Page 7

7

MASON

I couldn’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 his life didn’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 in meetings 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 pretty sure 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.

I perched at the top of the wall for a second, scanning his backyard. Same plain patch of grass from last night, only now lit by bright daylight. I dropped down and crossed to the sliding doors.

Bella must have heard me, because she trotted up with her tongue out, tail wagging. Still no barking or signs of distress. Nothing but mild confusion.

“Sorry, girl,” I murmured. “No time to play right now. I have to make sure your stubborn asshole of a dad isn’t lying in a gutter somewhere.”

I gave her a wave and turned around. There was a path through Kai’s garden leading to another gate in the far wall, one that opened into the alley behind the house. It was locked too, but that didn’t matter—I used the gate as a foothold and climbed over without much trouble.

As I dropped down into the alley, I let out a low, disgusted sound. It was way too easy for me to get in and out of Kai’s yard. Which meant it’d be just as easy for his stalker. Worse, there was a big leafy oak tree in his neighbor’s yard with low-hanging branches that could hide someone perched on the back wall, watching the place without anyone noticing.

I walked through the alley, then back up the path between the houses to the street. I doubted any of Kai’s neighbors were home—or if they were, they weren’t looking out their windows. Otherwise, someone should’ve called the cops on me by now. No wonder no one had seen the stalker dropping off those notes.

I glanced up and down the block. Too many hiding places. Some of the homes were built half a level above the street, with garden apartments tucked underneath. Others had wooden sheds hiding their trash and recycling bins. Trees lined the sidewalk. There were too many shadows. Too many ways for someone to lurk and wait for the right moment.

Still, as far as Kai had said—and I believed him—none of the attacks had happened at his home. Everything had gone down in public places: the metro station, his office, the theater. His stalker clearly knew where he lived but hadn’t used that knowledge for violence. Not yet, anyway.

I pressed my lips together. If I wanted to be thorough, I should check out his office next. Get a sense of what kind of risk he faced there. I didn’t know the name of his company, but a quick search would tell me. I pulled out my phone and started googling.

It didn’t take long. EnviraTech was located in a sleek glass building at L and 17th Streets NW. Another bus and some walking got me there faster than I expected.

I stood across the street from the address, watching a constant stream of employees and delivery guys go in and out of the building. Cars and trucks passed outside. A bus idled at the corner, disgorging passengers.

It was just another patch of D.C. Glass facades, chain coffee shops, overflowing public trash bins. Nothing remarkable about it. But the thought of Kai walking into this building every day made my chest tighten. It was too open. Too vulnerable.

I crossed the street, walked into the lobby, and checked the directory. EnviraTech was listed on the twelfth floor. I took the elevator up.

The receptionist at the front desk was blonde and chipper-looking. She smiled when I walked up.

“I’m here to see Kai Jacinto,” I said, slipping into my Marine-issue tone—firm, respectful, reassuring. The kind you used with civilians when you didn’t want to spook them.

“Do you have an appointment?” she asked, already glancing down at her computer. She probably didn’t need to check to know I wasn’t on the schedule.

“No, but he’ll want to see me,” I said. “Tell him it’s Mason Clark.”

He wouldn’t want to see me, but I was banking on the fact that he would come out and meet me to avoid me causing a scene. Assuming he wasn’t dead, that was.

“I’m sorry,” she said, “but Mr. Jacinto is actually out right now.”

I frowned. If he was out, that implied that he had at one point been in. Which meant he was still alive. Or at least he had been, the last time the receptionist saw him.

I was relieved—and angrier than ever.

“That’s okay. I’ll wait.”

She made a polite but slightly exasperated face. “He left for a site visit a few minutes ago. He could be gone for hours.”

A site visit. I blinked. Of course. The Butterfly Center.

“Do you want to leave a message or—?”

“No,” I said, already heading for the elevator. “No message. Thank you.”

I was looking up the center’s address before I even hit the lobby. It was over in Ivy City. Fantastic. Kai was really dragging me across the city today.

Another maze of buses and sidewalks later, I found myself standing outside an old warehouse on Fairview Ave NE. Construction trucks and vans lined the street. Men in hard hats came and went, carrying all kinds of building materials—drywall, PVC pipes, steel panels. No sign of Kai outside, so I headed towards the front doors, propped open with bricks.

“Hey, what are you doing?” called a voice behind me.

I turned, already preparing to explain myself, but it was only a construction guy, holding out a hard hat.

“No one inside without skull protection,” he said.

“Right. Thanks.” I jogged back, took the hat, shoved it onto my head, and walked inside.

The building stopped me in my tracks.

