Page 8 of Rival for Rent

He flexed his hand around Bella’s collar, and for a second, I thought maybe he had. But no—it was probably just a static shock. Or the humidity. Or terrible karma. Pick your poison.

“So, do you not actually need someone tonight, or are you—”

“Just go, Mason,” Kai said. He guided Bella inside, shaking his head and giving me one last scathing look. “Just go.”

The problem was, I couldn’t.

I’d taken the job, which meant Kai was getting billed for tonight. I didn’t know all the ins and outs of Dana’s business, but I knew that much. He ordered a service—he should get what he paid for.

Sure, I could’ve gone home, and Dana might’ve refunded him. But then I’d have to explain why, and I couldn’t even explain it to myself. The way Kai reacted to seeing me had left me stunned. And the thought of describing that reaction to someone else filled my chest with something that felt an awful lot like shame—an emotion I liked to shove into a mental shoebox and kick under the bed with the rest of my bad decisions.

I couldn’t believe Dana hadn’t told me it was Kai who called. She knew him as well as I did—maybe better. We’d all been in the same grade, but she and Kai were in the honors track. Had she not realized it was him? Or had she decided not to tell me on purpose?

I’d have to ask her. Later. Because I wasn’t going home yet—and not just because I’d showered and dragged myself out of the house for this.

This wasn’t a date. Kai had asked for a bodyguard. That implied he needed protection. And even if I didn’t know the details, I couldn’t in good conscience walk away. If he was in trouble—worried enough to want backup—then I owed it to him to be that backup. Even if he didn’t want to see me.

Luckily, there were cabs all over that part of Georgetown, so I flagged one at the end of his block and asked the driver to idle while I watched the house. Two minutes later, a black town car rolled up to Kai’s door. He stepped out, still in that tux, and tossed something—probably a dog treat—back inside before pulling the door shut.

“Follow that car,” I told the cabbie.

He gave me a look like, ‘You serious? What is this, a spy movie?’ I ignored it. If this turned into a low-speed, high-regret car chase, so be it.

I’d spent years in the field on missions, and I’d developed a sixth sense for danger that I’d never managed to turn off. It started with a prickling in my gut, spreading out through my chest and arms, then farther. I’d learned to trust it. And right now, my whole body was prickling.

Whatever Kai was dealing with, I wasn’t about to let him deal with it alone.

We followed the town car across the city. Sometimes traffic lights separated us, but I never lost sight of him completely. DC traffic was bad enough that we all crawled along. Eventually, the car reached Chinatown and pulled up outside the Trevi Theater.

As soon as Kai stepped out of the car, I tossed twice the fare at the cab driver and leapt out after him. I didn’t have the money to throw around—being unemployed and all that—but I didn’t have time to wait for change.

I considered catching up to Kai before he went inside, but thought better of it. He didn’t want to see me. And if he really was in danger, the last thing I needed to do was cause a scene. Instead, I let the theater crowd sweep him inside and lingered near the steps.

I was clearly underdressed. Everyone else heading in wore suits or gowns. One guy was in a white tux. The most casual person I saw was a woman in a cocktail dress so short, I wondered how she’d sit down in it. But that wasn’t my problem.

My problem was getting past the ticket taker.

“Ticket?” the guy said as I reached him.

He wore a green velvet jacket with gold tassels and looked like a toy soldier. All he needed was one of those Buckingham Palace guard hats, and possibly a bayonet to run me through for showing up too poorly attired.

“Left my phone at home,” I said, patting my pockets like I was looking for it. I’d seen people scanning QR codes. “But my companion already went in. Kai Jacinto. There should be two tickets under his name.”

I hoped there were. If Kai had been planning to bring a bodyguard, that might’ve been part of the reservation.

The guy blinked. “Mr. Jacinto? But he just went in. He said it would only be—”

“I didn’t think I’d make it,” I cut in. “Had to rush. Obviously.” I gestured to my outfit, which he eyed with visible judgement.

“Why don’t you call him?” he said. “If Mr. Jacinto comes back down to escort you—”

“Forgot my phone,” I reminded him.

I didn’t even have Kai’s number. And if I did, I doubted he’d pick up. But something about the way the ticket taker said ‘Mr. Jacinto’ gave me an idea.

“You really want me to bother him?” I asked, raising an eyebrow like he should know better. “Mr. Jacinto’s a big patron. You don’t want to fuck up his night.”

The guy blinked. “But my boss said he’s a guest of—”

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