Out of Turn

CHAPTER THIRTEEN

Blane’s lips were warm and soft, his hands moving up from my arms to cradle my jaw. His mouth moved over mine, not demanding a response but close. The scent of his cologne teased me, invoking too many memories. The feel of his body against mine made my knees weak and butterflies quivered in my stomach.

Thoughts of resisting faded away as my lips parted beneath his, our tongues entwining. My arms slid around his waist to pull him closer. Blane groaned, his kisses growing more heated.

“Don’t go into work,” he whispered against my lips. “Come home with me.”

It was tempting, God, it was so tempting, but I pulled back. His lips glided smoothly down my neck.

“I can’t,” I said, breathless. “It’s not that simple.”

“I love you. You love me. What could be more simple?”

If only he’d believed that three months ago, instead of the lies about us. Yes, I’d forgiven him, but my heart wasn’t healed. Not yet.

And then there was Kade. As the fog of desire lifted from my brain, I thought of him, abruptly remembering that he and I had stood in this exact spot a few months ago and put on a “show” for the madman stalking me.

“I-I need to get to work,” I stammered, pushing against Blane. He seemed reluctant to release me but did so.

“I’ll come back for you,” he said.

I nodded, glancing away from him. “I’ll see you later.” I hurried inside, the compulsion to look back nearly overwhelming.

Tish was working tonight and I waved to her as I stuffed my purse under the bar. It was really crowded and Scott, also bartending, was glad to see me. I dived in, grateful not to have to think about all Blane had just said.

I couldn’t keep my thoughts at bay for long, though.

I had no idea what to do. I felt torn, almost literally, in two.

I still loved Blane, that was true. I loved him, was attracted to him. When we were together, I felt like it was how we were supposed to be, that fate had determined our destiny. He was my first love, my first real lover.

Then there was Kade. Even though we couldn’t be together, that it was wrong on so many levels for me to want him, I couldn’t stop. When I was with him, I felt alive. He challenged me, brought out more than I thought I had in me. And although he pushed me away with one hand, he still clung to me with the other, needing me, wanting me. Kade was a drug I couldn’t seem to give up. An addiction that had me craving more.

Where did all that leave me? Confused and so anxious, I was nearly sick with worry, fear, and guilt. What would become of the three of us? Blane said he didn’t care about what had happened in Vegas, but could that really be true? And Kade didn’t even know we’d made love. Would his feelings for me be different if he did?

The Drop was busier than I thought we’d be for the Fourth, and it wasn’t until almost closing that Tish and I had a chance to chat.

“The cops came by my house yesterday,” she said, grabbing a peanut from the snack bowl on the bar.

I frowned. “That’s weird. What for?”

“They were asking about you.”

My eyes went wide. Was this what Blane had meant about the cops looking into every part of my life?

“What did you say?” I asked.

She shrugged, shelling the nut and popping it into her mouth. “There wasn’t a lot to say. They wanted to know if you and Blane were back together, if you were living with him, if I’d ever seen you with some girl named Kandi or heard you talk about her.

“Of course I told them you weren’t back with Blane, that piece of shit,” she continued with a disgusted snort. “And that the last time you mentioned Kandi was months ago when she broke you and Blane up.”

I closed my eyes in dismay.

“What’s wrong?” Tish asked anxiously. “Did I say something I shouldn’t have?”

I shook my head. I couldn’t blame Tish. She’d told the truth, as far as she knew it. “It’s fine,” I said. “I’m sorry they bothered you.”

“Why are the cops asking me about you?” she asked. “What happened?”

I gave her a quick recap of Kandi’s murder and how Blane was a suspect. It had been on the news, but I knew how little attention Tish paid to things like that.

“So they’re asking me because they think maybe you were involved somehow?”

I gave a helpless shrug. “I have no idea. Maybe.” Which was a lovely thought to dwell on the rest of the evening.

Scott and Tish were just as eager to leave as I was once we’d closed. I said good-bye to them, promising to lock up when I left. I had to go back to the storeroom for more liquor to stock. If I’d been the one scheduled to work tomorrow, I wouldn’t have bothered, but I hated to leave the bar in that state for the next person to deal with.

Once I was in the storeroom, I scanned the shelves for what I needed. The air-conditioning couldn’t keep up with the heat out front, so I felt sticky and hot, but it was cooler in there.

I wanted to hurry. If I could get to James’s house, maybe I could help Kade. Not that he likely needed help, especially mine, but that’s what I told myself to justify going over there.