It was three stories tall, but the center of the ground floor opened up under a soaring, peaked roof, massive beams exposed above. An elevator was set into one wall, and a set of temporary wooden stairs snaked up beside it. The second floor wasn’t finished yet—there were holes in the ceiling that let sunlight filter down in jagged patches.

Workers moved around me, carrying lumber, power tools, and rolls of insulation. Interior walls were going up in a blur of motion. On one side, a team was replacing old, barred windows with sleek, modern panes that rolled up or opened out. In another corner, a jackhammer echoed through the space while ductwork crews ran silver tubing across the ceiling. Two big French doors stood open on the back wall, leading out to where landscapers were laying bricks and planting young trees.

And in the middle of all the chaos stood Kai, trim and formal in a navy suit, a yellow hardhat crushing his perfectly coiffed hair.

He was talking to an older guy with graying hair whose hard hat looked like it belonged there. The guy was holding a pencil and a roll of papers—he had to be the foreman. Kai was nodding as the man pointed at different parts of the building, turning slowly to take it all in.

I couldn’t stop watching him. He looked calm, confident, completely in control—nothing like the guy I’d seen three days ago, who’d looked like he was seconds away from throwing a punch. It was strange, seeing him like this. Not fragile. Not flustered. Just...in charge.

I didn’t even realize I was staring until Kai and the foreman turned in my direction. Kai’s gaze landed on me, shifting from curious to sharp in an instant. He straightened, shoulders going rigid, like he was bracing for a fight.

Which, okay, fair enough. I had kind of barged in. But still. It stung more than I wanted it to.

I took a deep breath, told myself it didn’t matter what he thought of me, and walked right over to them.

“What the hell are you—” Kai started, but I cut him off.

“Don’t you check your phone? I’ve been texting you for three days, and you haven’t answered once.”

“I’ve been busy,” he said stiffly.

“Too busy to care about your personal safety?” I shot back. “I take it from your lack of response that you haven’t called another service yet.”

“It’s none of your business if I have or not.”

“It damn well is, if you’re not going to take it seriously. Unlike you, I actually care if you turn up dead.”

“Can you not—” He nodded at the foreman. “I’m in the middle of something, Mason. I don’t have time for this now.”

“I’ll wait.” I folded my arms.

The foreman looked between the two of us and shook his head like he wanted no part of this.

“It’s alright,” he said. “You two sound like you’ve got some talking to do. I gotta check with Billy about when the city’s gonna turn on the gas. Mr. Jacinto, let me know when you’re ready for the full walkthrough.”

He walked off like he couldn’t get away fast enough.

“Great,” Kai muttered. “Now he probably thinks we’re having some kind of lovers’ quarrel. Well done.”

That hadn’t even occurred to me. I blinked after the foreman, caught off guard. “Really?”

Kai made a noise in the back of his throat, pure exasperation. “Relax. I won’t let him think you’re gay forever. Though how I’m going to explain your comments about me dying…”

“I don’t care if someone thinks I’m gay,” I said. He arched an eyebrow, and my chest heated up. “I don’t. And you don’t have to explain anything. He’ll probably think you’re as dumb as I do for not calling a new security service.”

“He won’t, because he doesn’t know that I called you in the first place.”

“He doesn’t—” I broke off, glancing around. “Wait. You haven’t told him about your stalker?”

“I haven’t told anyone,” Kai hissed, stepping closer. “And keep your voice down. No one knows, and no one is going to know. I don’t want to make this a bigger thing than it is. The focus should be on the center, not me.”

“Jesus, what if one of these guys is behind it?” I asked. “Or someone else you work with?”

“I highly doubt the guy getting two million dollars to build this place is also trying to sabotage it,” he said dryly. “And if someone else I work with is behind this, the last thing I should do is let them know they’re rattling me.”

“So you’re willing to admit that, at least,” I said. I had to force myself not to reach for him, to stand there with my arms crossed like I wasn’t two seconds away from grabbing him and shaking him. “If you can admit you’re scared—”

“I didn’t say I was scared.”

“—Then why wouldn’t you call another service?”

“Because what if that makes it worse?” he shouted.

He winced the second the words left his mouth, eyes darting around to check who’d heard. His cheeks flushed pink. A few workers looked our way, but nobody stopped. Kai glared at me like I’d made him yell, then spun on his heel and stalked off.

I rolled my eyes and followed. He didn’t acknowledge me, just stomped over to the rickety stairs by the elevator and marched up them. The stairs wobbled underfoot, but he didn’t seem to notice. The second floor was quieter, only a few workers scattered around. A couple of them were dealing with piping along the wall, and two other people stood in the far corner.

