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“Good.” He slaps a hand on the back of my shoulder. “I’m glad we see eye to eye. It’s been nice, us not being rivals anymore. The Burneses and Baynes have proven we can get more accomplished working together than at one another’s throats.”
It’s not lost on me he puts his surname before mine.
“Aye, Kings forever,” I agree. For now.
We shake hands, our rough, work-worn skin confirming the shaky pact us younger generations hope to continue and solidify.
Eamon finds me as I’m leaving, again looking guilty as hell as he glances nervously over his shoulder. “Alright?”
“It was before you came out. Won’t the boys find it suspicious, you out here talking to me?” The tease is lost on him. He takes a pack of cigarettes out of the pocket of his shirt.
“Nah. They know I’m coming out to have a smoke. Besides, I always say goodbye to my big brother.”
“You holding up okay here?” I ask, watching with disapproval as he lights his cigarette. I don’t say a thing. I remember being his age and as soon as someone told me not to do something, I did it twice as much.
He takes a long drag. On his exhale, blue smoke swirls through the air. “Yeah. Been having a laugh with the boys. Drinking more beer than I probably should.”
“That’ll stop when you move back home, same as the smoking.” I say. “We’ll be back to our nightly workouts in the garage. Can’t let you lose your womanly figure.”
“Speaking of figures, how long do you think we have till we’ve got to make a move with Kitt?”
“Callum is on to me,” I say. “Told me as much.”
“Did he?”
“Yeah. I bought us some time. A few days, maybe. But we’re going to have to come clean with the gang if we’re going to keep her.”
Eamon gives me a hard stare. “You mean we’re going to have to come clean with the Kings, then.”
“You’re not the one who has to live with her,” I say, thinking of the cookies that are waiting for me at home.
He gazes out over the hills. “She can’t be all bad.”
“Speaking of the wee devil, I’ve got to get back. Make sure our pretty little captive is still there.”
“I’m sure she stayed put. Nowhere to go out here. Unless she thinks she’s going to ride a sheep off into the night.”
I almost laugh, picturing Kitt, her black boots, dark hair hanging down her back, a fluffy sheep underneath her, meandering down the road, making her getaway.
It’s almost five by the time I get home. She’s had a full day to herself. I picture her walking around my place admiring the architecture, her face lit up like it was when she first saw it. A wee bit of excitement rises in my chest. I’m almost looking forward to seeing her.
The front door is locked as I left it. I step into the foyer, calling her name. “Kitty Cat Catherine. I’m back.”
I don’t know what I’m expecting for her reply, but I get nothing back.
"Kitt?" The kitchen’s been left neat and tidy, cookies stowed away, her wooden countertops spotless and gleaming.
I mean—mine. Ones I cut, laid, and epoxied myself. This innae her house and she’s not in charge of that kitchen. I can’t let her take an ounce of control, she’d walk all over me.
Except—maybe—when cookies are involved. I may be a monster but I’m not a dimwit. Don’t spank the woman when she’s feeding you.
I search the rest of the house, expecting to find her curled up like her Kitty Cat self in one of the rooms. My heart beats harder with each uninhabited space.
Where the fuck is she.
“Kitt! Get your ass out here. NOW!”
It’s so quiet I can hear the wind blowing against the windows.
