“What the hell now, Roman? It’s the middle of the goddamn night.”
I freeze, unsure what to say. Roman saves me from having to respond.
“I’ve got him,” he calls over his shoulder, loud enough for Dragon to hear. “At Kayla’s.”
There’s a beat of silence on the other end.
“On my way,” Dragon responds, his tone completely changed. The call ends abruptly.
“Well, isn’t this just heartwarming,” Kit drawls from his position on the floor. “The gang’s all getting back together.”
“Shut up,” Roman snaps.
Kit just grins. “You know I always thought you were one of the duller knives in the drawer, Roman. I must say, this isn’t doing anything to improve my opinion of you.”
“I said shut up.”
“Make me,” Kit taunts, a twisted smile playing at his lips despite his current position. “So, Roman, are you going to answer your lovely wife’s question, or are you afraid to let her know what you’re really capable of?”
Roman’s jaw tightens visibly. I watch the muscle jump beneath his skin.
“Oh, I’m sorry. That was the wrong word. Ex-wife is what I meant to say.” Kit’s smile widens as he emphasizes the word. “Does that still sting, Roman? Knowing you lost her? Knowing she’s gone and she’ll never be yours again?”
“I said shut up,” Roman hisses.
“It didn’t feel good, did it?” Kit continues, his voice taking on a softer, more venomous quality. “To know your woman is in danger and not be able to help her. Not even knowing where she is. Knowing you’d give your life for her in a heartbeat and it making no difference at all.”
Roman shifts his weight, pressing Kit harder into the floor. “Demon, I swear to God—“
“What’s wrong, Roman?” Kit cuts him off. “Don’t want sweet Kayla to know that you’re a fucking murderer—“
“I didn’t fucking kill her!” Roman roars, the sudden explosion of rage making me flinch. His whole body trembles with it, the gun wavering slightly against Kit’s temple.
Kit goes utterly still beneath Roman, something flickering across his face that looks almost like hope before it goes blank again. “I don’t believe you.”
I stand in the middle of my kitchen, arms wrapped around myself, feeling like I’ve stumbled into a foreign film without subtitles. None of this makes sense.
“Can someone please tell me what’s going on?” I finally ask.
“No,” Roman and Kit answer in unison, then glare at each other.
Before I can respond to that, there’s a sharp knock at my front door. I jump, my nerves already frayed to the breaking point. Roman nods toward the living room.
“That’ll be Dragon,” Roman says. “Go let him in.”
I pad through the living room, conscious of the fact that I’m wearing nothing more than my sleep shorts and a tank top. It’s when I open the door that I get another shock. The man standing in front of me could be Kit’s doppelganger. They both have the same blonde hair, the same eerie golden-green eyes, the same beautiful face. The only difference is this man’s hair is longer and instead of a scar, his face is covered by a neat beard. Twins, I realize with a start.
“Kayla,” Dragon nods, taking in my disheveled appearance. “May we come in?”
I step aside wordlessly. Dragon is flanked by the dark haired man who was here earlier and several other men, all of them wearing cuts with the same snarling dragon that’s tattooed on Roman’s back.
I lead them to the kitchen, where Roman still has Kit pinned.
“Let him up,” Dragon says, his voice calm but leaving no room for argument.
Roman hesitates, then slowly removes the gun from Kit’s temple and stands, backing away but keeping the weapon trained on him. Kit sits up, rolling his shoulders and cracking his neck with exaggerated relief.
“For the record,” Kit says, climbing to his feet with feline grace, “I totally could have gotten you off me. I just didn’t feel like it.”