Kai didn’t speak, didn’t slow down. But when he caught sight of the woman standing near the northeast corner, his expression softened. He smiled, the first one I’d seen from him all day. He headed over to her, and I followed like some sad stray dog. I hated how accurate that comparison felt. All I needed was a missing leg and that Sarah McLachlan song playing behind me.

If I could get him to agree to call another service, I could leave. Be done with him. I’d have done my duty, gone above and beyond. My conscience could shut the hell up.

Or maybe not. Because when I thought about walking away, I felt a weird ache in my chest. But I shoved it down. It wasn’t important.

“Hey, Ed. Hey, Amber,” Kai said, smiling as he reached the pair in the corner. “I didn’t know you were here today too.”

He pulled the woman into a quick hug, and I felt that same weird pang again. Probably indigestion. Maybe I should’ve finished my sandwich.

“I popped in on my way home from some shopping,” she said as he let her go. “We’ve been running low on gender-affirming swimsuits, and now that summer’s coming, it seemed like a good time to restock. Ed here was walking me through the set-up for the new space.”

“Smart,” Kai said, nodding.

The woman looked from Kai to me, and when Kai didn’t say anything, she stuck her hand out to me. “Hi. I’m Amber Harrison, director of Wardrobes for the Win here in DC.”

“Mason Clark,” I said, shaking her hand. “I’m a friend of Kai’s. What’s Wardrobes for the Win?”

She glanced at Kai, a flicker of confusion crossing her face—probably wondering how close a friend I could really be if I didn’t know that already. Fair enough. But I planned to ask as many questions as I needed to get the full picture here. Someone had to figure things out, especially if Kai and the cops weren’t going to.

“We’re a philanthropic organization supporting trans kids and their families,” she said. “We provide clothing and haircuts for kids who want to socially transition, so their families don’t have to foot the bill of a whole new wardrobe on their own.”

“Wow,” I said. “That sounds great.”

“It is,” she replied, her smile widening. “And it was all Kai’s idea. He helped open the first Wardrobe here in DC five years ago, and he’s the reason we’ve been able to spread to other cities all over the United States.”

I blinked and turned to look at Kai. We locked eyes for a second before he looked away.

“It wasn’t all my idea,” he said. “I just helped with the infrastructure.”

Amber laughed. “He’s being modest. Next thing, he’ll tell you he had nothing to do with the plans for the Butterfly Center, when the whole thing is actually his brainchild.”

Kai rolled his eyes. “I try to help out where I can.”

“That’s really cool,” I said, hoping to catch his gaze again. He avoided me, so I turned my smile back to Amber.

“It is. So cool, in fact,” she went on, “that Wardrobes for the Win is going to move our operation over here to the center. We’ll be able to expand our reach this way too—and stock more of the clothes that kids need. You wouldn’t believe how fast some of the teenagers grow.”

“I can finish showing you the designs for the closets,” the man—Ed—said in a gruff voice.

“That sounds wonderful,” Amber said. She waved at both of us and followed Ed to a table in the corner, where he began pointing at something on a paper spread across the surface.

Kai watched them go, then turned and walked over to the windows on the back wall—what would eventually be windows, anyway. For now, they were floor-to-ceiling holes in the building’s brick exterior. He leaned against one of the posts and stared down at the patio under construction.

“I meant what I said,” I told him. “The center really does sound like a great idea.”

He didn’t answer.

“And your Wardrobes thing—that’s great too. I bet it helps a lot of families.”

Still nothing. He kept staring, lips pressed tight, shoulders stiff. He looked almost regal standing there like that. I caught myself picturing him in a crown and—god help me—imagined myself kneeling at his feet like some kind of medieval knight. I shook the thought off. My brain was short-circuiting today.

“Do you have a trans cousin or something?” I asked when the silence stretched too long. I knew he didn’t have siblings, but maybe there was someone in the extended family.

“No,” he said shortly, finally glancing at me. His tone was suspicious. “Why?”

“I was just wondering how you got the idea for the Wardrobe organization.”

“I don’t know. There was a need, and I could fill it.” He gave me a look so sharp it could cut steel. “You shouldn’t have to be personally affected by something to care about people’s human rights. It was the right thing to do.”

“Well, it’s cool. That’s all I’m saying.” I nodded. “You’re really doing something with your life. Making a difference in the world. Most people can’t say that.”

His eyes stayed on mine, and I felt a shift in the air.

“What about you?” he asked. “What are you doing with your life?”

