Jack, page 10
part #2 of Hunted Shifters Legacy Series
There was a relieved groan barely heard, and Jack listened in as the two began to chat over each other. He used Kit’s voice as his source of comfort while he gathered ingredients, turned on her stove, and began to cook a casual version of fried rice—
“Shit. Damn it.”
That had him pausing.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m gonna kill Aidan,” was all she muttered, right before she told Jack she needed to go and hung up on him. Wondering what was up, Jack finished cooking the rice and took it with a fork to her computer station, eyeing the devices until he finally found the one related to the radio. He tuned in, heard her voice.
“…and tonight, I’ll be giving all sorts of sexy advice for you to ponder! Hang tight and listen in, because this will be one heck of an episode.”
Curiosity getting the best of him, he listened.
Chapter 13
“Now, I’m not an expert when it comes to this matter, but I think there’s only one solution to you getting an erection over porn rather than your girlfriend, Barry.” The alias was as common as they came, but Kit used it like it was his own.
“And what’s that?”
“Talk to her about it,” she suggested, keeping her tone light. “Maybe suggest trying something adventurous in the bedroom, like role-playing. You both need to work this out rather than you hiding it from her. That would just create distance. Do you want that distance, Barry?”
“No, no, I love her.”
“Then go for it. If you think this relationship is worth saving, open up. I hope this helps you, Barry.”
The call ended, and Kit heaved a sigh of relief as she went for a music break. Then she glared at Aidan, who was sitting beside her and screening the calls to be put through. There was a glint in his eye, his cheeks red from the urge not to laugh.
“Very funny, you ass. If you keep that up, I’ll have sex experts with doctorates blasting me on their radio segments. Can you make sure the next caller isn’t going to talk about sex but about love?”
Aidan shook his head, finally giving in to chuckles. “But this is a sexy love segment.”
“Exactly,” she pointed out. “Not horny men jerking off to porn, so tone that down. If we get Michelle’s segment taken off, I’ll tell the boss to dock your pay instead.”
He blanched at that, then finally muttered an okay. As another song was put on, Aidan began screening calls again, then put a caller on hold and promised Kit this was a decent one now.
“How decent?”
“He wants to talk about where to take women out on dates.”
“Oh, okay, then. Screen a female for the next call after that. Then we’re ending this segment. I swear, Michelle’s so badass for keeping a straight voice through this.”
“Three times a week,” Aidan added. “That woman’s a pro.”
The song ended, and Kit entered with her introductory spiel. When Aidan put in the next call, she was ready.
“Our next caller is Danny from Queens, a hardworking man with some very interesting questions about dating. Hello, Danny.”
“Hello, DJ Kit.” The voice was pleasant, warm, and just slightly nervous, as some callers tended to be.
“So, I’ve been told you wanted to talk about where to take women out on dates.”
“Well, yes. Romantic locations.”
“Well, Danny, we have so many restaurants here, and it really depends on a couple of things. Do you have a budget? How formal do you want it to be? Is this a first date scenario?”
She walked him through what he needed, then began to list options located in Queens. She also signaled to Aidan, indicating that there was no time for another caller after all, and this would be the last one. Aidan nodded, fiddling with dials to close the phone lines down.
“I also have another concern, if it’s okay. A confession, actually.”
Kit glanced at the time, calculating and deciding that she could extend this particular call. “Alright,” she teased. “What is this confession about?”
“Dates aren’t the only things I’m interested in when it comes to women.”
Oh, great. Probably another perv. She glanced at Aidan, who raised a brow and shrugged.
“Oh, yeah? What are the other things?”
“I like looking at them. Women are much more fascinating than men when it comes to their softness, their beauty. Their shapes and scents, too.”
Amused and relieved, Kit smiled. “Oh, men are fascinating, too, Danny—at least they are to me.”
Well, one particular man.
She wondered if he listened to her words and if he was still at her home. The idea left her giddy and wanting to book it out of here after this segment, eager to just…be with him. It was a craving deep in her soul, making her feel out of sorts but hyperaware with anticipation at the same time.
“I like those varieties, and I like taking my pick.”
“We all love our varieties and taking our pick, Danny.”
“I like following them when they’re alone.”
The voice was still pleasant, and it took Kit a while to digest the words. Her fingers on the music button stilled.
“Following them?”
“Yes. In fact, I’m following one right now. She’s petite but curvaceous, with tanned skin. It looks like she’s some tourist, with how curious her eyes are. Her dress is red and so pretty.”
Kit straightened, gripping the headphones hard. Beside her, Aidan stirred.
“Danny, when you say follow, where are you following her? On a busy street?”
“Oh, no, not a busy one.” There was a chuckle, almost playful. It had a chill running down her spine. “That takes the fun out of it, doesn’t it, DJ Kit? It’s the dark, desolate streets that are always more fun, and this chick seems bent on going that way.”
Shuffles sounded beside her, and she held up a hand to keep Aidan still.
