Point of No Return

CHAPTER NINE

Kathleen, can you get me another?”

I looked up from where I’d been crouched down loading bottles of beer into the fridge below the bar.

“Sure, Pete,” I answered. Standing, I grabbed another frosty mug and filled it from the tap, tipping it to the side so the golden liquid hit the side of the glass rather than the bottom as it filled. The head wasn’t quite as thick and you could get more beer in the glass if you poured it that way. When the white foam had reached the rim and spilled over just slightly, I set the mug in front of Pete. “Here you go.”

“Thanks, sugar,” he said, his worn, suntanned face creasing in a smile. I smiled back.

Pete used to work with my dad, once upon a time. He’d retired from the force a couple of years ago, and now spent his days outdoors, tending his extensive garden, lawn, and flowerbeds. It seemed he had a habit of stopping by the one and only local pub for a beer around midday. If the Cubs were playing, he’d stay and watch the game on one of the televisions in the bar, though I teased him that rooting for the Cubs was bound to end in disappointment.

“I’m a perennial optimist,” he’d reply. “Sooner or later it’s bound to pay off.”

I’d been back home now for almost a month, and in some ways it seemed like I’d never left. Although technically I didn’t need the money since what Kade had left was more than adequate for my needs, I’d wanted a job so I had something to do. Sitting around feeling miserable and sorry for myself wasn’t an option.

Once I’d had time to recover from the shock of Kade’s “parting gift,” I saw the logic in what Blane had said. If it was just me, I wouldn’t have touched a dime of that money. But it wasn’t just me. I had our baby to consider. I had to buy things—things a baby needed—and eventually there’d be braces to pay for, and college, maybe a wedding if the baby was a girl. It would be foolish of me not to use the money, so I set aside my pride and did what I needed to do.

I’d returned to my old job at O’Sullivan’s, an Irish pub where I’d worked when my mom had been sick. The owner, Charlie, was a wizened older man of indeterminate age who had owned the place for as long as I could remember. He’d been glad to see me. I think. It was kind of hard to tell with Charlie, but he’d sort of smiled and then asked when I could start. I’d put on an apron the next day.

The sounds of the pub were familiar and comforting to me as I worked—the televisions broadcasting the baseball game, the clink of dishes and the sizzle of the grill from the back, the low rumble of conversation from the dozen or so patrons in the middle of the afternoon.

I’d been lucky when I’d shown up in town. One of the first people I’d run into when I stopped in the little café on the town square for lunch had been Jan, an old friend from high school.

“Oh my God, is that you, Kathleen?” she’d exclaimed, wrapping me in a hug. A cloud of perfume descended. “Are you back or just visiting?”

When I’d confirmed I was, indeed, back in town, she’d wasted no time in telling me everything going on with her, ordering a cup of coffee, and sitting with me while I ate my chicken salad sandwich and chips.

“So I’m a Realtor now,” she said, after a monologue about how she’d married Brian, a guy I vaguely remembered from high school who now sold insurance. She waved a manicured hand as if it was nothing, but I could tell she was real proud of her new job. “I can help you find a place to stay, if you’re looking to stick around.” Her shiny platinum blonde hair bounced around her shoulders as she spoke.

“I am,” I said, and her eyes had lit up like fireflies.

“Wonderful! I know just the place for you! The owner is a widow who’s moved to Florida in one of those, you know, retirement communities. Anyway, she’s looking to sell her house. It’s out by the old Miller place, remember?”

And I did. Jan had taken me to see it right then and I knew instantly that it was perfect. About three or four miles out of the town proper, it was in the country and the last place on a long gravel road. The nearest neighbors, the Millers, weren’t within shouting distance but were within walking distance.

An older home that had been built in the forties, it was a two-story white house with a deep porch that spanned the front, complete with a swing. In the back, another porch was screened in and overlooked a vast yard dotted with big oak trees. Roses climbed a trellis, their blooms perfuming the air, and it seemed they’d been allowed to grow a bit wild and hadn’t been trimmed back in a while.

The downstairs had a living room, kitchen, bath, and bedroom. Upstairs were another two bedrooms and a bath. The place was even furnished, and though the pieces were older, they looked like they’d been well cared for.