That caught me off guard. I hadn’t expected him to ask. Or maybe he sensed that my answer would suck. I wanted to shift my feet under his gaze, but I forced myself to be honest.

“Not as much as I should be,” I admitted. “I’m unemployed, actually. I’m living with Dana right now.”

“But you’re not unemployed,” he said. “You’re a bodyguard.”

I shook my head. “I’m not. I’m just—sometimes Dana uses me to check out new clients. But I think that’s more out of pity than anything else.”

He frowned. “So that’s it? That’s what you’ve been doing since high school? Scoping out dudes who want to hire escorts?”

“Obviously not,” I snapped. His tone grated on me—like everything I’d done was dirty or beneath him.

“Well, what then?” he pushed. “Didn’t you get a football scholarship to Dartmouth or something?”

I shrugged, uncomfortable. I didn’t like remembering that. I’d never really fit in there.

“I did,” I said. “But I fucked up my knee sophomore year, and my grades slipped. They said I couldn’t come back junior year.”

There. I’d said it. My college experience wasn’t something I was proud of, but at least I’d been honest.

“Okay,” Kai said slowly. “But what about after that? That was still ten years ago.”

This was the part I hated. The part I almost never told anyone, because no one ever reacted the right way. Either they turned me into some goddamn hero—which I definitely wasn’t—or they hated me. Once, a girl I’d gone on one date with told me I was, ‘ bootlicking imperialist scum .’

What made it worse was that part of me agreed with her.

I’d been in the military too long, seen too much, to buy into any of that shiny patriotic crap. I’d served with some good people—people who genuinely believed in what they were doing. For a while, I was one of them.

But I’d also seen what stress and violence did to good people. How it hardened and twisted them. How it taught them to see others not as humans but as statistics. As animals. As problems to be solved with force.

And I’d seen what it did to me. How my loyalty made me stay quiet when I should’ve spoken up. How my desire to keep the peace in my unit made me turn a blind eye to shit that should never have happened. How when I finally did stand up and said, ‘ This is wrong ,’ it was too late.

Kai was still watching me—eyes sharp, curious, waiting. I knew if I backed off now, he’d push. And he’d be right to. I was here trying to get him to take this threat seriously. If I started dodging the truth or glossing things over, I’d lose whatever moral standing I had left.

“I was in the military,” I said curtly.

He sniffed. “I should have known.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Just what it sounds like. It seems like the kind of thing you would do.”

“Meaning?”

“Well,” he said, his lip curling, “it’s somewhere that physical size and brute strength come in handy. Another chauvinist, misogynist, homophobic organization where you could rise to the top. I bet you were real popular there.”

Heat flared in my chest. That wasn’t fair. Yeah, he wasn’t wrong about the culture. But that wasn’t why I’d joined. And he didn’t get to reduce it to that.

“For your information, I joined because I needed the fucking money. Not all of us were born rich like you.”

“Because that makes it better?”

Anger rolled through me. “You wouldn’t understand. I’ve seen your house. You haven’t exactly come down in the world.”

“Hey, I worked hard for my money,” he shot back. “I used my own brain to found my own company.”

“And your folks didn’t help at all, huh?” I said, voice biting. “No startup loan? No help with tuition? No pricey extracurriculars in high school that padded your résumé?”

“Jesus,” Kai said, exasperated. “For someone who claims he can barely remember high school, you sure are hung up on it.”

Ridiculous. He was the one who kept bringing it up.

“Forget it.” I shook my head. “I definitely remember now why you annoyed the hell out of me back then. Your holier-than-thou attitude hasn’t changed one damn bit.”

“My apologies,” he said acidly. “I guess that means you’re within your rights to beat me up again.”

“I’m not trying to beat you up,” I said, stepping closer. “I’m trying to keep you safe. Though, you make it fucking hard to remember why.”

“Don’t do me any favors.”

He pushed off the post he’d been leaning against, but his left foot missed the plywood edge of the floor by an inch. His balance faltered and his eyes went wide as he teetered towards the open window.

I didn’t even think. I lunged, catching him around the waist and hauling him in. His chest collided with mine, firm and warm, and I pivoted us both until our feet were planted solidly on the floor.

Up close, I could smell his aftershave—cool and minty. My heart thundered. I could see the pulse fluttering in his neck, feel the shape of his body pressed to mine. His head tipped back, lips parted, nostrils flaring like he was about to yell at me again—maybe tell me he’d rather have fallen than let me catch him.

But fuck that. If he was so determined to get himself killed, maybe I should let him. Natural selection had put up with enough of humanity’s bullshit. No need for me to get in its way.

I opened my mouth to say as much—and instead, pressed my lips to his.