Point of No Return

CHAPTER SEVEN

The flight attendant handed Kade the vodka tonic he’d requested, a double, and moved on down the aisle to the rest of the customers in first class. Kade stared out the window, morosely drinking the cold liquor.

The seat beside him was empty, which suited him. He didn’t want to talk, and if someone had tried to make chitchat with him, he’d have been hard-pressed not to strangle them.

And with Kade Dennon, the threat wasn’t an idle one.

It had been almost a month since he’d last seen her.

He closed his eyes, Kathleen’s face immediately coming into focus in his mind. If he tried really hard, he could smell her scent, taste the salt of the sweat on her skin when he was buried inside her, feel the marks her nails left on his shoulders, hear her whimper and moan when he made her come.

And he’d almost made it happen. He’d almost gotten to keep her.

Almost.

The plan had seemed like a dream come true. He’d take Kathleen with him and they’d leave Indy, leave old memories behind and go make new ones. But a sense of foreboding had crept over Kade the moment Kathleen had left his apartment that fateful day—the day he’d had to give up everything he’d ever wanted.

He’d wanted to think it was just his cynicism overreacting, but listening to his gut had saved his life too many times for him to ignore the warning. Which was why he hadn’t been surprised when his cell had rung only minutes after Kathleen had left to tell Blane the news. The call was from a blocked number.

“Yeah,” he answered.

“Dennon,” a male voice greeted him. “You’re still alive.”

“So it would seem,” Kade replied. “Who’s this?”

“Meet me tonight, under the Davidson Street bridge,” the man said, ignoring Kade’s question. “Nine o’clock.”

“And why would I do that?”

“Do you think we don’t know about the girl?” A pause. “See you tonight, Dennon.”

The line went dead.

Kade slowly slid the phone back into the pocket of his jeans. He gazed out the window without seeing anything.

Kathleen.

He’d failed miserably at protecting her, saving her life several times by mere luck and chance. Kade put her into more danger just by being around her. And now she was having a baby. His baby.

The complete shock and happiness that knowledge had brought him earlier faded in light of reality. Who was he kidding? His past wasn’t going away and the phone call was a reminder of that. Only months ago, Kade had killed a man who knew about Kathleen, wanted to use her as leverage on him. How much more would they target her now? And next time, he might be too late.

And what kind of father would he be? The only role model he’d ever had was Blane, for a while before Blane had left for the Navy, then Gerard. It wasn’t like Kade was the kind of guy to coach Little League or soccer. His skills revolved around a computer and a gun.

Blane, however, would make the perfect dad. He already had a house and a steady career that didn’t include dead bodies left in his wake. All he was missing was the pregnant girl—a girl he already loved, had wanted to marry, and no doubt still wanted to marry. All of Blane’s dreams could have come true—if not for Kade.

Guilt hit Kade hard, sucking the breath from him.

How could he have done this to Blane? To his brother? To the only person who’d given a shit about him when he was nothing but a skinny delinquent, intent on ruining his own life and taking as many people down with him as he could.

He should’ve stayed away, far away from Kathleen. Kade had known instantly that she was his Kryptonite, yet he’d been drawn to her like the proverbial moth to a flame. Now Blane—the one who should be with her, the one who deserved her—had lost her.

And yet, what was he to do? Kade loved her. The rainbows-and-unicorns, worship-the-ground-she-walks-on, listen-to-bad-Taylor-Swift-songs kind of love. He’d do anything for her, but he was too selfish to give her up, not even for his brother.

Kade went to a closet in the far corner, pressing on a disguised latch to open the hidden panel in the back. Pressing his thumb to the scanner, he waited while it verified his identity, then opened. He pulled out a handgun and two clips, sliding one into the gun and the other into the pocket of his jeans before he closed the panel again.

Going into his office, Kade transferred money from his accounts in Grand Cayman to a new account in Kathleen’s name. He then took the precaution of wiping the hard drive, starting a program that would reformat it and write data to all the sectors.