I bought it immediately and closed within ten days. It was amazing how fast things could be done when you paid with cash, and thanks to Jan, I’d been allowed to start staying in the house right away, so I hadn’t even had to spend one night at the old Covered Bridge Motel on the outskirts of town. Jan was so pleased and excited with the sale, I thought her perfectly applied cosmetics might crack with the huge smile she sported whenever I saw her in town.

I hadn’t yet gone back to Indy for the rest of my things, and thought I might just get a company to move the stuff into storage for me. Kade had bought all the furniture when he’d had my apartment redone after the fire, and I wasn’t sure I needed the reminder. My personal things I’d brought with me, so the only real reason for me to return was to visit Alisha.

I needed to call her, I decided as I cleared the empty glasses on the bar left by two customers. I hadn’t talked to her in a couple of weeks, not since I’d told her about the house and reassured her that I was doing okay.

And I was. Mostly.

Rushville was a small town and everyone had known me and my family. People I’d grown up around greeted me with open arms, genuinely glad to see me back. Old Mrs. Johnson had even stopped by my place to bring me a casserole she’d made and welcome me home.

No one asked why I was back or inquired too deeply as to what I’d been up to while I was gone. My family was part of the town’s tragedy—my dad’s death hitting the community hard when it had happened nearly ten years ago now, then everyone had known about my mom’s battle with the cancer that had eventually taken her life. No one had batted an eye when I’d moved away. I think most people understood that I’d needed time and space, but they also knew that there was no place like home, so it hadn’t seemed a bit strange when I’d turned up out of the blue.

“Think we’ll be busy tonight?”

I glanced up at Michelle, the waitress. I’d gone to high school with her, too, but she’d been a couple of years older than me and we hadn’t known each other real well. We’d chatted a bit since I’d returned, since we were often on the same shifts, and I liked her.

Her parents were farmers and Michelle had been a bit of a wild child, the youngest of four. Pregnant at seventeen, she’d married the baby’s daddy, but that hadn’t worked out. He’d up and left them when baby number two was on the way, and she’d been on her own ever since.

Michelle worked hard and had a little place of her own. Her mom often helped out, watching John, who was now ten, and little Maddie, just turned four.

“I hope so,” I said, knowing that slow business meant fewer tips. “There’s a doubleheader Little League game tonight, someone said, so we’ll probably get people once that’s over.”

Rushville was small enough that the ebb and flow of town life affected most everyone. If there was a game, chances were you knew somebody who’d be there. Either because their kid was playing, or they were going to support a friend whose kid was playing.

“Is Carol coming in later, do you know?” Michelle asked, sliding onto a barstool.

“Yeah, I think she’s on at six?” I answered, trying to recall the schedule in my head. “Then it’s just the three of us on the floor until close.” Of course, closing time in Rushville was way earlier than in Indy. Here, if no one was in the bar at eleven thirty or even eleven, we closed. Technically, we closed at midnight, but usually the pub stayed open that late only on the weekends.

Carol was a bit over thirty and new to town, having moved here only six months ago. She was single, didn’t have any kids, and I wasn’t sure what had brought her to Rushville but hadn’t pried. She kept to herself and seemed nice enough.

Michelle and I chatted while it was slow, then things started picking up for the dinner rush. There were two other restaurants in town, but one was the café that only served breakfast and lunch. The other was a chain all-you-can-eat buffet place where a lot of families with kids ate. The result was that though O’Sullivan’s was a pub, people came to eat as well as drink there.

The main cook was a guy named Danny, who had an overabundance of personality and was impossible not to like. He was black and about six feet tall, but skinny as a post. Danny fancied himself an undiscovered singer of some talent, so he was often belting out tunes while he worked the grill. In his early twenties, he said he was saving money to head to California, and that he’d made it to the final rounds of callbacks for one of those talent shows on TV that held auditions all around the country.

I hadn’t told anyone that I was pregnant. First, it wasn’t really anyone’s business, and second, I wasn’t ready to answer questions. Although I was pretty universally liked, there were still a lot of eyebrows that would go up when my “condition” became common knowledge. I didn’t think anyone would be outright mean to me—times were a lot different from twenty years ago—but I wanted more time to settle in. I’d barely grown accustomed to the idea myself. I wasn’t yet ready to spread my future status as a single mom around town.

