This title is in transition.
©2008 Jet Mykles, all rights reserved
Moonlight streaming through the den’s windows was all the light Kyle needed. His nimble fingers set the tumblers in motion, flicking the dial until the proper click sounded, then spinning the dial in the opposite direction. Then there was a chunk, and Kyle’s fingers stopped. He grinned. Finally! He opened the safe door and shone his penlight inside and…
They weren’t there! He reached inside, carefully lifting the few items within the safe, but there were no documents anywhere in the small compartment.
That was impossible! For a moment, he gaped in disbelief at the safe’s interior. The papers had to be in there. He’d seen Quince put them there himself just this afternoon. Why would the boss take them back out? But they certainly weren’t there, and the whole reason for this escapade was gone. Mind reeling in confusion, Kyle closed the safe and replaced the small framed photograph that hid it from view. Now what?
A hand clamped over his mouth as an arm snaked around his chest. Kyle froze in shock. His penlight dropped to the floor with a muffled thunk.
“What do you think you’re doing here?” a voice demanded softly against his ear. The knitted cap he wore over his head heated from the breath.
He didn’t struggle as a much bigger body hauled him back from the wall into the middle of the dark room. He could see the shadows of the furniture just fine and chanced a glance at the mirror over the bar to the right. He and his captor were silhouetted against the window. The man was a full head and shoulders taller than him. Short, straight hair gleamed bright blue in the moonlight.
Oh no! It wasn’t…
“Stupid little shit.” The low voice sounded more amused than upset as the bigger man set Kyle properly on his feet and spun him around.
Kyle looked up and couldn’t help but gasp. Seth. There was no mistaking the older man’s angular face and the almost sneering smile. The intense blue of his deep-set eyes was hidden in the shadows of his sharp brows. That white-blond hair shone an eerie blue in the moonlight, hanging loose and straight from the crown of his head to his chin and in unruly bangs over his eyes to the tip of his nose. For a brief moment, Kyle could only stare in awe at the perfection that was Seth, even in his anger.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
Kyle flinched, tearing his eyes from Seth’s beauty as his mind raced. He’d had stories ready for if he got caught, but none for someone catching him with his hand in the safe. Especially not Seth. The very presence of the man sent Kyle’s thoughts into turmoil.
Seth bought Kyle a moment by reaching up with one long-fingered hand and snatching off the knit cap that covered his entire head. He blinked as his tousled, wavy brown hair fell in his eyes. He reached up to clear his vision, only to have the cap thrown in his face. He caught it mostly on instinct.
“Be glad it was me who caught you, stupid shit. What were you after? Or were you just practicing?”
“Yeah.” Kyle anxiously latched on to the excuse given him. “Practicing.”
“Wrong. And you’re such a bad liar. How Quince thinks he can make a thief of you, I have no idea.”
Seth’s hand clamped over Kyle’s mouth again. The scent of the clove cigarettes Seth smoked assailed Kyle’s nostrils. He closed his eyes, head swimming as a simmering fire tickled his skin at Seth’s touch. Not now! he willed his body. Why did he have to be caught by the one man, the one person, who always managed to keep him off his game?
Seth leaned in, almost as if he would kiss Kyle. “Do you want someone to hear? Shut up!”
He straightened, dropping his hand. Kyle hastily backed up against the bar, putting some distance between them. Like Kyle, Seth was dressed in all black. A long-sleeved T-shirt hugged every lean, muscular curve of his torso and arms, and blacker-than-black jeans encased those long legs. A pair of gloves was tucked in his waistband.
Seth gave him a nasty grin. Making eye contact with Kyle, he reached into his back pocket and brought out a slim envelope. He held it up between two elegant fingers. “Looking, perhaps, for this?”
Kyle’s eyes went wide. He grabbed before he could think about it, but Seth nimbly snatched it out of his reach.
Desperate, Kyle dismissed any pride. The hand that had missed the envelope landed on Seth’s chest. He dug his fingers into hard muscle, gathering shirt. “Please,” he begged, meeting Seth’s gaze. “I need those.”
Seth’s cruel grin faltered. Something…else flickered in those shadowed eyes before the grin was drawn back into place. “You beg so pretty, Kyle.”
Kyle gritted his teeth, ignoring the warmth that surged through his blood at the comment. He thumped Seth’s chest, still gripping shirt. “Seth, please. I’m desperate. You gotta help me.”
“Please! Just give them to me. Those can’t do anything for you.”
Seth studied Kyle for a long moment. His mouth opened.
Footsteps sounded down the hall from the door. Both of them froze, heads snapping toward the entrance.