Page 18 of How Much For a Life of Lies?

Who am I kidding? I already knew the story as soon as he’d told me Clarke was like his dad.

“You were a kid when the same things happened to you as the kids in those photos? How old were you?” I said, because I couldn’t think of what else to say. I felt sick.

He dropped his hand, then shrugged. “Doesn’t matter if I was a kid, a teenager, or aged out. I grew up in a place like this. They were anti-freaking-everything apart from being pro whatever happened to the kids there. You need to know I played the game until I got a gun and could run.” He cracked his neck and grimaced. “I ended up at a shelter, got help, enlisted, blah blah. Over it now.”

He wasn’t over anything. Was this why he was so reckless? Was he constantly racing from what had happened in the past? Is this why he never showed respect or followed orders? Why wasn’t this on his eval?

“And your father had the same network, hurt… the kids?” Hurt you?

He closed his eyes. “Yeah. Until I killed him.”

An ugly knot of anger coiled in my belly, my chest tight. I wanted to kill. The urge to track down every son of a bitch who’d placed a hand on Kai was so strong it was acid burning me inside, and I needed a plan of action, a way to make things right.

“How many of your dead father’s friends are left?” I blurted.

He blinked at me. “Why?”

“So I know who to kill.”

There was another pause, and I watched his expression smooth out, from confusion to a mask of indifference, then humor. “Aw, you coming to my rescue?”

“How many, Kai?” I wasn’t letting this go.

“Jesus. None, okay? They’re gone.” He stopped, but I knew there was more to this story. “They died in a fire.” I read between the lines that maybe he’d had something to do with the fire. It didn’t faze me as I imagined him dealing out retribution for children who had been hurt. “Whatever,” he continued. “I saw Clarke’s bio, and the victim statements and photos, and then the room, and it was as if I was back there again…” He rubbed at his chest.

“So had you planned to kill him before we went in?” Did I blame him even if he did?

There was that frown again. “No. That would come down on you, and… no. I meant to bring him in. I never meant to kill him, but then…”

“You saw red, recalled everything he reminded you of, and killed him,” I said, and pulled out my phone as he nodded, connecting to the secure line.

“Ops,” Simon answered, and I pictured him sitting with Cain, surrounded by screens, on the top floor of the Chicago office. I liked Simon and Cain both, but Simon was a former cop and there were never any gray areas in his reports from scenes. He was our handler, and given we had body cams, he would have seen it all, and no doubt reported everything right up to Jake at the top of the tree.

“The target resisted with force,” I reported.

Simon sighed. “It’s not that easy.”

I held my temper—this wasn’t Simon’s fault, but there was no way Kai was paying for taking out the worst kind of human. “Connect the dots between Agent Henderson, his childhood, and the damn target. Then pass this information straight up to Jake.” I paused for a moment, with my gaze fixed on Kai, then repeated the line. “The target resisted with force. We retaliated.”

“Hold.”

I heard tapping, then there was silence, and opposite me, Kai seemed to curl in on himself, as if maybe the adrenaline had left him and now he was shaky, not from the kill, but from the target he’d had to face.

The comm crackled with static. “Subject resisted, with force, unfortunate conclusion,” Simon summarized. “Jake says you’re expected back in Chicago in ten days. Both of you. Take the time. Comm out.”

Kai’s shoulders sagged with relief, a hint of gratitude in his eyes that quickly vanished.

“Let’s focus on getting out of here in one piece.” I used the bed to stand, then extended a hand to help him, but let him go when he was upright.

“Where?” Kai asked when we neared the SUV and I stopped so abruptly that he nearly walked into me. “Zach?” He sounded fucked, so vulnerable, wounded.

What if Sanctuary took our defense and ignored it and instead contacted authorities that could arrest Kai?

We had a safe house in place, but we needed something else, and there was only one place I could think of going.

“I hate this place,” Kai groused for the tenth time. As much as he bitched, we needed this quiet place in Johnson Valley, a couple of hundred miles outside San Diego. I’d bought the house ten years ago, when I fancied myself settling down one day, and the small town had a decent pizza place.

It was also closer to Jax, but that was a story for another day, and one I owed Kai at some point.

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