacob had warned him that it could lead to trouble, he’d kept going to him. He was the reason Jacob was out of a job. He was the reason Jacob had been screwed over. It wasn’t the case or the TRI or anything else. It was just him.
“You okay?”
Kit shook his head. “I think I need to make a call,” he said. “’Scuse me.” He bolted for the door. He ran through the layover room and out into the hall, taking the stairs two at a time.
Three flights up, he had to stop. His chest felt like someone was squeezing it with a giant hand, and he stumbled against the wall, gasping. He sank to sit at the foot of the wall, trying to catch his breath, and his hands shook as he opened up Jacob’s number.
He stared blankly at the dial key.
What the hell was he meant to say?
What the hell was he meant to do?
The quill clattered when it hit the floor, and he pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes. Christ, what kind of selfish bastard was he to start going after Jacob all over again? The man had already lost his job because of Kit.
He was still sitting there, arms wrapped around his legs, when Mariam caught up with him. She didn’t speak at once. Instead, she just knelt down and picked up his quill, widening the screen with a touch. She held it back out to him.
“You should call him.”
Kit wanted to argue, but it came out as a breaking laugh.
She sighed and took one of his hands in hers, turning it over. “He thought you were worth the risk, Kit.”
She laid the quill in his hand, and he closed his fingers around it as she stepped around him and made her way up the stairs.
He called, eventually, but it was no surprise that Jacob wasn’t replying.
Kit slipped his quill away. Later, he decided. He would try again later. He rubbed his eyes. He was so bloody tired, and it was already well past time for him to leave.
Half an hour later, he was out of the building and out of sight of the lurking reporters. He signaled one of the taxi-pods, and while he was waiting, tried Jacob’s number again. It didn’t even go to the in-box. No wonder. If he’d dropped his job as quickly as Mariam said, then everyone would be trying to reach him. And no surprise he was avoiding it all.
Kit clambered into the taxi-pod, tapping his quill against the destination sensor. He slouched back in the seat and closed his eyes, trying to think what he would say to Jacob when he finally got through to him.
The journey home didn’t take as long as expected, and when the pod chimed, he sat up with a frown.
He was outside Jacob’s apartment block.
Kit stared at the building, then at his quill. Of course. The bloody thing picked up on the last location he had used in the taxi network. Either that or the universe was trying to have a good laugh at his expense.
Still, if he was going to apologize for ballsing up Jacob’s life, maybe it was better to do it face-to-face.
It felt like a lifetime since he’d walked down the hall, even if only a dozen hours had passed. It all felt different. It was different.
His hand shook as he pressed the door chime.
He didn’t know what he was going to say. He didn’t know what he could say. He just knew he had to say something.
The door opened.
Luke was standing on the other side. “Kit.”
Kit looked down at his shoes self-consciously. “Your dad—”
“He’s not here,” Luke interrupted. “He didn’t come home.”
Chapter 45
THERE WERE people arguing in the hall.
Jacob took another mouthful of beer from his bottle and tried not to listen. It was the trouble of going for a downscale hotel somewhere out of the way: thinner walls and doors, and a less considerate clientele.
His room was as basic as they came, with a bed, small couch, table, and chairs. The en suite was clean, but that was about all that could be said for it. It felt more like a holding cell than somewhere to rest and relax.
Jacob stood by the window, looking down into the street.
The worst of rush hour was over, but there were still pods shuttling here and there, back toward the city center. He had idly toyed with the idea of wandering out, finding somewhere to eat, but put it aside almost at once. He always hated eating out alone. Without someone to talk to, it didn’t feel right.
Instead, he’d called down for room service. Holing up in the room and staying there with his quill turned off felt like the simplest course of action. His colleagues would want answers, and he wasn’t ready to give them yet.
He turned from the window, letting the curtain fall back in place. He knew he could call and Luke would come running. His son had insisted on staying in town after Jacob called him to let him know what had happened at Harper’s offices. He wanted to be there, he said. What kind of son would he be if he wasn’t there when his father’s world fell apart?
And yet, Jacob was hiding out in a hotel and had told his son to let him be.
He didn’t even know why.
Force of habit, he supposed. Pride. Retreating into a corner to lick his wounds and try and work out what he was meant to do next.
He didn’t know.
He sat down on the edge of the bed and drained the rest of the bottle.
Almost thirty years on the force. What the hell was he meant to do with himself? He had no real formal education. All he knew was police work, especially detective work. Those weren’t the most transferable skills.
And then there was Kit.
They’d gone their separate ways. It had been a clean break. The trouble was that the job—the case—was the reason they couldn’t see each other, but that obstacle was out of the way now. It was another factor to think about, another decision that needed to be made, and right now, Jacob’s head was buzzing.
He picked up another bottle of beer from the pack at his feet.