Kade didn’t know what he’d be walking into tonight, but there was always the possibility that he wouldn’t walk out.

In his bedroom, he pulled on a black T-shirt, throwing a black button-down shirt on over it that he left untucked to conceal the gun lodged in the waistband at his back. The wounds healing in his chest twinged when he moved a certain way, but Kade ignored the pain. There was nothing he could do about it, and besides, duty called.

Was he insane? Insane for wanting what seemed just within his grasp? Kathleen, a family, a life. A year ago, his sole focus had been surviving the next job, not that he’d cared much one way or the other. When your time was up, it was up—and all the wishing and hoping in the world couldn’t change that.

But now, for the first time, he felt fear. He was afraid. Not just because he wanted to live—he did—but because he had someone to live for. He had to be there, had to protect her, because there was no one to do it if he wasn’t around.

Kade wasn’t a fool. He’d seen how Kathleen had rushed to leave the hospital every morning before Blane got there. He’d known that Blane had shut down on her, the way he always did when he wanted to stop feeling. Kade turned to anger when he wanted to escape; Blane turned to ice.

Grabbing his keys, Kade headed out the door. Twenty minutes later, he’d parked a couple of blocks away from where he was to meet the guy and started walking. His phone buzzed and he looked down at the screen.

Kathleen.

Kade hesitated, then hit the button to send the call to voice mail. He couldn’t talk to her now. She’d want to know where he was and why. He’d have to lie, because if he told her the truth, she’d worry.

The weight of the gun at his back reassured Kade, as did the one strapped to his ankle. A knife was hidden under his other pants leg, though he hoped it didn’t come to that. After two weeks in the hospital, his muscles felt stiff from disuse.

Kade melted from shadow to shadow, silently making his way to the bridge. Homeless people often camped around this area, but there didn’t seem to be anyone around tonight. Sliding into the deep shadows under the bridge, Kade put his back to the concrete and waited.

He didn’t have to wait long. A few minutes later, a dark sedan pulled up, its headlights flashing over Kade before they were extinguished. He watched as a man got out and began walking toward him. Kade recognized him as George Bradshaw, erstwhile campaign manager for Senator Keaston, now his chief of staff.

“Dennon,” George said in acknowledgment when he was about ten feet away. He wore a suit and was maybe in his mid-thirties.

“George,” Kade replied with mock cordiality.

“I believe we have a mutual friend,” George said.

“I don’t have any friends.”

George laughed softly. “I suppose you’re right. Friends of yours have a nasty habit of turning up dead, isn’t that right?”

“So do people who piss me off and waste my time,” Kade replied with a cold smile that disappeared immediately. “What do you want?”

“A man who likes to get down to business. I can appreciate that.” George casually pushed his hands into his pockets as he walked closer to Kade, who stiffened, but the man didn’t pull a weapon. “Your uncle sent me with a message.”

Kade’s expression didn’t change. “I don’t have an uncle.”

“Of course you do,” George said with a calculating look. “Do you think I wouldn’t know every detail of Senator Keaston’s life? And Blane Kirk’s? You remember him, don’t you? He is your brother, after all.”

“You’ve been misinformed.”

George shrugged. “I don’t give a shit if you want to keep playing this game, because here’s what you’re going to do.” He stepped closer to Kade. “You’re going to ditch the girl and get your ass out of town.”

“Fuck you.”

“Kirk needs to get his shit together. He’s not backing out of the race. And if this chick is what’ll put his fucking head back on straight, then that’s what he gets.”

“You can tell Keaston to go fuck himself,” Kade snarled. “No one pulls my strings, and no one is going to pull Blane’s, either.”

The two men stared at each other in a charged silence.

“Blane Kirk owes some very important people,” George said. “This isn’t the kind of game where you can just fold your cards and go home. You’ve fucked things up already. So hear this, Dennon.”

George got in Kade’s face, his finger poking hard at Kade’s chest. “If you think you can just say ‘Fuck you’ and not do as we say? Then I swear to God, we’ll kill them both.”