I heard the door open behind me and I spun around in surprise. I should be alone now, no one else was here. When I saw who’d entered the room with me, my heart lodged in my throat.

James. How the hell had he gotten in?

“I’m so glad to have a moment alone with you, Kathleen,” he said.

“What are you doing here?” I asked with more bravado than I felt.

James took a step closer. “I thought I’d stop by your fine new working establishment and check in on you, seeing as how your boyfriend’s going to be arrested for murder.” His fake sympathy was grating. “The cops say you two are back together, though if you ask me, hooking up with a murderer can’t be good for your health.”

“Blane didn’t murder anyone,” I said. James took another step forward and it was all I could do not to back away.

“How sweet, standing by your man,” he sneered. “Or stupid.” He moved closer until he stood right in front of me. “For all you know, you could be next.”

My heart was hammering in my chest and I swallowed hard. Was that a threat? The last time I’d been alone with James, he’d attacked me. I’d gotten away only because of the stun gun I’d borrowed from Alisha. I had no such weapon now.

James reached out to trail a finger from my neck down inside my cleavage. I slapped his hand away and his eyes narrowed in menace.

“You know,” he said softly, “I could maybe be… persuaded… to go easy on your guy. Involuntary manslaughter instead of murder one. Ten years, but he’d be out in five.”

Blane. I could help him. My mind spun. If things progressed far enough for him to be arrested, this would be better than the alternative. On the other hand…

“You forget,” I said, “I still have a rather incriminating recording of you threatening me, remember?”

“You mean this one?” He held up a familiar flash drive. “I was so sorry to hear about your apartment burning, so I went by,” he said. “The restoration people were very cooperative once I told them who I was. They were impressed that the district attorney would take such an interest in one of my… constituents.” He pocketed the drive. “You should find better hiding places, Kathleen. It took me all of ten minutes to find it.”

Okay, well, this was an unfortunate turn of events. I swallowed. How far was I willing to go to help Blane? I loved him and didn’t want to see his life destroyed for a crime he didn’t commit. But the price for what James offered was steep, and I didn’t know if I could pay it.

“How could I… persuade you?” I forced the words out, feeling sick to my stomach.

James’s smile was triumphant. His hand slipped inside my shirt to cup my breast, pinching the nipple hard. I stiffened, wincing, but didn’t move or make a sound of protest.

His other hand circled my throat as he shoved me against the brick wall at my back. His grip tightened and he forced my head to turn. “I thought you’d come around to my way of thinking,” he hissed in my ear. “You’ll do anything for Kirk, won’t you. Stupid cunt.”

I shut my eyes tight, struggling to breathe. His hold was painful but didn’t completely cut off my air.

“Won’t you?” he demanded again, squeezing harder.

I tried to nod, spots starting to appear before my eyes.

His grip loosened and I sucked in a lungful of air.

“That’s a good girl,” James said. “Now you just do as I say, and I won’t hurt you. Much. Understand?”

I nodded again, suddenly all the more glad I hadn’t told Kade or Blane about getting off work early. I didn’t want either of them to see this.

He yanked on my shirt and it bit into my shoulders before the fabric tore. “Take it off,” he said, letting go of me.

My hands shook as I shrugged out of the shirt. James’s gaze dropped to my breasts.

“Kirk may be a killer,” he said with an appreciative sigh, “but he knows how to pick ’em.”

He fished something out of his pocket, and flipped open a pocketknife. My breath caught at the sight of it. I was abruptly reminded of what James had done to Kandi. Was he going to do that to me?

“Hold still now,” James said, his tone too nonchalant for how close the knife was to my skin. “I don’t want this to slip. That would be a real shame.”

James slid the blade under the elastic of my bra, twisting upward, then tugged. The knife cut easily through the fabric. I didn’t breathe as the blade again touched my skin.

“How about a souvenir?” James said. “I don’t want you or Kirk to ever forget this.”

I stood frozen as he sliced a thin cut down between my breasts. “It’s such a treat, to have you finally minding your manners,” he mused.

I could feel the warm trickle of blood trailing down over my stomach. Terror gripped me. I sucked in my breath to scream.

“Don’t even think about it,” James bit out, whipping the knife up to my throat. “I’ll have your throat slit before you can manage a whimper.”

I looked in his eyes—the steady, calm gaze of a sociopath—and knew there was nothing too horrifying for him to do.

“You’re not worth fucking,” he sneered. “But you can suck my dick. Get on your knees, you fucking bitch.”

“If I do this,” I managed to say, “you promise you’ll only charge for manslaughter?”