The usual dinner rush was delayed because, as I’d predicted, everyone went to the game, which meant that business started hopping around nine thirty. Carol, Michelle, and I didn’t have time to spare as we hustled food and drinks. A lot of people liked to sit at the bar to eat, so I was going nonstop. After the initial rush, moms started departing with tired kids in tow. Some of the men stayed put to have another drink or two as they recounted the game. The Colts had a preseason game coming up on the weekend, so conversation also revolved around the team and their chances for the year.

I filled a pitcher of beer and headed to a table of seven guys. Several of them I knew from high school and they were regulars, often stopping by in either twos or threes or sometimes all together, like tonight. They were all buddies, though two were unmarried. The rest were in various stages of early marriage, some with babies on the way or young children.

“Hey, Kathleen, how’re you doing tonight?” one of them asked. His name was Matt and he’d been two years ahead of me in school. He was nice and good-looking, with blue eyes and light brown hair. Matt’s dad was a pig farmer and now that he was getting up there in age, Matt mostly ran the rather affluent family business. In school, he hadn’t paid me a bit of mind, but it seemed he was looking to settle down and he’d been real friendly to me since I’d got back. We’d had several conversations and I enjoyed seeing him come in, which he’d been doing more often lately.

“I’m good, Matt,” I said with a smile. “How was the game tonight?” Matt had a buddy, Steve, who was several years older and had two kids, twin boys, on the team. Matt helped coach. He was a big guy, over six feet, with broad shoulders and lean hips. He had the perfect athletic physique, honed by years of working on a farm.

“It was fun, the kids did great,” he replied, his enthusiasm contagious.

I smiled and turned to go, but he stopped me with a hand on my arm. I turned back, raising my eyebrows. “Did you need something else?” I asked.

Matt’s ears turned a little pink as he tugged me closer, as though he wanted to say something quietly so that the guys he was with wouldn’t hear. They didn’t seem to be paying attention, instead arguing over the relative strengths and weaknesses of the Colts’ offensive line.

“Um, Kathleen,” he said in an undertone. I leaned down a little to hear him. “I was just wondering if you’d want to have dinner with me Saturday, if you’re not working. Or Friday. Or, just, whenever you’re off.”

It was real sweet, how nervous he seemed, which took me by surprise. I hadn’t garnered much attention in high school from boys, but it seemed age and time had turned me into a girl they now noticed. I’d caught a few glances my way during the past few weeks, but Matt was the first to actually ask me out.

Of course, I had no idea what to say. I wasn’t ready to go out on a date with someone, not when I still lay awake nights staring at the ceiling and seeing Kade’s face every time I closed my eyes. And what was the proper protocol for telling anyone I might get serious with that, oh, by the way, I was having another man’s child in a little over seven months?

“Thanks, Matt,” I said finally, “but I . . . can’t right now. Ask me again sometime, will you?” I smiled, hoping to soften the rejection, and it seemed to work because the initial disappointment on his face was followed by a grin.

“I sure will,” he said.

I headed back to the bar, breathing a quiet sigh. Things were complicated enough in my life without involving another man in the picture. But I also counted my blessings. Things could be worse, that’s for sure. I had my own place, and didn’t have to worry about money. I was close enough to Indy to still keep in touch with Blane once the baby was born. I was sure Mona and Gerard would want to be involved in the baby’s life, too, as well as his Uncle Blane. At least, I hoped so.

Though I hadn’t yet broken the news to Chance, which I was dreading, I thought I could count on Lucy to support me. She knew what being a single mom was like and I didn’t think she’d let Chance rant for too long about Kade, which he was sure to do once he found out Kade was no longer in the picture.

The evenings were getting cooler now that September was just days away, and people lingered tonight. I didn’t mind. There wasn’t much to go home to and I enjoyed listening to people talk. Michelle left, so it was just me, Carol, and Danny by the time eleven thirty rolled around.