“You’re full of shit,” Kade scoffed. “Keaston’s not going to kill Blane.”

“Blane is useless to us if he fucks over his career, and if he can’t be controlled, he’s a liability. Frankly, he’d be more use to us dead at this point.”

Rage flashed through Kade, and he reacted without thought. In the sliver of time from one second to the next, he had George’s hand in his and bent his fingers back. George yelled as three of his fingers snapped and Kade forced him to his knees.

When George looked up from where he’d landed on the ground, he was staring at the barrel of a gun pointed at the center of his forehead.

“What the fuck, Dennon?” George cried. “Do you have any fucking clue what you just did? I work for the senator, you dumb fuck!”

“You pissed me off,” Kade gritted out. “Threatening the only two people on the fucking planet that I give a shit about. That was a bad idea. You and my uncle may think you can put me on a leash”—he leaned down to hiss in George’s face—“but you can’t.”

For the first time, fear seemed to strike George. “You can’t kill me,” he babbled. “Keaston sent me. I’m just the messenger.”

“And I’m sending a message.”

Kade’s gun barked once. George’s body went limp and dropped to the ground, his eyes staring sightlessly upward.

Shoving his gun into his waistband at the small of his back, Kade searched George, taking his wallet and cell phone before heading back to his car. A few minutes later, he was speeding away into the night.

Kade’s gut churned as he drove. Reaching into the glove box, he pulled out a burner phone. He bought a couple of new ones every few weeks. Being able to make untraceable calls came in handy. Dialing a number from memory, he waited while it rang. When a man answered, Kade got right to the point.

“Let me be the first to offer my condolences on the death of your chief of staff,” he said coolly. “Good help’s so hard to come by these days.”

There was a pause. “Goddammit, Kade!” Senator Keaston exploded. “What the hell did you do?”

“Cut the bullshit,” Kade snapped. “You should have known what was going to happen when you sent him. You’re going to threaten me with killing Blane and Kathleen? Are you out of your fucking mind?”

“I’m through watching you screw up everything I’ve worked for,” Keaston retorted. “If you don’t do as you’re told, I’ll have no choice.”

“You honestly expect me to believe you’d kill Blane—”

“I know about the baby,” Keaston interrupted, making Kade’s blood run cold. “Did you think I wouldn’t find out she’s carrying his child? Health records are the government’s property now, and I am the government.”

The words “It’s my baby, not Blane’s” were on the tip of Kade’s tongue, but he forced himself to stay silent, waiting to see where Keaston would go with this.

“If you think I’m going to let some white-trash bartender run amok and go to the press in five years when Blane’s running for president with some tragic tale of a love child, then you’re dead wrong,” Keaston said, his words laced with disgust.

“Since when do you give a shit about Blane’s love life?” Kade scoffed.

“Blane’s been out of his fucking mind the last few weeks, ever since you were shot,” Keaston fumed. “He’s lost all his ambition for office, as if he doesn’t even care anymore. Then I find out why. That the little bitch is knocked up and you have swept in to fuck Blane over. Why am I not surprised? You always seem to screw up the best-laid plans.”

“Maybe Blane’s just realizing he’s been following your ambitions, and not his own,” Kade retorted. The guilt he’d felt earlier returned with a vengeance. Despite his words to Keaston, Kade knew Blane had worked with a single-minded focus on building a career destined for politics for as long as Kade could remember.

“Bullshit,” Keaston spat. “He took you from nothing, from a fucking orphanage, and gave you everything! I never should have helped him find you, that was my second mistake. My first was not getting rid of your whore of a mother when I had the chance.”

Cold shock poured through Kade. “What are you talking about?”

“Blane’s father came to me when he found out your mother was pregnant. I thought about killing her then, but your father seemed convinced she was willing to take a payoff and disappear. I should have gone with my instincts.”

“What payoff? She didn’t have any money,” Kade argued.