James’s fist closed around a handful of my hair and yanked me toward him. I gasped in pain.

“If you do this… and maybe a few more things,” he said. The darkness in his voice made a shudder run through me.

“You don’t need to hold the knife on me. I said I’d do it.” My free hand searched blindly behind me, closing around the neck of a bottle.

He jerked my hair again and this time I cried out. “Maybe I just like you better if you’re scared,” he hissed.

I swung the bottle I held, but James reacted faster than I thought, jumping back so it only glanced off his shoulder. I slammed the bottle against the metal shelf and it broke, spewing booze everywhere but leaving me with a jagged weapon.

“Come on, you piece of shit,” I taunted him. “You’re not afraid of a girl, are you?”

“Like you know how to use that,” he scoffed. “When I’m through with you, you’ll wish I’d killed you.”

“I may not know how to use it, but I bet it can cause some real damage. Let’s see, shall we?” I smiled and leapt for him.

James jumped back again and grabbed my arm that held the bottle. His knife flashed toward me and I just managed to latch onto his wrist, deflecting the slash he’d intended for my face. We were in close quarters now and I brought my knee up, but it missed its mark, hitting him on the inside of a thigh instead of his crotch.

I twisted my wrist, breaking his hold on me, and slashed at him, tearing through his shirt to his chest. He let me go with a yell.

The door to the storeroom flew open, jerking my attention away from James, which proved to be bad.

He knocked the bottle out of my hand and punched me in the stomach. I doubled over in gut-wrenching pain, retching.

But then James spun around and I heard the crunch of bone against bone. He dropped to the floor, out cold.

I straightened, ignoring the pained ache in my stomach, and turned to see who’d entered the storeroom.

Blane.

But he wasn’t looking at me, he was looking at James—and the expression on his face sent a jolt of terror through me.

Blane crouched next to James and grabbed the knife he’d used on me. He flipped the blade up with a practiced hand. Without a word, he took a fistful of James’s hair and jerked his head back, exposing his throat.

“No!” I cried, tackling Blane.

I had enough momentum and motivation that I knocked him to the side, toppling both of us. I scrambled on top of him, holding on even as he sat back up and tried to push me off his lap.

“Are you out of your mind? You can’t kill him!”

Blane was shaking with rage, and for a moment, I wasn’t sure he was going to listen to me. But then he closed his eyes and took a shuddering breath. When he opened his eyes again and focused on me, the Blane I knew was there, not the murderous stranger from before. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me tight against him.

“God, Kat,” he breathed into my hair. “When I came in here and saw him hit you, I just… lost it.”

“I’m fine,” I said, squeezing him tight. Leftover fear and adrenaline were making me shaky, but I couldn’t think about that right now.

After a moment, I got off Blane, grabbed my shirt, and put it on, tying a makeshift knot to keep it closed. I didn’t want to imagine how ridiculous I must have looked fighting James with my boobs hanging out. I kept my back to Blane, embarrassed at being nearly naked and hoping I could hide the cuts James had made. I didn’t think Blane had seen them.

My bra was useless, so I picked it up and knelt next to James. Blood seeped from the gash on his chest. I used my bra to mop up some of James’s blood before folding it carefully into the pocket of my shorts.

DNA? Check.

“What are you doing here anyway?” I asked Blane while I worked. “Not that I’m not glad you were.” He’d stood watching me as I got dressed.

“This place closed thirty minutes ago,” he said. “I was waiting outside for you. When you didn’t come out, I came in.”

“How did you—” I began, then cut myself off at the look on his face.

“Do I look like an idiot?” he said, raising an eyebrow. “I knew you would try to run off and help Kade.”

Couldn’t deny that one. I changed the subject. “Help me get James out of here.”

Blane reached down and hauled James up and over his shoulder in a fireman’s carry. “Where do you want him?” he asked. “Trash goes in the dumpster, right?”

I shook my head. As much as I’d love for Blane to dump James’s ass in the dumpster, I didn’t want to antagonize him further. Like it or not, James was the one who’d be trying the case against Blane, if it came to that.

I grabbed my purse from under the bar, hit the lights, and locked the door on the way out. James’s car was parked in the front.

“Let me get his keys,” I said, going to Blane and digging a hand in James’s jeans pocket.

Blane deposited him none too gently in the backseat and tossed the keys onto his chest before shutting the door on James’s unconscious body. He took my elbow and walked me to his car.

We weren’t driving thirty seconds before the interrogation began.

“How long was he there?”

“Just a few minutes.”

