Page 25 of Relentless Touch

Kevin paused with his hand on the doorknob, talking himself into going outside. He wasn’t doing anything wrong. He didn’t need approval to hang out with a new friend after closing.

You’re my mate, not my prisoner.

Exactly. Kevin was with Kenai. They weren’t going to be outside long, and they would be inside a car.

The parking lot was empty, except for Kenai’s car and Rio’s truck. Kevin scented the air and sniffed in a lungful of bleach. Maybe Rio was cleaning something.

“Damn, Rio’s going to knock himself out if he doesn’t cut back on the bleach,” Kenai said. “You didn’t drop food on the floor, did you?”

“That floor is spotless,” Kevin argued. “I even scrubbed the baseboards.”

Kenai held up his hands, lips twitching. “Sorry I ever doubted you’re next-level cleaning skills.”

They crossed the strip of cracked pavement and stopped at the driver’s door of the car. An economical white sedan. There were a few dents in the back panel and a large crack on the back window in the shape of a lightning bolt.

Kevin gazed at second floor, watching Rio’s silhouette cross the room. “Maybe we could chill in the dining area or at the bar.”

Kenai didn’t answer. Frowning, Kevin turned but didn’t see the guy anywhere. Did he have to use the bathroom?

“Kenai?” A sense of wrongness gnawed at Kevin. The night was so quiet it was eerie. There should’ve been a reply, some kind of sound when Kenai had walked away.

More importantly, he should’ve told Kevin he needed to use the bathroom instead of leaving him out here, every sound spooking the shit out of him.

“Just head back inside. Don’t stand out here like a willing victim, dumbass.” Kevin hurried toward the door, but froze when something in the shadows moved. “Kenai?”

Maybe he’d used the bushes instead heading back inside.

You are totally acting like a horror-movie idiot. People who investigate are always the ones who die.

Although Kevin wholeheartedly agreed with his mind, what if Kenai was in some sort of trouble?

Oh my god! If he was in trouble, he wouldn’t be quietly attacked. Get your ass back inside the restaurant!

Kevin moved quickly toward the side door.

A white van shot up the driveway, blocking Kevin’s escape. He started to scream, but a hand clamped over his mouth.

The person hadn’t gotten out of the van. They’d been waiting in the bushes. Why hadn’t Kevin smelled them?

The bleach.

He was yanked off his feet as the side door whispered open. Then the stranger climbed in, his arm gripped tightly around Kevin’s waist. No sooner had the side door slid shut, than Kevin was tossed to the floor of the van His knee banged against something hard, sending pain shooting up his leg.

“Ow!” Kevin turned over and grabbed his knee, gasping when he saw Kenai lying in an unconscious heap three feet away.

Chapter Seven

Rio scrolled lazily through the kitchen inventory on his phone as he descended the office stairs. The night’s receipts had taken longer than normal to get through. Two had been torn right through the total amount, and his laptop had decided to update while Rio had been filling out the miscellaneous spread sheet.

Luckily, the spreadsheet had saved seconds before.

The quietness downstairs made Rio lower his phone. Even if Kevin and Kanei weren’t engaged in conversation, there should’ve been some kind of noise—fork clinking, chair scraping, or a bored sigh.

Rio had been running Glass Oak for far too long and knew when something was off. He paused and listened, but only heard the low hum of the refrigerator.

The phone screen reflected his own frown back at him.

He walked into the kitchen anyway, absently spinning the phone with his fingers.