“You think I was going to let John squander his money on some pregnant gold digger? I told her to never darken our door if she wanted to live, and if she breathed a word of who the baby’s father was—who your father was—I’d take you from her and she’d never see you again.”

Kade slammed on the brakes, the car fishtailing as it swerved on the empty road. “You sonofabitch—” he hissed.

“Shut up, Kade,” Keaston broke in. “You listen to me and by God you listen good. You’re going to go over to Blane’s and convince him not to drop out of the race. Then you’re going to tell him you want nothing to do with the girl and that she really loves him, she’s just confused. He needs to stand by her side, marry her, give the child a name. Blane’s all about honor. I’m sure you can convince him. Then you’re going to leave and never, ever come back.”

The words were like a poisoned blade, the way they sliced through Kade, leaving a burning agony in their wake. Kade swallowed. “And if I don’t?”

“Then I will put down that girl like a fucking dog, you worthless piece of shit, and I’ll enjoy doing it. The only thing saving her now is that she carries Blane’s child and he still loves her. But that can change. Blane owes people—I owe people—people who do not take kindly to donating millions to a candidate who drops out of the fucking race because of a goddamn broken heart. I’ve put my ass on the line for him, but if he doesn’t get his shit together, I’m not responsible for what happens to him.”

“If anyone so much as touches my brother,” Kade spat, “I will fucking drop you, old man.”

“Do you think everything can be solved in that fashion?” Keaston asked, his voice rife with contempt. “Kill me and she dies, no question. I call it my Kade Dennon insurance policy.”

Kade didn’t see a way out. If he stayed, defied Keaston, Kathleen would die. If he tried to kill Keaston, Kathleen would still die. The only winning move was to take himself out of the equation. To do exactly as Keaston said.

Unless he confessed, told Keaston the baby was his, not Blane’s.

And then what?

He and Kathleen would be constantly on the run, evading Keaston’s reach, because Kade had no doubt that Keaston was crazy enough to try and kill them anyway, just because of Blane. Look what he’d done to Kade’s mother. How much worse would he do to Kathleen? It was no way to live, no way to raise a child. Kade could protect them, yes, but it would only take a moment, one split-second of inattention, for them both to be gone.

Kade could see it now. Her body limp in his arms, a small hole in the center of her forehead as blood poured from the massive exit wound in the back of her head, streaking her blonde hair with crimson while her sightless blue eyes stared up at him.

Kathleen—dead. Blane would never forgive him. And he’d never forgive himself.

The only protection Kathleen really had was that Blane loved her, and that Keaston believe she carried Blane’s child.

If Kade loved Kathleen, if he was serious when he told himself he’d do anything for her, he’d let Keaston have his way. If he really loved her, he’d want her to live, be happy. And Blane would be happy, too. Maybe Blane would forgive him and the guilt inside Kade would go away.

Kade would go to Blane’s, convince him to get back in the race and that Kathleen loved him, not Kade. Blane would love her and the baby, would raise him as his own—Kade had no doubt about that. Kathleen still loved Blane, and she’d get over Kade. It was the best choice, the only choice, he had.

“Okay,” Kade rasped. “You win. But hear this—if anything happens to either one of them, I will hunt you down and you won’t even see me coming.”

He ended the call. Helpless fury filled him, as well as an agony that was all consuming.

He’d been outplayed, outmaneuvered, and now he’d lose everything that meant anything to him.

Kade parked in front of Blane’s house. For the last time, he suddenly realized. After tonight, he wouldn’t be coming back, wouldn’t be seeing his brother again. Perhaps ever.

Pain knifed through him, and he had to take a deep breath and close his eyes, leaning his head back against the seat. He had to bury it deep, in the place he kept all the things he didn’t want to feel. The only thing that was going to see him through what he had to do was to shut it all down. Turning off emotions was what he had to do if he wanted to survive. Otherwise, the pain would destroy him.

The pain of leaving them. Blane. Kathleen. His unborn child.