In the hall, the argument had trailed off. A door slammed somewhere beyond his walls.
He opened the bottle and took a drink, enjoying the brief silence.
The door chimed
to notify him someone was waiting and he glanced at his watch. For such a basic place, the room service was bloody fast.
He set the bottle on the nightstand and went over to open the door.
His heart leapt to his mouth.
Kit was standing there, looking smaller and disheveled. “Hello.” He looked down at his feet, then back up. “We need to talk.”
He was right, of course. There were decisions to be made. Conversations they needed to have. All the things a sensible adult would do.
Jacob couldn’t give a shit about any of them. He grabbed Kit by the front of his jacket and pulled him into the room, and before Kit could say a word, Jacob had him pressed up against the back of the door, kissing him as if his life depended on it.
Kit froze, startled, but it lasted less than a heartbeat. His taut lips softened, parting, and his tongue darted against Jacob’s. Jacob almost laughed with relief, sinking his fingers into Kit’s tangled hair.
Kit’s hands were wandering too, and Jacob shuddered pleasantly as one of them undid the buttons of his shirt and slipped between the folds to press to his skin. Kit curled his fingers and his nails scratched down, drawing a groan of want from Jacob’s throat.
He pulled back from the kiss reluctantly, nipping Kit’s lower lip in reproof, and searched the younger man’s face.
Kit’s pale cheeks had flushed and his lips were already swollen. He met Jacob’s eyes as he undid the rest of the buttons of Jacob’s shirt, pushing it open, then slid his hands up to the back of Jacob’s neck to pull him back for another kiss.
Jacob wasn’t sure which of them moved first, but all at once, they were stumbling toward the bed. Clothes fell in their wake. He shook his shirt off his arms, Kit pulled his T-shirt over his head and threw it aside, and both of them were kicking their trousers off as they crashed down onto the bed.
Kit landed on top of him, chest to chest, and pinned him in place with his body, his hands sunk into the covers on either side of Jacob’s head. Jacob could feel the younger man’s heart thundering as rapidly as his own.
“Hey,” Kit said, eyes shining.
Jacob splayed his hands on Kit’s back, sliding them down to squeeze his arse. “Hey.”
Kit’s mouth was on his suddenly, hotly. His tongue teased along Jacob’s lips and thrust lazily between them, over and over, as he rocked his hips against Jacob’s. It was playful, and he squirmed encouragingly when Jacob swatted his backside.
Jacob dragged his hand back up to tug on Kit’s hair, drawing his head up just enough to look him in the eyes. “Fancy going out with me some time?” he asked.
Kit stared at him, then dropped his head forward to burrow his face in Jacob’s neck. “I’m naked and wriggling on top of you.” He nibbled his way up Jacob’s throat, earning pleasant shivers. Jacob jolted as teeth closed on his earlobe and tugged. Kit’s breath was warm against his ear. “What do you think?”
Jacob curled his fingers, dragging his nails across Kit’s scalp. “I’m not sure. Maybe you should paint me a sign.”
Kit lifted his head and looked down at him. They stared at each other. Kit was the one to break first, dissolving into giggles. Jacob couldn’t help smiling as Kit leaned down on top of him, his knees pressing into the mattress on either side of Jacob’s body.
“I like you,” Kit informed him and kissed the tip of his nose.
Jacob trailed his fingertips lightly up Kit’s back, then back down. “Same.”
It was the first time he had really said anything of the kind, the first time he’d felt free to, and he could see the moment that Kit recalled why. His smile winked out, and he pushed himself up to kneel over Jacob, straddling his thighs. He braced his hands on Jacob’s midriff, looking down at them.
“Sorry about your job.”
Jacob pushed himself up on one elbow and reached up to catch the back of Kit’s head. “I made the call.” He ran his thumb along Kit’s cheek. “You helped me, you know. If it wasn’t for you, I’d have been fired and never got the bastard I was after.”
Kit’s expression brightened. “You caught him?”
Jacob grinned. “Oh yes.” For all that losing his livelihood was like the rug being pulled out from under him, he still had the satisfaction of knowing he had outsmarted Harper. “He was going to try and blackmail me. Thanks to you, I knew to expect it, so I played my hand first. The son of a bitch didn’t know what hit him.”
“Good.” Kit’s smile returned, though it was still not as brilliant as it had been. “That’s good.”
Jacob pushed himself up into a sitting position, sliding his hand down to knead at the back of Kit’s neck. “Don’t give me that look.”
“What look?”
Jacob raised his eyebrows. “That kicked-puppy look,” he replied. He drew Kit back, closer, and kissed him again. “Look on the bright side. I can take you out in public now and get us arrested for indecent exposure the next time we shag on the balcony.”
Kit’s face lit up like a beacon, his grin returning, and he smacked Jacob’s shoulder. “You’re a twat.”