“Danny, I hate to break it to you, but isn’t that creepy? Come on, now,” she cajoled, letting her voice turn sweet. “We wouldn’t want to have a woman we like frightened, would we? They deserve to be taken out on a date and have a good time, not followed on the streets.”
“But this is more exciting.”
“Danny—”
“If you want in on the fun, come find me. I’ll see you, DJ Kit.”
The call ended, and the sign flashed that they were off the air.
“Holy shit. Holy shit, Kit.”
Ignoring Aidan, who was close to panicking, Kit dialed a number, her fingers trembling.
“911, what’s your—”
“I’m reporting a possible murder.”
* * *
“Other than the live broadcast, is there a record we can have of the event and your conversation with the man?”
“Yes, it’s in the station. I asked my colleague Aidan to forward it to you, and you should have it shortly.”
The cop named Lemuel checked his phone, eyes kind but eternally watchful. Her hands threatened to tangle in her skirt, but she fought the urge and returned the look, battered from all the questions.
Finally, he nodded. “We got it. Thanks for your cooperation, Miss O’Hara. We’ll check into this further, but most likely it was just a prank call. Some of them have no boundaries.”
She nodded in return, her mouth tight. Perhaps she should feel relief that they found nothing, and there was no report of any attack tonight. Instead, she felt antsy, just wanting to get away from there and return to a safe space.
“Can I go now?”
“Yes, you can. Go ahead.”
She was directed out of the cop’s main station, then down the hallway where other cops’ desks were located. Just at the lobby, a familiar figure stepped forward, leaving her dumbfounded.
Then she was stepping into his arms, her relief coming out in a tidal wave.
“Jack, I don’t…”
“It’s fine, I know the whole story,” he said, tone reassuring. “Come on. Let’s get you out of here.”
He did just that, ushering her out of the station and into the streets, where she took a deep inhale of cool night air. A few cops who passed by them greeted him, and he engaged in some quiet chitchat. But for the most part, his attention was on her.
“I’m okay,” she assured, needing to say it more for herself. “Just shaken, but apparently it’s just a false alarm.”
“Yeah.” His hand left her back, and the loss made her feel oddly disappointed. But his next words made her heart leap. “Come on. Let’s get you to one of those places you listed in that very odd segment. We might as well wine and dine tonight.”
“Jack—”
“My treat.”
The quiet support staggered her, and she found herself smiling despite the situation. “Sounds great.”
And it was great, as Jack drove them to the third restaurant she listed on the radio: an Italian spot owned by a sweet old man named Mario, who served pasta in copper plates. Kit twirled the pasta at first, the earlier scenario coming back to mind. Then she remembered Jack’s words.
“Wait. Had you been listening to the whole thing?” she squawked. “Every single bad piece of sex advice?”
“Every single one,” he confirmed, tone serious. But there was a quirk to his mouth, drawing her attention there. “Actually, it wasn’t that bad. You didn’t even panic when Danny made his call, and the callers probably still think it was a prank.”
“Good.” Her mood turned grim. “Our listeners listen to our station for fun. He’s not about to ruin that.”
“He won’t. Don’t let him ruin your night, either. We still have another stop to cheer you up.”
“We do?”
An hour later, that stop turned out to be the biggest mood-lifter of the night, and she found herself grinning as he drove her home while she nibbled on soft, creamy cheesecake bits.
“This is the best dessert ever,” she declared.
“You said that about those tarts,” he reminded.
“Yeah, well, every dessert is incredibly unique,” she shot back. Eyeing her box, she chose another round piece, stretching it over towards him. “Here.”
“I don’t eat—”
“It’s sour fruit on top, and you love your sour. Open up.”
He did, ever so reluctantly and with a slight scowl. But the scowl disappeared at the first bite, and Kit watched as his expression turned pleasantly surprised before delight kicked in and made those ice blue eyes darken. A dark hum fluttered from his throat, close to a groan of approval.
Heat shot up her stomach, so visceral and stark that she could only clutch the box tighter. It nearly crumpled under her grip.
“Okay, you have a point,” he conceded. “Let me have another bite.”
The request was polite, but there was no missing the anticipation vibrating from him. Automatically, her hand fed him the bites he wanted, and he made the same gestures and sounds. Each groan of pleasure pulled at her body until she was thrumming with equal pleasure, and the throbbing in between her legs became so intense that she was could only rub her thighs together.
Not necessarily a good idea, considering just how good it felt, but damn it.
This man should be illegal.
Somewhere along the line, Jack had become her friend—a very attractive one that she wanted to climb like a tree right now.
“That was amazing,” he rumbled, easing the car down to the front of her garage before easing it inside. “Tart, creamy, and thick. I could eat that all day.”
Mouth dry, trying not to whimper, she nodded. “I told you,” she croaked, then cleared her throat. “Sour cheesecakes are where it’s at.”
“So you like sour ones, too?”
Sour-seeming people who are actually sweet on the inside, yes.
“I like all kinds of cheesecake. You know me.”
“Hmm.”
The car’s engine turned off, leaving them slightly in the dark. Kit eyed the shadows of his face, still enough to make her mouth go dry. The longing was unreal, eating at her insides until she was a hot mess.