Everything inside him rebelled at what he had to do, the things he had to say. The thought of seeing the trust on Blane’s face turn to horror and dismay, and finally, loathing . . . If Blane knew all that Keaston had done—was doing—nothing would stop him from going after his uncle, a move that would ultimately destroy Blane. Kade wouldn’t let that happen. It was the one thing Blane had always underestimated—Kade’s unswerving loyalty.

All Kade could do was make a clean break from them both . . . and hope they put the pieces back together. Blane and Kathleen would cling to each other. Kade knew Blane loved her, and she loved him. They could forget about Kade and be happy, raise a family . . .

The thought made him want to eat a bullet.

Inside, it was dark save for a light burning in the library. Kade pushed open the door, unsurprised to see Blane sitting at the piano. He wasn’t playing, though. He just sat, his body resting on his arms folded on top.

Kade committed the scene to memory, recalling the many times over the years that he’d sat listening to Blane play. It had always amazed him, the way Blane’s fingers had flown over the keys, producing melodies that spoke of emotions too powerful for words.

Blane seemed to sense his presence, turning his body to face Kade, his expression blank rather than welcoming.

Well, what had he expected? Kathleen had been there. Kade should be glad. Blane’s anger might make things easier. But he felt far from glad.

Glancing around, Kade realized the room was missing a lot of stuff. He frowned, seeing some broken glass on the floor, in one corner. Blane had cleaned up, but obviously hadn’t gotten it all.

“I see you went all rock star on this place,” Kade said. He’d only seen Blane do that once before. It had been a long time ago. “You missed the corner. Mona’s going to be upset.”

“What do you want, Kade?” Blane asked, ignoring his comment.

“I hear you’re thinking of throwing in the towel on the whole governor thing,” Kade said.

Blane stared at him, his face utterly expressionless. “That’s why you’re here?”

“All I’ve heard for years is how much you wanted it,” Kade said. “Seems pretty stupid to give it up when you’re so close.”

Blane shrugged. “It doesn’t matter anymore. Besides, my poll numbers have tanked since the arrest. I don’t have a chance in hell of winning that race.”

Kade cleared his throat. “That’s easily fixed,” he said. “People love a fucking wedding. Get married.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Blane spat, anger flashing to the surface and obliterating the calm demeanor it seemed he’d only been pretending to have. “Or are you just here to rub it in? Kat told me you and she are leaving tomorrow.”

“She’s half right,” Kade replied. “I’m leaving. Not her. And it’s tonight.”

Blane frowned. “What?”

Kade walked to the sideboard and poured himself an inch of the scotch that Blane always kept there, downing it in one swallow.

“I’ve changed my mind,” he answered, keeping his gaze averted from Blane’s.

“Changed your mind about what exactly?” Blane persisted, a note of warning in his voice.

Kade forced a laugh. “Do you really think I’m cut out for dirty diapers and a fucking minivan? Not to mention tying myself to one woman for the rest of my life. Please.” He poured more scotch, using it to wash down the bitter taste of bile in his throat.

That statement seemed to ricochet around the room, fading into a charged silence.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Blane ground out.

A fine tremor went through Kade’s hand at the leashed fury in Blane’s voice. He still didn’t look at him, instead carefully setting down the crystal glass he held. The crystal had belonged to Blane’s mother and Kade didn’t want it broken.

“What the fuck would I do with a wife and kid,” Kade said, his voice flat and cold. “Granted, she’s an incredible lay, am I right? But there are plenty of those.” His eyes slipped shut as agony seared his chest. The words felt like acid on his tongue. He braced himself for what he knew was coming, and he wasn’t surprised when Blane suddenly hauled him around to face him, his grip like a vise on his arm.

“What the hell, Kade!” Blane hissed, his eyes flashing with fury. “You’re in love with her. You told me. You told her. Now you’ve got her, she’s yours, and you’re tossing it away because she got pregnant?”

“I didn’t sign up to be a dad,” Kade snapped, jerking away. “And I’m not changing my entire life because some chick can’t remember to take her fucking birth control pill.”