“Mm.” Jacob brushed his lips lightly along Kit’s, teasing him into another kiss.
“Jacob….” Kit began, drawing back.
“Not tonight,” Jacob murmured. “I just… let’s just not think for a bit, eh? Just tell me you’re all right with this. With us.”
Kit ran his hand along Jacob’s shoulders. “Have you looked at you lately?” It was an echo of that first date, that first night. It felt like such a long time ago.
Jacob wrapped his arm around Kit’s waist, pulling him flush against his own body. “That doesn’t answer the question.”
Kit cupped Jacob’s face between his hands and met his eyes. His expression was solemn. “I say again, I’m naked and wriggling on top of you. What do you think?”
Jacob rubbed his cheek into Kit’s hand. “Not enough wriggling.”
Their mouths met again, and Kit rose on his knees over him, cradling Jacob’s head as he drew every breath from Jacob’s lips. It was hungry and demanding, and Jacob kneaded at Kit’s back and down, curving over his arse and squeezing.
The door chimed and Jacob pulled back. “Shit.”
“Ignore it,” Kit suggested, nibbling on Jacob’s ear.
“Ignore my first meal since breakfast?”
Kit sat back down on Jacob’s lap. He looked torn. “Bugger,” he declared, swinging one leg over and getting to his feet. “Yeah. You need to eat something.” He looked around, then snatched up his trousers, pulling them back on. “I’ll get it.”
By the time he returned from the door, carrying the tray, Jacob had rearranged himself in his boxers. Thankfully, he wasn’t nearly as up as he could have been, though he couldn’t help notice the reproachful look Kit gave his groin.
“Nothing personal.”
Kit wrinkled his nose. “We’ll say it’s low blood sugar.”
Jacob smiled. “I’m not sure that’s how it works.”
Kit slouched down in one of the chairs by the table, pushing the other one out with his foot. “Let me stroke my poor, feeble ego.” He loosened the waistband of his trousers and shoved his hand down, wincing. “I need something with a more comfy seam.”
“That’s your feeble ego?” Jacob picked up the fork.
Kit gave him a look, raising his eyebrows. “Funny.” He settled back in the chair, watching Jacob eat. “How bad was it? Today?”
“I’m not ready to talk about it yet,” Jacob replied without looking at him. He used the side of his fork to cut up a sausage, then skewered one of the pieces. “I’m guessing Luke told you where to find me?”
Kit nodded. He combed his fingers through his hair, leaving it more rumpled than before. “I was coming to apologize. I think he felt sorry for me, and since he was worried about you, two birds with one stone.”
“He’s a conniving little shit,” Jacob said with his mouth full. “I told him I didn’t want him to come over. He didn’t want me to be on my own.” He p
ointed a fork at Kit. “You solved that for him.”
“He was just worried.” Kit stretched out his leg and brushed his toes along Jacob’s bare calf. “But he didn’t tell me to get you on the bed and naked.”
Jacob laughed quietly. “Yeah. I bet.” He pushed the plate toward Kit. “Hungry?”
Kit stole a chip, swirling it in the ketchup. “Do you want to come back to mine?”
Jacob looked at him in surprise. “What?”
“You don’t need to stay in this dump,” Kit said. “I mean, if you want.”
Jacob wiped his mouth on the napkin. “Any reporters still lurking about?”
Kit grimaced. “Yeah. Balls. I forgot about them.”
“It was a kind offer.” Jacob glanced over at the bed. “There’s room for two here, though. If you don’t mind sharing a dump with me.”
Kit stole another chip. “I think I can manage,” he said and smiled.
Chapter 46
SOMETHING WAS ringing.
Kit grumbled in protest. The computer wasn’t switching it off, and it wasn’t until he felt his warm pillow push him off that he remembered he wasn’t even in his own flat.
The lights went on and he gave a pitiful moan, rolling over and burying his face in the pillow. Jacob patted him apologetically on the back as he picked up the receiver of the hotel’s telephone. At least, Kit thought muzzily, the ringing had stopped.
The night hadn’t gone at all as he’d anticipated.
He’d shown up in the belief he was going to apologize and Jacob was going to show him the door. He hadn’t expected to be kissed. And even after they were interrupted, he hadn’t expected the invitation to stay.
It wasn’t as if they’d gone back to shagging either. Jacob was shattered, and Kit had to admit he knew the feeling. They’d rolled into bed by nine o’clock, and though he had teased Jacob with the offer of a hand job, they’d ended up watching some daft film on the telly and Kit had dozed off before it finished, his head on Jacob’s chest.
He could hear Jacob talking in a low voice, and reluctantly rolled over. Jacob was sitting up on the edge of the bed. The soft light was playing across his back and shoulders, and Kit could see how tense he was.
