Chapter Thirteen

Danny

Shae went from fear to defeat in barely a second as he gazed at Kane. "How'd you know?"

I could understand the question. He'd had his face covered. "I'm good with details," Kane replied easily. "You wore the same jeans at the gas station." Good explanation without giving anything away. "Besides," he said. "You kind of just confirmed it."

I chuckled, hoping to relax Shae, and he managed a rueful smile before it fell. "What happens now?"

Kane glanced at me and, knowing he wouldn't be certain of Shae's welcome outside of any information he could give us, I took the lead.

"Well, if you were a regular I'd say you'd need around ten days to heal that wound, but in general enhanced heal faster." I looked at him hopefully in case he was going to give me anything, but he didn't. "Which means you stay here at least while that's happening." Kane looked relieved but Shae didn't.

"And then?"

"When are you eighteen?" I could pull it up, but we were talking.

He flushed. "Saturday."

"Yeah?" Kane grinned.

"Well, that makes it even easier," I said. "That means you can live where you want, without checking in with your dad." Shae looked firmly at the sheet that was covering him.

Kane nudged his leg to get Shae's attention. "Am I right in thinking you don't wanna call your dad? Maybe because of whatever you can do when he robs someone?"

Panic flashed in Shae's eyes, and I cursed Kane, mentally thinking he'd pushed him too far. But then, as if someone had pulled a plug, any remaining fight went out of the boy. "He doesn't know. He just uses me because the gang thinks I might become useful and it's like he has an ace up his sleeve, ya know?"

"I know exactly," Kane said with feeling. "I didn't tell the bastard who called himself my father, either."

I hid my smile as Shae looked at Kane like he held the moon. But according to Ringo, he'd demonstrated speed in the ring, so was he talking about another ability? And I wasn't sure if he knew he'd let that slip.

"Is that why you helped me, then?" Shae touched his cheek to explain. "What do you actually do?"

"Seeing you this morning was a complete coincidence," Kane said. "I just got a new job with these guys in private security and the guy I was with was showing me the gym they use. We weren't expecting there to be any fights."

"They're usually Friday nights," I supplied.

Shae nodded. "Yeah, I wouldn't have known if I hadn't gotten a text."

"A text?" Kane asked before I could. Shae nodded.

"All previous fighters are always notified if there's a fight run so we can be there."

Which made the whole thing sound more and more like a setup. "What did the text say?"

Shae thought. "Match at ten. Champ takes all comers inc superman." I grinned but didn't share the joke.

"Meaning us?" Kane asked. "But he looked like he was a late entry." Kane mused, as if it hadn't been a question.

"It didn't give names," Shae confirmed, "just someone willing to fight us." Meaning enhanced. There had been so much segregation in America's past—and that was putting it so lightly it was insulting—and yet we never learned because here was another one.

"And was the text unusual?"

"Definitely for enhanced," Shae said. "Fridays occasionally, if we're lucky."

"We?" Kane asked. "I only saw you."

Shae nodded. "I was surprised there was only me. There's at least two other enhanced that go there to fight. Guess I was the only one who could turn up."

All the hairs on the back of my neck were standing at attention, so much that Sergeant Major Thacker would have been proud. It was wrong. Everything inside me was screaming it was wrong, but why would Karlo want to target an enhanced? The wound wasn't enough or in the right place to kill. None of it made sense.

"So, I don't want you worrying about being here," I continued. Diesel would want to speak to him, but I needed to speak to Diesel first. Shae yawned. "Are you hungry? Thirsty?"

He shook his head. Not that I was about to offer him much except soup, but he might feel better if he ate. "Then how about you get some more sleep? When you wake, we can tell you more about what we do, and talk about what you want to do when you feel better." His eyes were already closing as I checked his dressing and IV and decided he was okay on his own.

Kane followed me into the kitchen, and I filled the kettle automatically. We both heard the door open and by Sadie's complete disinterest, I knew it was Diesel. Attuned to body language as I was, I felt rather than saw Kane stiffen warily and for the first time my heart hurt for him. I'd gone from suspicion and resentment to tolerating him to some sort of compassion in the blink of an eye.

Did the almost-kiss cause that? Or was that a result? On a totally theoretical level, I knew I had distanced myself. Once upon a time, both before and after I'd been captured, I'd have been attracted to Kane. Aesthetically he was big, strong. Emotionally protective, as he'd demonstrated with me when I'd had the panic attack and with Tony. Withdrawn, obviously, because his trust issues were naturally a huge part of him, and…was he even gay? In the whole ten seconds before I had panicked, he'd kissed me back, or tried to. Well, he hadn't been repulsed or tried to hit me. But maybe he was in shock? He'd been inside since he was sixteen and from the sound of it, his life before that wouldn't have involved dating. Did that make him desperate? Me an experiment? Not that I blamed him.

In a lot of ways, the same could be said of me. Well, not the gay thing. That had always been nailed on, but when I got out, I was a completely different person. Probably Kane felt the same way.

It was like we'd both been in prison. But Kane had been there half his life. By comparison, my three months were pitiful.

"How's Shae doing?" Diesel asked as he walked in, setting two paper sacks down on the table.

I filled him in briefly on Shae's medical status while I emptied what Diesel had brought and knew he'd been to the small Italian restaurant, which was about the only place I would eat takeout from.

