Jack, page 5
part #2 of Hunted Shifters Legacy Series
“Actually, no. I’m here to shadow you.”
That had her staring at him, close to stumbling as she stopped in her tracks.
“What for?”
“For your safety.”
At that, her back straightened. “I’m safe enough.”
“I’ll be the judge of that.”
“Stallone—”
“If I can call you Kit, you can call me Jack.”
This time, she gaped. “I…”
“You said we were on friendly terms now.”
“I…” Kit gulped, then lifted her chin—her standard defensive move, it seemed. “I have places to be. Errands to run.”
“Then all the more freedom for me to shadow you.”
“No.”
“Yes. Get in the car, Kit. You look like you’re going to be late, and you’re wasting your time arguing.”
He was right, of course. Frustration sparked fast and hard on her face, right before she glared at him.
Then she stalked to the garage door, muttering something about some bastard and hell.
Trying not to smirk, Jack followed.
* * *
If he thought Kit’s day was going to be a headache, perhaps he shouldn’t have insisted on following her. But it plagued him last night and wouldn’t leave him this morning, and he’d decided there was no better way to spend his day off than this: shadowing the woman who’d been witness to both crimes and sorting out all the evidence in his head as he did so. The lab reports had been run, and the puzzle pieces were there. It was now just a matter of analyzing what the killer’s next move would be. Unfortunately, no fingerprints were found, and none of the items—dagger, nails—had any particular seller anywhere.
So he needed to keep thinking. As it was, she certainly provided a welcome distraction from the way his preoccupied mind was about to explode.
If only she didn’t make it difficult.
Kit’s first stop was a semi-ritzy apartment building in Brooklyn, where she entered the lobby with a manila envelope and left without it. He didn’t ask her questions, simply drove on to the next errand location. And the next.
And the next.
She had five stops just in the morning: the apartment building, a coffee shop, a salon, a clothing shop, and a bakery. Each time, she eased back inside his car with bags of items in hand, showing them to him in an effort to be “open.” Obviously that was deliberate, and he tried to gather patience as she finally opened the box of pastries and presented them to him.
“I don’t eat—”
“These pastries are worth it, and they’re the only things I could get fast for lunch. Unless you want to go ahead and get lunch yourself; I won’t stop you.”
So she wasn’t the type to sneak away, probably because she knew he’d trace her back to her home. Clever girl.
“Pastries sound good enough to me,” he said before reaching for one. To his misfortune, the first was filled with artificial strawberry jelly, making him remember distinctly why he hated most sweets in the first place.
Obviously, Kit knew it.
So he sucked in the complaint and kept eating, relieved when the next was filled with pesto and tomatoes, and the next was filled with cheese. The last one was filled with caramel, and he nearly gagged at how damn sweet it was.
Beside him, Kit made yum noises and happily ate her way through the rest. Yet another surprise: that she ate like an athlete, which was impressive.
She also kept glancing in his direction, watchful.
“I’m full, and that was…wonderful,” he said, unable to resist. He kept his amusement hidden when she grimaced, then beamed at him. Definitely a forced one.
“Well, we’re off to our next stop,” she chirped.
Jack nodded, put the car in gear and followed her directions. The afternoon became a blur of errands, from visiting gadget shops and another visit to the salon, where she came out with her hair braided, weird. Then, more food, all sweet, offering him some and suggesting he could find his own nourishment.
“I can do this all day, Kit,” he replied easily, which had her gritting her teeth.
He ate the food, almost gagged at the pizza topped with hazelnut cream and marshmallows. Preposterous. Afternoon turned to night, and she asked him to park the car in an area just close to her home. It was an old building, one with no signs. They took the stairs to the second floor, and he realized this whole floor was her radio station headquarters.
There was a lobby, but no one at the front desk. A quick glance at the clock on the wall showed ten in the evening before he followed her in, stopping when she stopped outside a glass window separating the DJ room.
She turned to him.
“So this is my last stop, and as you can see, nothing happened to me. My day was uneventful.”
“I’m staying until the end of your shift.”
She stuttered. “But I’m going to be here until late at night. I’m covering for a couple of shifts since a few employees called in sick or are on vacation.”
“Your boss doesn’t have extra employees to cover for them?”
Kit shrugged. “It’s not a big station, and we’re understaffed. I don’t mind covering.”
There she went again, showing him a part of her in her unconscious way. He was beginning to understand that Kit did things not because she needed to, but because she wanted to. Probably loved it, too.
“I don’t mind waiting,” he said after a while.
“They’re not going to let you in, and there are no chairs outside—”
“Then get me in. Find an excuse.”
Silence. Kit narrowed her eyes. “If you say so.”
He didn’t think it would be that easy, which was why he followed her warily. His suspicions bore fruit when inside, Kit greeted the DJ closing his segment by linking her arm through Jack’s, the gesture firm and…affectionate.
“Hey, Aidan. This is my fiancé, Jack Stallone.”
Jack’s body jolted, but she didn’t give him time to react further as she dragged him closer to the lanky fellow. The bewilderment was obvious on the man’s face as his head swiveled from Kit to Jack, then back to Kit.
