THREE
“Arewealmostthere yet?”
Since leaving the hotel, this was the first thing Kit said to me. He’d mumbled under his breath so far, which was a bit annoying, but he was probably trying to figure out if he was making the right choice. He still had time to change his mind and walk away from this. At any minute, I’d expected him to tell me to stop the car and let him out, but so far, so good.
“Another half a mile,” I replied. “Do you want to go back?”
“Umm, I don’t think so.”
“We won’t be able to get anything done tonight, so I suggest you use the time to think about it. It’s not a job you walk away from after committing to it.”
“Sounds ominous. Do I have to sign a piece of paper in blood or something?” He cleared his throat and held up his hands in front of him as if holding a scroll. “I, Kitson Sherman, promise not to give away any secrets while working with one Sullivan Matthews. I hereby sign this declaration in blood that should I break this covenant, he shall lock me in a tower and have his wicked way with me.”
I shook my head, my shoulders relaxing. “Are you always this silly?”
“Pretty much.” He squirmed in his seat. “By the way, you get to choose how you’d have your wicked way with me, but I could make some suggestions.”
“Of course you could.”
“Want to hear them?”
“Straight, remember?”
He reached across the console and poked me in the side. “Get your mind out of the gutter. I was talking about ways to torture me. I was watching a crime documentary once and…”
He droned on about a crime documentary about a syndicate where the enforcer always found creative ways of killing others. Did he ever stop talking? He never seemed to run out of breath. Words tumbled one after the other, sometimes not even making sense.
“And I’m, like, who the hell would come up with something so sick and twisted, right? He—holy shit!”
I startled, clutching the steering wheel as I slowed down at the entrance to my property. I hit the button in my car, and the gates slid open.
“What?”
“This place—it’s wow!”
I lived here for the past five years, and I’d become so used to it that I hardly noticed it anymore. External lights illuminated the two-story structure. It was modest in comparison to some of the other houses in the neighborhood, but for someone like Kit, who’d been sleeping on a twin bed, it would seem huge.
I parked in front of the porch and turned off the ignition. “I’m sorry I won’t be able to give you a full tour right now. You see, this is a bit of an urgent situation, so we need to get things settled quickly.”
The front door unlocked, and I stepped aside to let him enter. As we walked along the hall, the lights automatically came on.
“You do seem in a hurry,” he said, trailing after me. “Is anyone else here?”
“Just us right now. The kitchen and living room are downstairs. Upstairs we have the bedrooms. This way.” I touched his arm when he veered off to the living room. He turned and followed me up the staircase to the second floor. I walked him down the hall to the room at the end.
“You’ll stay here for the night.” I opened the door and flicked the light on. He cupped his neck as he surveyed the room. “There are other guest rooms if you don’t like this.”
“What’s not to like?” He passed me and dropped down on the bed, giggling. “Oh, it’s so soft. The sort of bed that…” He sat up and grinned at me. “Of course you don’t want to hear any of that.”
Not one word. What he did and who he did it with was none of my concern.
“Do you have an ID on you?” I asked.
He shook his head, his face falling. “Nolan keeps everything. Our birth papers, IDs, social security card. Every document we have of ourselves.”
I’d never had dealings with his pimp before, but I knew enough about the guy.
“Don’t worry. I’ll get them back.”