Page 27 of Rival for Rent
“Thanks, I guess,” I said, still acutely aware of where he’d touched me. “I’m gonna go.”
I crossed the street to where my car was parked and slid into the driver’s seat. As I reached for the door, Mason called out, “Kai!”
I looked back over at him. “Yeah?”
“Call anytime,” he said. “And be safe.”
I nodded and shut the door. Be safe. Sure. I’d get right on that.
7
MASON
Icouldn’t get Kai out of my head when I got home that night. His eyes stuck with me—dark and accusing, like I’d kicked his dog or spat in his coffee. The way he’d looked at me in the kitchen, like I was an idiot beyond redemption. And yeah, maybe I was. When he’d stepped right up in front of me, I’d half thought he might punch me.
I’d watched him carefully at the police station, taking in every detail. The way he told the cops what had happened, like they were pulling the story out of him with pliers. Like it was a burden to say it aloud. The way he didn’t want to bother anyone. It was infuriating, watching him downplay everything like it didn’t matter. Like hislifedidn’t matter.
But I’d seen the fear in his eyes—raw and true—when I’d asked him if he’d rather die than be embarrassed. He knew the danger was real.
I’d wanted to follow him home and make sure he called another security service. But I’d already pushed him enough. So I gave him my number and left, even though it felt wrong. And now, a day later, I wasn’t so sure I’d made the right call.
Dana was working inside, so I was back in the yard again, ripping up poison ivy and whatever other invasive weed was trying to strangle everything else. I tore it out with a vengeance, yanking at the roots like I could solve something. But no matter how hard I worked, I couldn’t stop worrying.
Finally, I pulled off my gloves and texted Kai.
Hey, have you called another security service yet?
I hit send and waited five minutes. The sun beat down on my back, a blue jay screamed at me from the fencepost, and still—nothing. Maybe he was fine, but busy. Or maybe he was duct-taped to a radiator somewhere. I shoved my phone back in my pocket and went back to work.
By the end of the day, he still hadn’t responded. I tried to tell myself everything was okay, that he’d been caught up in meetings, but that little thread of worry in my stomach pulled tighter. When I still hadn’t heard anything by the next morning, I texted again.
Can you at least respond and let me know you made it home alright? I just want to make sure you’re ok
I sounded like a worried grandma, but I couldn’t help it. If Kai wouldn’t take this seriously, someone had to. He was being a stubborn idiot. He knew he was in trouble—he just didn’t want me to be right. God forbid I be correct about something. He’d probably rather take a bullet.
But that day passed with no reply either, and by now, I was annoyed as well as afraid. Maybe Kai really was caught inmeetings from sun-up to sun-down, but he could at least find two seconds to respond to my texts, couldn’t he?
The third morning, I texted again.
Can you at least let me know you’re alive? I’m going crazy over here, Kai
An hour passed. Then another. Crickets. It was absolutely impossible to work at this point. Every five seconds, Kai’s face appeared in my mind again, and all I could do was picture terrible things that might have happened to him. The longer he went without responding, the worse the pictures got.
By lunchtime, that thread of worry had twisted into a rope as thick as my thigh, and I was at the end of it. I tossed my half-eaten sandwich onto the counter and grabbed my keys.
Getting to Georgetown from Columbia Heights was a pain. There was no Metro stop and no direct bus. I caught the 54 at 14th and Park, rode it down to Logan Circle, then hopped on the G2 west. My leg bounced the whole ride, and by the time I got off at P and 33rd, I was ready to sprint.
But I made myself walk. If someone was watching Kai’s house, or if something had already happened, I didn’t want to tip them off.
His house looked still, empty. No signs of trouble in the tiny front yard. I went up to the door and knocked. No answer. Probably fine. Kai was probably at work. I was probably being paranoid.
Bella padded up to the other side of the door and sniffed around, her toenails clicking softly on the floor. She didn’t bark today, but she also didn’t seem stressed. That helped, a little. Bella might not be the brightest crayon in the dog box, but I was prettysure even she would be agitated if Kai were lying in a pool of his own blood.
Still, I couldn’t shake my worry. I walked down the steps and over to the front windows, peering through. Nothing out of place. I probably looked like a burglar scoping out the house. Maybe one of the neighbors would call the cops. Honestly, that might help.
I walked over to the wrought iron gate that led between Kai’s house and his neighbor’s and tested it. Unlocked. Jesus. What was the point of even having a gate if you weren’t going to lock it?
Cursing softly, I pushed through and followed the narrow brick path. Two more gates branched off halfway down—one into Kai’s backyard, one into the neighbor’s. I tried Kai’s. This one was locked, at least. But it didn’t take much to climb over it. I set my foot on the metal scrollwork and hoisted myself up.