“This isn’t ‘some chick’—it’s Kathleen!” Blane yelled. He seemed to get himself under control with effort. “You took her away from me, got her to fall in love with you. You cannot just leave her. You know what Dad did to your mom. Why would you do the same to Kathleen?”

Kade’s eyes narrowed. “I can do whatever the fuck I want,” he said. “Maybe she’s just not as interesting now that she’s no longer a challenge. You love her so much, care about the brat she’s carrying, then you marry her. That’ll kill two birds with one stone, right? You’re welcome.”

Blane’s face paled and it took everything Kade had not to crumple beneath the disgust and contempt in Blane’s eyes.

He couldn’t take any more. He had to get out of there.

Jerking out of Blane’s grip, Kade walked to the door, careful to keep his steps unhurried. Digging in his pocket, he fished out a folded piece of paper and tossed it carelessly onto the coffee table.

“Here’s an account with some money,” he said. “She can use that to take care of herself and—” To his horror, his voice broke and he abruptly cut himself off. Thankfully, Blane didn’t seem to notice. When Blane spoke again, his tone was low and threatening.

“You walk out that door—you leave her—and you’re no longer my brother.”

Kade’s hand was on the knob but the words made him freeze. He couldn’t stop himself from looking back at Blane. Their gazes met.

Words he shouldn’t say fell out of Kade’s mouth anyway. “Remember what you promised me,” he said, his voice much too rough. Then he was out the door and in his car, Blane’s house becoming a distant blur in the rearview mirror.

The late-night breeze drifted past Kade as he stood in the shadows, watching Kathleen’s window. He’d left Blane’s house an hour ago, but hadn’t been able to get farther than the city limits before turning back.

Placing a call to the woman he used as both maid and housekeeper, he gave her instructions on shutting down his apartment—what to put in storage, what to throw away. He didn’t know when, or if, he’d ever be back.

His conscience, a part of him Kade had thought long since dead, was stirring, urging him to go up and knock on Kathleen’s door. But what would he say? That he’d just come to say goodbye? Kade knew the truth—if he walked in her door, he wouldn’t have the strength to leave, and so he’d be signing her death warrant.

A car drove up and Kade watched as Blane got out. He took the stairs two at a time, then stood outside her door, hesitating. Kade had left him with the shit job of telling Kathleen. Hopefully, making Blane the messenger would work to bring them back together. If there was one thing that was certain, it was that Blane deserved to get the girl—not Kade.

Finally, Blane knocked and a moment later, Kathleen answered.

Kade strained his neck, trying to see her around Blane’s form blocking the doorway, but he didn’t even get a glimpse of her. Blane entered the apartment, the door closing behind him.

And that was that.

Kade leaned against the tree behind him, the rough bark of the trunk abrading his back through the thin T-shirt he wore. He should leave. Blane was there and Kade didn’t want or need to see Kathleen with him.

His mind told him this, but the masochist inside him wouldn’t let him leave, forcing him to stay and watch. Would Blane stay the night? Would he sleep in her bed?

The idea of Kathleen making love with Blane had Kade shoving a hand through his hair, his skin practically itching with frustration, his muscles tensing as though preparing for a fight. He couldn’t get the picture out of his head, his imagination painting Kathleen’s naked body in vivid detail beneath Blane’s. The sounds she made, the way her legs would wrap around his waist . . .

To his surprise, and shameful relief, Blane suddenly reappeared after only a few minutes. He went next door and spoke to the neighbor—Kade couldn’t remember her name—then got in his car and drove away.

Kade wanted to both yell at Blane for leaving Kathleen alone, and thank him, for the same reason.

He needed to go. If he stuck around there like some love-smitten teenager hiding among the trees, the temptation to go see Kathleen would eventually become more than he could withstand. And she didn’t need that. Kade needed to disappear from her life so she could get on with living it.

With Blane.

Kade stepped farther into the trees, preparing to go, then stopped when Kathleen’s door opened again and she came flying out. His breath caught as pain pierced him, his eyes drinking in what he could see of her in the faint glow cast from the parking lot lights.