The group of seven guys had dwindled to four and I hovered by their table as I delivered another pitcher. They were feeling good but weren’t drunk, and were trying to get me to solve a friendly disagreement. I laughed at their jokes and teasing, then made my excuses and headed back to the bar to continue my prep work for the next day. It felt good to be home. The people here were just different than city people. More relaxed, more friendly. It was nice to be where I had a history and with people who not only knew me but had known my parents, too.

I was singing along softly to the music playing over the sound system when the door opened. I glanced up, then promptly dropped the empty mug I’d been holding.

Kade had walked into the bar.

I stared at him in openmouthed shock, whereas he looked wholly unsurprised to see me.

He wore a black button-down shirt and black jeans. The shirt was untucked, which I knew meant his gun was lodged in his jeans at the small of his back. His hair was exactly as I remembered, inky black and slightly tousled, the strands long and brushing his forehead. The blue of his eyes pierced me despite the distance between us, and it was like someone had shoved their fist into my gut.

I realized then that the bar had gone quiet, the only sound that of the music playing, as the customers who remained turned to get a look at the newcomer who was very obviously not from around here.

He’d changed, in just the month since I’d last seen him. Not physically, but in his demeanor. The planes of his face were as smooth and unreadable as granite, his eyes as hard and cold as I’d ever seen them. He radiated menace and danger, his palpable presence seeming to proclaim “Don’t fuck with me.” And only a fool would.

Kade finally broke our staring contest, his gaze taking a quick catalog of the bar and people, then he headed toward me. Conversation resumed and the moment was over.

Jerking myself out of my shock-induced stupor, I dropped down to pick up the mug with shaking hands. It hadn’t shattered, thank goodness. The thick rubber pads I stood on behind the bar had cushioned the fall. I stood again, putting the mug with the other dirty dishes that Danny would pick up shortly and take back to load in the washer.

I ignored Kade as he rounded the bar, sliding onto a stool that faced the door and let him keep his back to the wall.

My pulse was racing and I broke out in a cold sweat. I was nearing panic as I struggled to figure out what I was supposed to do. He’d left me, left us, without even a goodbye. Why was he back? To torment me? I didn’t know, couldn’t understand it. What I did know was that I didn’t have it in me to watch him leave again. If I let him in even an inch, allowed my feelings to break free from the cage in which I’d imprisoned them, this time when he left, I would shatter permanently.

“You just going to ignore me?” Kade asked, his tone dry.

I cleared my throat and answered without looking at him. “Pretty much.”

Two older men were also sitting at the bar, nursing the last of their beers, and I noticed they were unabashedly watching the exchange between Kade and me.

“Last call,” I said to them, forcing my lips to curve into something resembling a smile. I walked out from behind the bar to let the two remaining tables know, too, that it was last call. Usually, I’d just holler it out from the bar, but I felt a pressing need to put some space between me and Kade.

When I returned, Kade hadn’t moved.

“Aren’t you going to ask me if I’d like a drink?” he asked.

“We’re closing,” I replied curtly, grabbing the rack of dirty dishes myself to haul to the back. Maybe I could hide back there for a few minutes and Kade would leave. But just as I turned, Danny was there beside me.

“Don’t be trying to lift that yourself, Kathleen,” he chided me. “I bet it weighs more than you do.” He chortled, his smile blinding as he teased me.

“Thanks,” I said, letting him take the heavy rack. He started humming a tune as he walked away, and let loose with a full-throated verse and chorus by the time he reached the swinging door into the kitchen. Danny had a great voice, and on any other night, I’d have encouraged him to sing a little for me. But not tonight.

“You can ignore me all you want—it won’t make a fucking bit of difference.”

Kade’s words ricocheted through my head, sending me into a new state of apprehension and panic.

It seemed the guys at the bar took exception to Kade, because one of them piped up, “I don’t know where you’re from, Mister,” he said gruffly, “but round here we watch our mouths in front of a lady.”

I looked up now, suddenly hyperaware of what was happening. Kade didn’t take kindly to people telling him what to do, and tonight was no exception.

Catching his gaze, I saw an eyebrow lift in sardonic amusement. “A lady, is it?” he sneered. “My mistake.” The look in his eyes made me shiver, and not in a good way. “Do excuse me,” he said. The words were a humble gesture, but the way in which he said them was not.