“Were you alone?”

“Yes.”

“What did he say?”

I hesitated. “He offered a deal. Involuntary manslaughter instead of murder one.”

“In exchange for what?”

I looked at Blane, then out the window. He was a smart guy. He’d figure it out.

I jumped when Blane suddenly slammed his hand on the dash.

“Goddammit!” he yelled.

I laid my hand on his arm and the muscles were like iron bands underneath my fingers. I could feel his rage like it was a living thing.

“I didn’t do it,” I said. “Surely you know me better than that.”

“I don’t want James anywhere near you,” Blane ground out. “You know what he’s done. You’ve seen the pictures. I want to kill him for even breathing the same air you do.”

Blane was driving fast and we were back at his house before I could think of what to say, so I tried to change the subject.

“Is Kade back yet?”

“No, but he will be. And if you think he’s going to have any other reaction to what happened tonight than I did, you’re wrong.”

“It’s done,” I said. “I’m fine and I have the DNA.” I dug in my pocket, handing the folded bra to Blane. “Here. Give this to your guy and have them compare it to the semen.”

I hopped out of the car and walked fast to the door, hoping I could make it inside before Blane got a closer look at me. No such luck.

“Kathleen!” he called, the car door slamming behind him.

I pretended not to hear, rushing inside the house and heading for the stairs.

“Stop!” Blane commanded, his voice thundering in the hallway.

My body locked in place on the second stair, the tone of his voice not one to be disobeyed. I heard his footsteps on the hardwood floor as he walked toward me.

“Turn around.”

I crossed my arms over my chest before I did so, raising an eyebrow at Blane. We were eye to eye now. “Anything else?” I asked. “Should I roll over? Fetch?”

He ignored me, reaching over to flick on the overhead light. Shit.

Blane reached out, tugging my arms down. I tried to resist, but he was too strong.

I could have sworn his face paled under his tan.

I’d already gotten a look at what James had done, so didn’t need to look down.

“He… carved a J into your skin?” Blane choked out, his eyes glued to my chest.

“It’s not deep,” I said. “Just a scratch. It’ll heal.”

Blane swallowed so hard, I saw his Adam’s apple move up and down.

“So let me ask you this,” he said. “Was he planning to rape you? Or did you agree to the deal?”

I looked at Blane, refusing to answer.

“Answer me,” he demanded, his voice loud in the empty foyer.

My fists clenched at my sides as I stared at Blane. “Yes,” I bit out. “I agreed to the deal, because I thought, maybe, just maybe, he would do it. That he’d go with a lesser charge and not murder one.” My face was burning, but I didn’t look away from Blane. “But it doesn’t matter, because I couldn’t go through with it. When it came down to it, I didn’t have the guts.”

Blane looked as shell-shocked as I’d ever seen him. “Why?” he asked. “Why would you even consider—”

“Because you don’t deserve this,” I interrupted, exasperated. “He’s framing you, and you’re too good a man to let something like this take you down.”

“He won’t win,” Blane said. “We’ll get him. I promise.”

“And what’ll you lose until then?” I asked. “If they arrest you, it’s over. Your political career is over. Even if they let you go. Those photos of you in handcuffs, your mug shot—all that will be used every time your name comes up.”

“Maybe I don’t care anymore,” Blane said quietly.

I frowned, sure I’d heard him wrong. “What?”

“I don’t know if I care anymore,” Blane repeated. “I feel like I’ve been so focused, for years, on achieving in my career that I’ve let it affect how I want to live my life. I’ve let it affect you. Us.” He paused. “If I hadn’t been so single-minded, maybe I would have seen how much my uncle wanted you out of my life—and I wouldn’t have bought in to his lies. I just wish it hadn’t taken losing you for me to realize that.”

I stared at Blane, unable to believe what I was hearing.

He leaned forward, his arms sliding around my back to hold me close. My breath caught in my throat when his tongue traced the cut James had made. Blane gently licked the blood from my skin, the warm heat of his mouth soothing the burning slice. My fingernails dug into his sides as I held on to him.

“I’ll avenge this,” Blane murmured, lifting his face to mine. “I swear it.”

His lips moved over mine, the faint tang of my blood on his tongue. When we parted, I rested my head against his shoulder.

I was still sick with worry about what was going to happen to Blane, but being wrapped in his arms calmed me. His hand brushed over my hair and his lips pressed against my forehead.

“Don’t let me interrupt.”

I jerked away from Blane with a gasp and turned to see that Kade had silently entered the hallway. His face was cold and blank. I took an uncomfortable step backward up the stairs, putting some space between Blane and me.

