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He had lost track of that intriguing little red head he met at the book store but it just meant he could clear his head and focus a little more on tracking his brother. He had already been to all the local dive bars and strip clubs but no luck. No one seemed to recognize his brother. He knew he had tracked him right into this city, but it was a big enough city to get lost in if you knew what you were doing. Kit was usually the one trying to get lost so he would know but Troy had never been this hard to find. Maybe he'd gotten better at covering his tracks since the last time they'd hunted together. He walked out of another bar and headed down the street after another unsuccessful try at showing around Troy's photo. He cut down an alleyway to save time getting back to the hotel he was staying at, only to see shadows on the wall growing taller as he kept walking. He didn't turn his head, not giving any indication that he knew he had trackers, but he kept watching those shadows as he walked. His body language appeared for all the world like he was relaxed, but his fingers were already rubbing together in his pockets, powder rolling right out of his pores and into his waiting palms as he bided his time. It was only when he felt the cold steel of a gun against the back of his neck did he freeze, air hissing through his teeth at the discomfort immediately as he tensed. "You don't want to do this." He murmured to the men but they only laughed. "Just give us your wallet, fresh face, and nobody gets hurt." The bigger man growled the words but Kit felt the barrel being dug into his skin. What an interesting turn this had taken. |