Hurrying down the steps, she got inside her car. Seconds later, she was pulling out of the lot.

Where was she going? If Kade had to guess, he assumed she was heading to Blane’s. Maybe she’d turned him down and now realized that was a mistake. They were perfect for each other. The two of them together looked like each one had been made to complement the other. Kathleen was as pretty, innocent, and as girl-next-door as it was possible to be. Team that with Blane’s all-American heartthrob good looks, and they made a formidable pair.

The cameras would love them.

Kade was standing in front of Kathleen’s door without having consciously decided to move. Automatically picking the lock, he stepped inside.

What the hell am I doing? he thought. Why can’t I just leave? Why torture myself?

But it seemed logic wasn’t ruling his actions. Not tonight.

Kade drifted back to her bedroom. The sight of the half-packed suitcase sitting on the bed made his throat close up.

He was doing the right thing. He was. Maybe she didn’t understand or wouldn’t agree, but eventually she’d be glad he was gone. Both she and Blane would be.

A discarded T-shirt lay on the floor and Kade scooped it up, recognizing it as one of Kathleen’s favorite sleep shirts. Though she had lingerie and pajamas, he’d most often found her sleeping in T-shirts.

A memory came to him, of when he’d once come to Kathleen’s apartment looking for Blane. The Santinis had hired Kade to kill her. He had sat in a chair in a corner of her bedroom, watching her sleep as he’d contemplated what to do. If Kade hadn’t found the photos they’d used to blackmail Blane—if he hadn’t realized Blane had probably told them to go fuck themselves—he would’ve killed Kathleen without a second thought.

But Blane had disappeared, leaving Kade suspecting the Santinis of taking matters into their own hands.

She’d been wearing a little T-shirt then, the fabric riding up to her waist as she slept, teasing Kade with a view of the tiny pair of satin panties she wore. The virginal white fabric had nearly screamed “off limits” but that hadn’t stopped him from wanting her. He’d briefly wondered what she’d do if she woke with his mouth on the paradise between her thighs . . .

Luckily, Kathleen had woken before Kade had done something stupid, her eyes frightened when she saw him, then filling with terror when she realized he was there to kill her.

In the end, he hadn’t been able to do either of the two actions he’d considered—he couldn’t kill her and he couldn’t fuck her. Maybe it had been the innocence etched into every word she said, every move she made. Or perhaps it was the purity of her soul that shone in her clear blue eyes.

Kathleen was good, and even after all the darkness and evil that surrounded him and lived inside him, Kade had recognized it—and been unable to destroy something so precious and rare.

Of course, it hadn’t hurt that she looked like a goddamn fairy-tale princess, her long hair lying in tousled waves over her shoulders and down her back. The shade of gold had a rose hue, as though the locks had been kissed by the sunrise. Her cheeks were ivory porcelain, a flush blooming in them when Kade had touched her, his hands slipping under her T-shirt because he hadn’t been able to go a moment longer not knowing how the curve of her hip felt in his hand, or the exact dip of her waist.

Her eyes, still heavy with sleep, had held his gaze captive. The scent of her perfume drifted between them, reminding Kade of a time long ago—a time when he’d thought fate would be kind, that he’d paid enough in blood and tears for a lifetime.

He’d been wrong.

Holding the T-shirt to his face, Kade inhaled deeply. The fabric was drenched in Kathleen’s scent. Not her perfume, but the scent of her skin and hair.

A wave of pure agony washed over him and Kade stumbled to the bed, sitting down heavily. Kathleen had only fitfully made the bed, her pillow still dented from the impression of her head, and he found himself resting his fingers on the hollow.

How quickly would she forget about him? Would she tell his baby about him, or would Blane’s name only be spoken as the father?

Kade abruptly stood. Time to go.

Everything was blurred as he walked through the kitchen, and it wasn’t until he was sitting inside his car that he realized he still clutched Kathleen’s T-shirt in his hand.