“Did you get it?” Blane asked.

“Of course I did,” Kade said, stopping at the foot of the stairs. “He wasn’t even home. Piece of cake.”

“He wasn’t at home because he was busy assaulting Kathleen at work,” Blane said.

Kade’s head whipped around, his blue eyes locking on mine.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I was able to get his DNA,” I said, locking my arms tightly over my chest again. “Other than that, I don’t want to talk about it.” I wouldn’t put it past Kade to slit James’s throat like Blane almost had—only I wouldn’t be able to stop Kade as I had Blane. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

I turned and jogged up the stairs, hoping that would put an end to any more questions. I just wanted to forget the whole thing. It had scared me, not only the threat from James but the realization of how far I’d been willing to go to help Blane. What did that mean? I loved him, that was true, but did it mean I was still in love with him? Or did it just mean I was colossally stupid?

I didn’t want to answer that question.

I got a good look at James’s handiwork in my bathroom mirror. Livid cuts formed an uppercase J between my breasts. But it would heal. And I chose to think of the J as standing for Justice rather than James. I hoped I’d done my part in helping bring Kandi’s killer to justice. That made me feel better. Sort of.

The red imprints of James’s fingers stood out around my throat, easier to see if I pulled back my hair. And my stomach was sore from his punch. I sighed.

Was being in constant danger and getting hurt worth it if I got to be with Kade and Blane? And did it mean I had a death wish if my answer to that was a resounding Yes?

The shower I took was long and hot, and if there was more than water wetting my cheeks, what did it matter? There was no one there to see. I didn’t want to look at the cut on my chest again, so I shrugged into a button-down shirt to sleep in rather than my pajamas. I could button it up nearly to my chin.

I crawled under the covers and stared at the ceiling. I couldn’t sleep. In my head, I kept replaying everything I knew about the night Kandi had died. Something didn’t fit, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was.

She’d been secretly sleeping with James but had also been available for God-knew-how-many booty calls with Blane. Blane had gone to her home that night and had sex with her, though the cops didn’t know that. It couldn’t be his semen on her body because, as he’d said, he’d used a condom. So James must have stopped by after Blane left. He’d found out about Blane—maybe she’d told him—then what? He’d gone crazier than he usually was? Strangled and smothered her, then raped her?

I shuddered, remembering the feel of his hand around my throat. James had certainly seemed to enjoy hurting me. It wasn’t that far of a stretch to see him doing all that to Kandi.

If the cops could match the semen to James, then it would be proof that someone else had been there that night. If nothing else, that was reasonable doubt.

My thoughts were interrupted when the door to my room opened. I knew who was there and didn’t move as Kade stepped inside, silently closing the door behind him.

He moved to my bedside, gazing down at me. He must have seen I was awake, because he asked, “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” I said. I could make a drinking game out of how often I said that phrase.

Kade reached over and flipped on the bedside lamp. I squinted in the sudden glow, but it wasn’t that bright. He sank down onto the bed next to me.

“Where’s your nightgown?” he asked, toying with the collar of the shirt I wore.

I shrugged. “I’m glad you didn’t run into any trouble at James’s,” I said.

“Easy in, easy out,” he replied absently, but his eyes were on my throat.

His fingers moved to the buttons of my shirt, sliding them through the holes. He’d already undone three when I grabbed his wrist.

“What are you doing?”

“Blane told me what James did,” he answered, swiftly undoing the shirt’s buttons despite my hold on him. “Show me.”

I swallowed hard but couldn’t disobey. Keeping my eyes on his, I slowly parted the fabric of the shirt just enough so he could see the cut. His gaze dropped.

“It’s not that bad,” I said, swallowing hard again at the look on Kade’s face.

“You’re one tough chick,” he said finally.

“I don’t feel like one,” I confessed.

“Did you smear some bacon grease on his dick, dump him in the alley, and blow a dog whistle?” he asked.

I huffed a laugh. “Wish I’d thought of that.”

Kade’s shoes thudded to the floor and he pulled back the covers. “Move over,” he said.

“What are you doing?” I asked, even as I scooted over to make room for him.

He turned off the light and lay down next to me. “I’m tired,” he said with a sigh, draping one arm carefully over my middle. His breath was warm against my neck.

“You have your own bed, you know,” I gently reminded him, not that I was overly upset that he was in mine.

“Need to have you near me,” he said. “Know you’re okay.”

Yeah, I knew the feeling.

