Page 35 of Dual Surrender

“Yes,” Foster snapped, “the New Year’s guy.”

“What did you do to him?” I asked, glancing toward the door.

Foster was…a complicated man. I knew he did things for work that he thought he kept secret, but none of us were fools. There wasn’t ever a way we could broach our knowledge with him, though, so we all had silently agreed to just not talk about it, but this phone call brought his work—whatever it might be—into my living room and into my life. I knew there was a reason Foster always carried a gun. I didn’t want to have a reason to do the same.

“I didn’t do shit. He showed up like this. Are you coming or not?”

“Yeah. Yeah, fine,” I agreed. At the end of the day, Foster was my friend. He needed my help and I wouldn’t let him down. I didn’t exactly know what he needed my help with, but I had a guess. “What are his injuries as far as you can tell?”

“Probably a broken nose, a big cut on his cheek." Foster paused. “And a stab wound in his stomach.”

“Fucking shit, Foster.” I scrubbed a hand down the front of my face. What had this asshole gotten himself into? What was he about to getmeinto?

“The front door is locked. Use your key or come around back. We’re in the kitchen.”

I stood, padding back to the bedroom, hesitating outside the door. “Fine. I’ll be there as soon as I can. Keep him awake, Foster.”

I disconnected the call and stepped into the room, finding Kevin sitting up in bed with narrowed, angry eyes.

“Go back to sleep.” I walked over to him and kissed his forehead.

“Who was that?”

“Foster.” I pulled some workout pants and a t-shirt out from the dresser and quickly slipped into them, sitting on the edge of the bed to deal with socks and shoes.

“What does he want?”

“He needs some help.”

“What kind of help?” Kevin pressed.

“That guy from the auction is hurt.”

“Then he can go to the hospital.” Kevin crossed his arms over his chest.

“Foster calledme.” I patted the blankets, feeling out Kevin’s leg beneath the tangled fabric. I settled my hand on his knee and gave him a squeeze.

“Don’t get us wrapped up in this,” he said.

“I’m not getting us wrapped up in anything,” I said, hoping it was true. “It can’t be that dramatic or Foster would have sent him to the hospital. Probably just some stitches or something.”

“I know you’ve always had this silent agreement with Foster…” Kevin started, but I raised a hand and cut him off.

“Don’t.”

“Ronan.”

“It’ll be fine.” I shot him a reassuring look. “Foster is my friend and he needs my help.”

“Foster kills people for a living.”

“We don’t,” I snapped, clearing my throat and lowering my voice. “We don’t know that.”

“You assume it,” Kevin yawned. “With good reason.”

“He could work for the FBI.” I shrugged my way through the lie. “We don’t know. We don’t ask.”

“You should sometime.”