It seemed the man who’d spoken to Kade thought the same way I did, because I saw his jaw harden and he pushed his stool back from the bar. I hurried over before he could get up, forcing my lips into a smile.

“It’s okay,” I said, trying to forestall him. “Really. It’s not a problem. Did you need to settle up your tab?”

The man, I thought his name was Wade, seemed reluctant to let it go, but I guess he also didn’t want to make trouble for me, because he gave a curt nod and tossed some money down on the counter.

“I’ll just get you some change,” I said, but he shook his head.

“Keep it.” He gave me a fatherly smile and a pat on the arm from his work-roughened hand. “You be careful gettin’ home tonight, you hear?” He gave Kade a hard glare.

“I will, thanks,” I said, slipping the change from his tab into my pocket. He left and his friend finished off his beer and left, too.

Carol brought over the tabs for the remaining two tables and I ran them through the register. The one table left and two of the guys from the other as well, but Matt and his buddy Steve remained. I noticed them talking quietly to each other and casting glances at Kade, then me.

I could see where this was going. Shit.

I hurried behind the bar as Carol brought back a tray of empty glasses from the two tables. She, too, eyed Kade sitting behind me.

“What’s with him?” she asked in an undertone. “He looks like bad news. Really bad news. Want me to go call Roger?” Roger was a deputy on the town’s small police force. He ate lunch here all the time and I’d noticed had taken more than a passing interest in Carol. It didn’t surprise me that she would have his number.

“It’s okay,” I said, though I wondered if I believed that myself. “I . . . know him.”

Her eyes widened to the size of proverbial saucers. “You know him?”

I nodded. “He can be a bit of an asshole,” I said, which was a massive understatement. “I’ll get rid of him. It’s fine.”

She looked skeptical but nodded. “Okay. If you’re sure. I’m going to head home, okay? My prep’s done for the night and my feet are killing me.”

I could certainly relate to that. I’d pulled a nine-hour shift with two half-hour breaks and the dogs were barkin’.

“Yeah, no problem. See you tomorrow.”

I turned around as she left and wanted to groan with dismay. While I’d been busy talking to Carol, Matt and Steve had approached Kade, each taking a stool on either side of him.

“It’s closing time, buddy,” Matt said to Kade. “Way past time for you to go.”

He could have been a breeze blowing for as much attention Kade paid to him. Instead, his eyes were locked to mine.

Matt and Steve exchanged glances and silent communication.

“We don’t want any trouble,” Steve added. “Come on outside with us and leave the girl alone.”

Kade rested an elbow on the counter and crooked his finger, beckoning me.

I swallowed, taking hesitant steps forward until I stood directly in front of him. He crooked his finger again and I leaned toward him, my ponytail swinging forward over my shoulder.

Kade caught my hair between his fingers, tugging lightly until my stomach was pressed against the curve at the edge of the bar. Then I felt his lips near my ear, his fingers trailing down my jaw in the lightest of touches, though it felt like an electric current. A shiver danced down my spine. Then he whispered to me.

“I’ve killed ten men over the last few weeks. Do you want me to make it an even dozen?”

The warmth of his breath against my skin was in stark contrast to the ice that froze my veins as the meaning of his words sank in. In stunned horror, I jerked backward, my shocked gaze again meeting his. The corner of his lips lifted in a chilling smirk.

“Matt, Steve,” I said, my voice sounding strangled, “it’s okay. Come on, I’ll walk you out.”

Matt looked at me like I’d lost my mind.

“No way, Kathleen,” he said with a disgusted snort. “We’ll stick around until you’re done.”

“You’ve been busy,” Kade said conspiratorially to me.

My jaw fell open in shock at his insinuation.

Kade turned to Matt. “Let me guess, the quarterback? Captain of the football team?”

My cheeks burned because, yes, that had been Matt exactly in high school, right down to captain of the Rushville High School Lions football team. Which was, coincidentally, one of the reasons he’d never noticed me. Girls had trailed after him like they were kitties and he was catnip. Why he wasn’t married yet, I had no idea. I hadn’t asked and he hadn’t said.

“What’s it to you?” Matt retorted.