I started to button my shirt again, but his hands stilled mine. “Leave it.”

Probably not a good idea. But his hand was warm and reassuring against my skin, and his body, stretched alongside mine, made me feel safe. I smiled and closed my eyes.

“I promised you fireworks,” Kade whispered in my ear.

“Hmmm?” I said drowsily. I was really relaxed, though I could tell from the brightness against my eyelids that it was morning.

“I promised you fireworks and I didn’t deliver,” he said.

I patted his arm still wrapped around me. “S’okay. Next year.”

“I can’t promise you next week, much less next year,” he murmured. The warm heat of his mouth brushed my neck, my shoulder.

“Don’t say that,” I said automatically.

He paused. “Tell me what happened in Vegas.”

My eyes flew open and I stiffened, coming fully awake now. “You know what happened in Vegas,” I said, pretending ignorance.

“I mean, why did I find buttons from my shirt you wore on the floor of my room?”

My pulse shot into overdrive. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stammered.

Kade’s hand disappeared for a moment. I heard the rustle of cloth. Then he was placing something in my palm.

“I’ve carried this with me since Vegas,” he said, “trying to remember.”

He’d given me a button. I realized that must be what I’d seen him looking at several times since we’d gotten back. I squeezed my eyes shut. This couldn’t be happening.

“Please tell me. It’s driving me insane,” he rasped. “I have these scenarios in my head, and I’m terrified that I hurt you, or forced you—”

Oh God, I couldn’t talk about this. If I did, even to alleviate his concerns, it would all come out. Panic struck. “I’m going to shower,” I said, jumping out of bed and hurrying to the closet. I grabbed a pair of short denim cutoffs and a white tank before disappearing into the bathroom.

Over half an hour later, when I came out dressed for the day, I was hoping Kade would be gone. No such luck. In fact, things were much, much worse.

Kade sat on my bed, my open suitcase on the floor, with his torn shirt—the one I’d worn in Vegas—in his hand.

I nearly turned around and went back into the bathroom.

He held it up in his clenched fist. “When were you going to tell me? Ever?” His anger was palpable and I flinched.

My voice was weak when I replied, “There’s nothing—”

“Stop lying to me!” He was up and in my face now. My back hit the wall. “I remember,” he hissed. “I remember everything.”

I could feel the blood leave my head in a rush. I stared at Kade, afraid of what was going to happen now.

“You weren’t ever going to tell me?” he asked, pain in his voice and betrayal in his eyes. “Did it mean so little to you?”

“Mean so little?” I echoed in disbelief. “You didn’t even remember!”

“I was drunk!”

“Which is supposed to excuse it?” I fumed. I didn’t care that I didn’t make sense. The hurt I’d felt since that night now had an outlet.

“I don’t recall you saying no,” he hissed.

“I’m talking about how easily you forgot,” I retorted.

“Well, I remember now,” Kade said, his voice low and intent. “I remember how it felt to be inside you, the feel of your body against mine, the taste of your sweat on my tongue.”

I could hardly breathe. His face was inches away, his eyes boring into mine, when he dropped the next bombshell.

“I remember telling you I loved you. But what I don’t remember is you saying it back.”

My heart felt torn into pieces at the anguish in his eyes. “Kade,” I began quietly, “you know I care about you—”

“But you don’t love me,” he interrupted. “You love him.” Kade jerked his head toward the door and it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know who he meant. “He used you, lied to you, betrayed you. And you’re still in love with him?”

I was too stunned by his anger to speak and so just looked at him, my eyes wide.

“I saw you two last night,” he continued, stepping away from me. The cold mask I knew so well turned his expression forbidding. “So tell me, have you slept with him since we’ve been back? Did you go straight from my bed to his?”

“I—”

“Or does he even know? Did you lie to him like you lied to me?”

Anger boiled up inside me. “He knows,” I spat. “And he doesn’t care. He wants me back. What do you want me for, Kade? An easy lay when you’re in town?”

I could tell by his eyes that I was treading on dangerous ground, but I was too mad to care.

“You want to know why I didn’t tell you?” I asked, advancing on him. “Because there was no point. You told me you were going to drop out of my life and I’d never see you again. So what would knowing that we slept together have changed?”

“Maybe you just regret it so much you were glad I didn’t remember,” he accused.

“And you don’t regret it?” I asked.

“The only thing I regret is not waking up beside you the next morning.”

With that he was gone, slamming the door behind him. My stomach seemed to drop to my toes and I ran to jerk open the door, only to see Blane and Kade facing off in the hallway.