She tried to swallow it as she looked away, not wanting to ruin their budding friendship. That included trying not to whimper when Jack opened the passenger car door, easing her out and placing his hand on her elbow. It felt like a hot, burning mark.
“I haven’t seen you shift outside of fights,” she blurted out. Her cheeks heated as they descended underground, but he only seemed amused.
“There’s no reason to.”
Downstairs, she studied him. “You don’t get the urge at all?”
“Oh, I do, especially when the full moon’s up. But I’m usually better at controlling myself. It’s a skill honed by years of practice. If I can’t control myself…” He shrugged. “I find a private, empty place away from people. I let it go until I have that control back.”
It was fascinating, but also scary, only making her admire his kind more. She wished she’d met vampires, too—knew the daywalkers weren’t as vicious as the nightwalkers, as they knew how to blend in better with the humans and live normal lives. But maybe not meeting them was for the best, because she was pretty sure her own special ability wouldn’t dissuade them from trying to feed on her.
She was curious, not stupid.
“I need to make some calls, and I know you need to do your segment soon…”
“It’s my day off from my segment tonight,” she said. “You can take the call here.” A hesitation, then, “Actually, you can spend the night here if you want. The couch is available, and I’m sure you have spare clothes because when did you not have spare clothes? Your files are here, and I’ve got some equipment in case you need help, and…”
Realizing she was babbling, Kit promptly shut up and turned hot.
Jack grinned. It was such an open one, making his expression light up that it felt like a strong kick in her stomach. She rubbed her stomach and peered up at him.
“I suppose I can stay here in the meantime, watch out for you…what?”
“You have a very pretty smile.”
Mortification hit her hard, but she wasn’t expecting his reaction: the grin growing wider, those blue eyes gleaming. Lord, did she say he was hot when he was frowning?
This grinning Jack was more potent, deliciously so.
“So do you, Kit…Kitty. Now let’s get downstairs.”
No, no.
This grinning, playful Jack was the most potent one of all.
And she was most likely doomed.
Chapter 14
It became routine for Jack: go home, take a shower, take care of things that needed the use of his personal equipment, then return to Kit’s place and spend most of his working days there. At first, he’d thought it would be a hassle, a distraction that he didn’t need in his life. But he soon began to realize that Kit’s home was a fort: a safe, comforting place of organized chaos, mixing coziness and efficiency and not deterring his work progress at all.
In fact, seeing her in her territory fascinated him, and soon he found himself watching all the little routines she had: her secret work with the clan, her DJ’ing, and the mechanic sideline she still managed to do for the people she cared about.
Also, the programming.
The woman was a damn near genius at it and got paid for individual online projects. But she didn’t love it as much as her other three jobs, which she loved as much as she did her food.
Speaking of food…
“There’s grilled chicken salad if you’re interested. And a caramel latte.”
She was already hunched over her desk, typing so fast that the words were a blur on the screen. After a few minutes, Kit turned off her monitor and stretched her arms in the air, making her shirt stretch over her back. It highlighted her curves and her hair: soft brown now, with bold golden streaks that glinted every time she moved. Belatedly, he realized her shirt was long, and she was wearing tiny cotton shorts below.
His attention shifted to her face when she finally turned in his direction, all excited and fluttering.
“I’m very interested,” she declared. “This is food we’re talking about. And good morning.”
The chirpy greeting had him smiling, and he watched as she began to dig in. Feeling refreshed after his morning run and errands, Jack set up his work on the coffee table, ready to get to the next wave of tasks while Kit prepared for sleep.
Perhaps he should’ve expected routine to be broken at some point in time. But Jack didn’t expect for it to happen now, especially in the form of the garage doorbell ringing.
Especially in the form of a familiar figure showing up on Kit’s monitor screen.
“Who is that?” she asked, wandering over to peer at the screen.
“The detective assigned to the murder case,” he said before standing up. “I’ll take this.”
He went up, not surprised to find the man wandering over to the apartment building lobby, probably to knock on Kit’s decoy apartment unit—one that was mostly filled with dust and old boxes. Before the man could get there, Jack was already approaching him.
“Detective Malkovich.”
“Ah, Mr. Stallone.”
“Jack.”
“Killian, then. I thought I’d find you here.”
That the man was looking for him wasn’t expected, but Jack was careful not to let it show on his face.
“What’s up?”
“Like I said, I thought I’d find you here, which makes it convenient because I was meaning to speak with Miss O’Hara, too.”
“About what?”
“About her involvement in the crimes, of course. Surely that’s also the reason why you’re here.”
Jack didn’t know why, but his back prickled at the thought that Kit was still part of some suspect list.
“She’s not involved. She’s already been cleared twice; she wasn’t at the scene on the third, and the fourth one was a prank call.”
“Yes, but she was still at the scene for some of them, which still makes her involved.”
“Killian—”
“Now, you being here makes things interesting, especially since I’ve heard from a confidential source that you’ve been spending a lot of time here instead of your apartment.”
