Aw, held…
Without asking, Benson peeled back his shirt. “Hmm … Better have these x-rayed. I think he broke a few.”
”I’ll take care of it,” Kit grated
”What was that guff he was giving you when I came up?”
Kit explained.
Mike Benson ran a hand across his short hair and gazed into empty space as though considering the wisdom of speaking. He glanced at Kit’s ribs and spoke anyway. “Kit, that girl’s been nothing but trouble since she got here. No offense, but she’s a magnet for disaster.”
”Great. What else has she done I don’t know about?”
”Nothing illegal, if that’s worrying you. Just … well, watch out when she’s around Skeeter Jackson and the occasional drunken billionaire aren’t the only hotheads panting over her.”
Great. Just wonderful.
A strained smile appeared around the security chief’s eyes. “At least it’s been more interesting around here since she arrived Sometimes herding tourists from gate to gate is like dealing with squabbling schoolkids. If I’d wanted that, I’d have stayed on the force in Chicago when they tried retiring me to crossing guard.”
Kit forced a laugh. “You’d have lasted six weeks. You thrive on La-La Land’s unique brand of lunacy.”
Benson sniffed “Maybe I do. Maybe I do, at that: Of course, I could say the same. You might’ve retired uptime a couple of years ago. What keeps you hanging around this asylum?”
Kit let his shoulders relax, which was something of a mistake. He hissed softly and adjusted his stance. “Search me. Sheer meanness, I guess. What’ll you do with Kynan?”