"This is from Mama Imalfi's," Diesel said to Kane as he got plates and silverware out. "Been eating there twenty years, on and off. Her son is the only other one she lets run the kitchen and that only happened once she passed eighty."

I watched Kane stiffen slightly and knew he didn't like having his food issues pointed out, even though I knew Diesel was trying to reassure him. "I can eat their food and I'm not a fan of eating out," I offered softly, not sure if it would help. I'd hardly given him a reason to trust me.

Kane pinned me with his gaze and weirdly I seemed to hold my breath as if I was waiting for a decision. Kane broke the stare and sat his ass down at the table. I followed after getting the tea and the water. Diesel didn't stand on ceremony, just helped himself to the huge pan of tomato rigatoni, some salad, and tore off a large piece of garlic bread.

I reached out without even looking at Kane and helped myself, then I just left the dish in the middle. I didn't push it toward him or make a comment. You could lead a horse to water and all that.

Diesel swallowed his mouthful and glanced at me. "I might have found someone willing to do the prison gig."

"Yeah?" I asked casually, knowing Kane's gaze was laser-focused, and danced internally as he served himself some pasta.

"Basil Cartwright. Petty criminal. Got himself in debt and has a sick mom. Willing to do what we need for a clean slate." I frowned, but Kane beat me to it.

"Petty won't get him where we need him to be."

Diesel shrugged. "Beggars and all that. We can beef it up a little. Point is that he will report in."

"Enhanced?"

"Regular," Diesel answered.

I could see Kane struggle with the answer and damn Diesel for guilting him. Diesel glanced at Kane. "Look, I don't blame you for not wanting to go back inside. Of course I don't. But the thing is, we need to continue with the op. This isn't a guilt thing. It's a business thing. If my original idea won't work, I have to come up with alternatives. That's what I do."

Kane gazed at him for a couple of seconds, then nodded. "Which prison?"

"We don't know yet. There are four suspects. Hancock, Ware, Macon, and Montgomery."

"Which are medium or top security," Kane said, disbelief coloring his words. "How's a petty criminal getting in there?"

"With help," Diesel said. "We'd appreciate you talking to him before he goes inside."

Kane jerked his chin in agreement, but it didn't take a mind-reader to know he wasn't happy. But I suppose any solution to getting intel from inside was a bad one. None of this was good. Diesel's business was really specialized. We weren't mall cops. We weren't anything in plain sight. The people who hired our services definitely stayed in the shadows, and I knew that because of my role. We didn't just skirt the line, we often pole-vaulted over it, and I could live with that. Diesel was always about the greater good, it was just how he arrived at that good that was a circuitous and often dodgy route.

"I think," I said, drawing the word out and trying to get my thoughts together, "that what happened at the gym is something deeper. I'm not saying it's connected, but—" I proceeded to tell Diesel what Shae had told us.

"You think the only enhanced that got the text was Shae? That he was set up?"

I nodded. "I can check his phone records and do some digging. Try to find the origin and who else got the message. The trouble is, I have no idea from names and numbers who's enhanced and who isn't."

"It's a start though," Kane said thoughtfully, his agreement shocking me. "The whole thing was weird. Like you said, why would a seven-time champion cut off that source of income?"

"If he got a better offer," Diesel said, "or one he couldn't refuse. Ringo's trying to locate him so we can have a chat."

"Shae also has another ability," I said reluctantly, feeling like I was betraying Kane. Diesel glanced at me but carried on eating. "He said his dad didn't know, but everyone in the ring saw how fast he was, which means there has to be something else."

Kane didn't comment but he was eating

All three of our phones sounded. Kane looked confused because he wouldn't know that was the signal for the outside bell to the building calling our apartments. I pulled my phone out, as did Diesel, and we both inhaled sharply.

"What is it?" Kane asked.

I stared at the guy showing me a detective's badge through the camera. The other guy and the two uniformed cops stood next to him and stared at the camera.

"Let ‘em in," Diesel said.

We had no choice. Detective Titus and Detective Almeda came up. To my shock I knew Almeda from school of all places. Not that either of us acknowledged it. The uniforms stayed at the entrance.

They produced a search warrant, and I knew we were fucked.

To say I didn't care for Titus was putting it mildly. They immediately called for a medical team for Shae, but then we all listened in disbelief as Shae was read his rights, after they grilled Kane as to why he hadn't been taken to the ER.

Kane just said calmly that it tended to upset the public to see one of them in certain public places, and Titus grunted. I wasn't sure if that was an acknowledgement or an opinion.

"But I was here with him all the time," I said for the tenth time.

I guessed it was to do with Karlo or Karlo Andreev, as he was named.

"My attorney will be here by the time Shae gets there," Diesel said.

"I'm sure," Titus said, sounding bored. They started to walk out and completely out of character, I grabbed Almeda's arm.

"Tracey," I hissed. "What the fuck? Karlo's missing?"

She stared at me, and I knew the hit I'd taken for her at school registered. She'd been plain, bullied. I might have been nerdish and the same, but her grades were on a downward spiral and the tutoring I did in private got her through.

"He's not just missing," she hissed and followed the paramedics out.

Which meant he was dead. And the cops wanted Shae, or one of us, for a murder charge.