Page 121 of Kai
“Even monsters fall under the rules of the Geneva Convention.”
This was Kai for you, a lethal warrior who operated on principles.
I wasn’t nearly as disciplined or as evolved as he was. “He’s a piece of shit. Has killed so many. He tried to kill you. He deserves all the pain in the world.”
“Dealing with monsters doesn’t change who I am.” Kai wrapped the man’s ribs. “In fact, it reminds me I don’t wanna turn into a beast like him.”
Leave it to Kai to teach me a lesson without entering a classroom or opening a book. He was right, of course, but when I thought of those marks, of every man, woman, and child that they represented, my fury flared and my reasoning dimmed.
“I’m tired of you being the better person all the time,” I grumbled, although I handed him a gauze pad. “Can you please be a normal asshole with rage issues like me?”
“I think we’ve established that I’m a normal asshole carrying a whole lot of shit in my bags.” His lips twitched as he bandaged the big gash on Dipshit’s head. “Besides, you may have issues, but you’re not an asshole.”
“Fine.” I grabbed some clean gauze and disinfected some of the man’s nicks and scrapes. “Go ahead, be the better person every time. I don’t aspire to the title. You can have it.”
“I appreciate your generosity.” Kai chuckled. “Also, your kindness and humor.”
“I’mnotgenerous,” I snapped, but by now Kai was laughing openly. “I’mnotkind, and dark humor doesn’t count. Don’t make me into someone I’m not.”
“A scientist in search of a cure for a deadly disease,” Kai droned on while he continued his work. “A good woman who fights for her loved ones and stands against injustice. A beloved sister and a steadfast friend. A solid partner and an adored lover. And yet she can’t handle praise.”
I rolled my eyes, but I drank his praise like sand sucked in water. Not only did Kai’s compliments please me, but they also built me from the inside out.
“It’s gonna be a while before this fucker wakes up.” He finished patching the merc and pushed up to his feet with a grunt. “I wanna secure him inside.”
Between us, we dragged the unconscious merc into the main cabin, sat him against a wall, and fastened him to a corner post with more heavy-duty zip ties, ropes, and duct tape. Between his restraints and his wounds, Dickface was going nowhere fast.
Once we’d trussed Levine, Kai and I agreed on a plan of action. It involved the good cop, bad cop routine, and a push forkey information. By the time Kai ensured Levine couldn’t hurt us or himself, dawn painted the sky with fuchsia and orange streaks, announcing the new day.
“Last day at the cove.” I ambled to the window and took a moment to appreciate the cove’s extraordinary beauty. “This is not how I wanted to spend it.”
“Me, neither.” Even Kai’s adorable dimples looked tired when he smiled at me.
“We leave tonight.” I breathed a long exhale. “I’m going to miss these views, this place.”
“We can come back.” Daylight highlighted the hope in his eyes. “As many times as you like.”
An honest smile bloomed on my lips. Since when had I treasured promises? Since I met Kai. Another look at him, and my smile withered. The exhaustion stamped on his face marred his features. Even his copper skin had lost its sun-kissed glow.
He slid the gun out of my pocket, checked the mag, and returned it to me. “Keep it with you. I need to go below deck for a sec. Watch the merc. If he wakes up and makes any moves beyond blinking, shoot him. Understand?”
“Got it.” I sat down on a chair facing the merc with my gun in my hand.
Kai ambled to the stairs and disappeared into his berth. Something about his countenance niggled at me. Had I ever seen him so tired?
My eyes drifted to a trail of red drops. I’d seen the bloody smudges before on the deck as we worked on Levine. I’d assumed they came from the merc. But now, I tracked the blood across the room and to the steps. My heart skipped a beat.
Thump.
A dull crash drifted from Kai’s berth. I glanced at Levine, confirmed he was still out, and rushed to the hull.
“Kai?” I called out as I entered the room, following thetrail of blood.
No reply.
I found him sprawled on the bathroom floor. A surge of fear iced my bones as I knelt next to him. His eyes were closed, and his pallor had turned to a sickly gray. His tactical vest lay on the floor. He’d folded his wetsuit at the waist, exposing his bare torso. An angry line marred his chest, gaping at an angle near his shoulder. The wound was bleeding.
Chapter Thirty-nine