“You have a fiancé?”
“I know, I know. It’s sudden for us, too,” Kit gushed, squeezing Jack’s arm. She sidled closer, leaned her head on his shoulder…well, his arm, because she couldn’t even reach his shoulder. “We just got to hanging out through a mutual friend and fell in love, and it was magical. He’s gentle and sweet, and he’s a dream to be with.”
Right. Make it as corny as possible. If she expected him to cringe…
Jack slid his arm around her waist, a movement that had her freezing.
“Don’t say it like that,” he admonished gently, going so far as to peck the top of her head. He smirked when her hand squeezed his arm in warning. “I’m not all sweet and gentle, as you’ve become acquainted with my…hard parts.”
A clearing of throat masked the choking sound, and it was remarkable how fast she recovered. In retaliation, she glided her arm over his back, too, hand resting on the center. “He’s a joker, too, did I mention? Anyway, I know it’s against policy, but…”
Aidan waved a hand, getting it. “Go ahead. You have a long shift ahead of you, so you might as well have company.”
“He’ll just sit on the couch and do his thing. He’s a cop,” she announced proudly, then sent Aidan a wink. “Don’t worry. Nothing will happen on the couch. We’re not that naughty.”
This time, it was Jack who almost choked in alarm, though amusement followed at the way Aidan’s cheeks reddened. When the man was gone, he turned to Kit, unsure whether to be displeased or impressed.
He settled for neutrality.
“Touché. That was clever.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said breezily, heading towards the elevated corner where all the DJ equipment was located. Interest had him trailing after her and studying them. Then he studied the closed area they were in, from the walls to the glass windows and doors.
“So you don’t have anyone guarding the building, manning the lobby, and there’s no proper security equipment around here.”
“The front door’s locked, something we often do before we leave someone behind here. Or when we leave. Standard protocol.” Her hands grew busy setting up, typing. “There's a security camera inside here, too. You’re just being paranoid.”
“And you’re too relaxed. You know the real deal. It’s never safe anywhere anymore.”
Kit shrugged. “So far, I’ve survived. And I’m almost always at home, even when I’m working. Today was a rare occurrence.” Her eyes twinkled. “You just happened to witness that rare day.”
“Hmm.”
There was some hesitation as she held on to her headphones. “You can get some dinner, you know. A steak, pizza, whatever you like. I’m not leaving this booth once my segments are on. I can’t.”
“Are you hungry?”
“I’m very full, but you…” She trailed off, her cheeks turning pink. It was the most acknowledgment he was going to get of her attempt to turn him off using sweets.
Oddly enough, it was just amusing now.
“No, I’m fine. Go do your thing. I’ll sit here and read up on my files.”
She didn’t protest, reluctantly nodding instead. Then Kit put on her headphones as the booth alarm softly beeped, and she fired up the connection and the microphone.
“Good evening, ladies and gents, residents of Queens and all of the lands. Tonight’s your lucky night because DJ Kit is in the house, and she’ll make sure you have all your questions answered to your heart’s desire…well, I’ll make sure of it. So hang tight and keep listening as I open the lines later and blast you with great insights and great music. Tonight’s special is embarrassing moments, so get your stories ready.”
She kept going, words snapping smoothly and voice filled with cheer. Kit transformed into DJ Kit, a sassy, cocky female who still managed to sound cute and approachable. It was fascinating, to say the least, as she took in calls—as she connected with her callers, charming them into telling her whatever she needed for each segment.
The hour passed, and he turned his attention to the reports he kept in his coat pocket. He read, analyzed, re-analyzed. The lack of rest in the day—and the last few nights, honestly—finally took its toll, and Jack closed his eyes and let his head rest over the couch’s head.
A nap. Just a quick one.
Chapter 7
“And that’s it for tonight, folks. The callers have spoken, and I part with words of wisdom to get you through the rest of the night: don’t fix it if it ain’t broken. Be fresh, be appreciative, don’t let dissatisfaction cloud your happiness. The grass isn’t always greener on the other side. And now, let me leave you with music to ease your weary hearts. This is DJ Kit signing off. Sweet dreams, my people.”
Kit pressed a button, waiting until the flashing green On Air sign faded. With a sigh of relief, she removed her headphones and rolled her shoulders repeatedly, feeling the tension catch up to her from having sat there for a couple of hours.
But it was fun.
And it was oddly comforting, knowing a certain someone was there.
With a stretch of limbs, Kit stood up from her chair, peeking at that someone now. The position she found him in had her pausing—then, walking over, curiosity getting the better of her. Jack wasn’t exactly lying on the couch, but he was close, probably having started by laying his head on the couch’s headrest and slipping down somewhere along the line. She stopped inches away from him, unsure whether to wake him up or let him rest for a bit.
Kit hesitated.
Then, unable to resist, she leaned in further, wanting to see his face up close.
It was unfair how handsome the man was, even in this state. Possibly more, considering his features were soft from sleep and he wasn’t frowning. She wondered if he had a mood like this, wondered if he was always hard and unrelenting. But he confounded her today with his patience: giving in to her ridiculous stops, never once snapping at her over her deliberate antics.
It was…heartwarming.
The man was slick, too—catching on to her attempts at making him leave in embarrassment, even coming up with his own wayward to one-up her.
“I’m not all sweet and gentle, as you’ve become acquainted with my…hard parts.”
Her cheeks heated up, a knee-jerk reaction that spread over her body. Unbidden, her gaze strayed down to his body, taking in the broad shoulders his clothes couldn’t quite hide, the flat, trim torso that she’d bet was hard as a rock…the thighs, stretching his black pants, wonderfully wide and easy to straddle—
Hold your horses, now. Get a grip.
This was all his fault. He should’ve stayed in his lane, left her alone. He should not have pulled her further to his side earlier, where she felt just how firm that body was…
One thigh jerked, and her eyes flew up guiltily. She stared when she found him still sleeping, then stared some more when she realized he no longer looked peaceful. Jack’s brows were furrowed, a drop of sweat glistening down his forehead.
When he let out a pained grunt, Kit reacted immediately, tapping his shoulders. Then, shaking them. He didn’t wake up, muttering something so low in tone. A second later, he jerked, rolling towards the edge of the couch and in danger of toppling over to the floor.
Again, she reacted, pushing him back with all her strength. He barely budged, but his eyes did snap open, dazed and confused but very haunted. It had her freezing—which was why when his hands wrapped around her elbows and yanked, she wasn’t able to fight it and came tumbling back to the couch with him.
Thankfully, her hands went to his shoulders before she was sprawled all over him and embarrassing herself.
“You were having a nightmare,” she blurted out before he could attack. His claws were already out. “I tried waking you up, but you wouldn’t budge, and you were rolling to the floor and about to fall, so I had to push you, which made you wake up—”
Kit clamped her mouth shut when he looked up, ice blue eyes in full effect. But they weren’t mad. Eventually, the claws retreated, and she heaved a sigh of relief. The adrenaline swooped out and vanished, awareness replacing it as she realized just how…precarious their position was.
“Yeah. I had a nightmare.”
His voice was still rough from sleep, and so deep. She gulped.
Then Kit was the one scrambling off him and clearing her throat repeatedly as her heart beat fast. Some sort of tingle ran up her spine, too, one that made it difficult to get in air.
Thankfully, Jack was too preoccupied, rubbing his face with his hands and trying to get his bearings to notice her shaken state. It gave her time to calm herself down, which was her current state when he finally looked up.
“You’re done.”
It looked like he wasn’t going to talk about it. Fine.
“Yes. I think we both need to go home. You and me separately.”
As expected, he didn’t voice out a protest.
“I’ll drive you home. Then I’ll leave you alone.”
* * *
The idea formed the moment she woke up, and she stewed on it as she let herself relax on her couch for a few more minutes. Last night had been brutal, as she’d scouted the frequencies again and came up empty-handed. But it was a relief as well.
She showered, dressed, got herself together, and made sure all her other tasks were done.
Then Kit called Jack.
“Can you come over when you’re available?”
“What’s wrong?”
“Just come here, please.”
She didn’t have to wait long as Jack was standing in front of her garage door twenty minutes later. Kit took some time to admire his outfit—fitted black slacks, a white shirt that stretched over his tight chest, and a black, unbuttoned jacket—before she went up, meeting him in the garage.
“What’s wrong?” he repeated.
“Do you have work today?”
“Yes, but not police work. I’m doing my business errands.”
Perfect.
She beamed at him.
“Good. Then I’m returning the favor and shadowing you.”
“What—”
“Come on. You look like you’re going to be late, and you’re wasting your time arguing.”
It was victorious to have stupefied silence trail after her as she got in his car, waiting cheerfully until he finally got in the driver’s seat. Even then, he stared at her as if she were crazy but didn’t outright call her that.
She was starting to learn that Jack wasn’t a hardass if he didn’t need to be.
“I fail to see what this is for, Kit.”
She bit back a grin. “Protection.”
“I don’t need—”
“My protection. Last night I couldn’t sleep.”
He blinked. “Couldn’t sleep.”
“Yes. I want one more day with you to feel perfectly safe, and then I’ll be fine. You wouldn’t push away a helpless woman just wanting reassurance, would you?”
Unable to resist, Kit fluttered her lashes for extra pleading effect, and she had the delight of hearing him sigh before he flexed his hands on the steering wheel. God, that was sexy.
“You’re hardly helpless,” was the muttered response, so low that she had to stifle a snicker. Kit stared ahead but glanced at him when the car started moving.
“So where are you going?”
“Like I said, errands. You’ll see.”
That got her, and it was all she could do not to pester him with more questions. A few minutes later, he stopped the car and slid out, entering a mansion in Brooklyn and striding out without a word—and without an item in hand—after some substantial time. And that became the pattern: park the car, enter, exit, until the lack of explanation began to grow on Kit’s nerves, and she wanted to explode with questions. She considered it a challenge as she clamped her mouth shut, but the next one proved to be more…challenging.
A box of treats was in Jack’s hand after his fourth stop, one he presented to her. She gawked at the square jellies, black in color and looking…off.