Kade shot me a sideways look. “Knew it,” he said in an aside.

“Matt, really, you and Steve should just go,” I pleaded. I still had prep work to do, but I’d forgo it and pay the consequences tomorrow if I could just get Steve and Matt to leave. I pushed back from the bar, intending to round it and physically walk them outside, when Matt grabbed my arm, pulling me to a halt.

“What’s going on?” Matt asked, his brows creasing in confusion.

But I was no longer looking at Matt. I was looking at Kade, whose gaze was fixed on Matt’s hand wrapped around my wrist. Kade’s body tensed and a dangerous light came into his eyes. Alarm shot through me. I jerked my arm out of Matt’s grip and hurried out from behind the bar.

“Please, just do what I say,” I said, taking Matt by the hand. “It’s okay. I know him and it’ll be fine.”

Matt let me tug him to his feet and Steve reluctantly followed. I led them out the door and into the parking lot.

“You know that guy?” Matt asked, his disbelief evident.

I nodded. “Yeah. I used to . . . work for him.” What else was I supposed to say? How to explain? I was engaged to his brother, but then I fell in love with him, then I got pregnant and told him I loved him. Then he left me. Yeah, not even I wanted to try and make sense of that pathetic story.

“What’s he doing here?”

Good question.

“I don’t know,” I said, “but I’m sure it’s nothing. He can just be a jerk, that’s all. I’ll be fine.”

“Are you positive?” Matt asked. “Because I don’t mind waiting. I’ll follow you home, make sure everything’s all right.”

“I’m sure. It’ll be all right. I promise.” I smiled. “But thanks so much for wanting to stay and help.” Because it was nice of him. Matt was a nice guy, a good guy, and I didn’t take that for granted. Impulsively, I gave him a hug. He was hard and solid in my arms, hugging me back in the slightly awkward way of a big guy who was aware of his size and didn’t want to unthinkingly crush something much smaller than him.

I stepped back and Matt considered for a moment, studying me, then gave a reluctant nod. “Okay. If you say it’s all right, then I guess it is.”

“It is,” I reiterated.

Steve waved at me and I thanked him, too, watching as they got in their separate trucks and left.

I pondered just walking to my car and driving home, but that would only be delaying the inevitable. Best to see what Kade wanted and send him on his way. Then at least I’d get a decent night’s sleep.

Fat chance of that happening, I thought with a sigh, heading back inside.

Kade had moved to the windows of the pub, startling me as I opened the door to go back inside.

“Were you watching me?” I asked sharply, my eyes narrowing.

“No,” he said flatly. “I was watching the quarterback.”

Before I could retort, the music suddenly got louder.

“What the hell is that?” Kade asked over the strains of Florence and the Machine.

I sighed. “Danny likes to turn up the music after closing and sing while he cleans the kitchen.”

Kade’s eyebrows flew up. “He sings this?”

I laughed unexpectedly at the look on Kade’s face. “No. He likes me to sing, too.” It had become our little ritual, Danny and me. Once he’d heard me singing to myself, he decided that belting tunes out after closing was a great way to “clean out the old pipes,” as he put it. Once everyone was gone, he’d put on different music and turn it up. It was fun and helped pass the time while I finished my work. Sometimes he came out and we’d sing something together before we locked up.

Kade didn’t say anything to that, his eyes searching mine. I liked the song playing, had once listened to it all the time, but now it made me think of Kade, which just tore me to pieces.

I sighed, exhaustion overtaking me. It had been a long day.

“Why are you here?” I asked, passing a hand tiredly across my eyes. “What do you want?”

He didn’t answer immediately, and when I finally glanced up, he was frowning, his brows drawn sharply together.

“I could ask you the same thing,” he said. “Why are you here? You’re supposed to be with Blane.”

If he’d said he wanted me to dye my hair purple and dance the hula, I couldn’t have been more surprised. My mouth hung open until I finally closed it with a snap.

“I’m what?” I hissed, feeling the anger rising inside me. Had I heard him correctly?

“You’re supposed to be with Blane,” he repeated.

“I’m supposed to be with Blane? Are you kidding me?” I was fuming now. Deciding I’d better do something else before I flew at Kade in a rage, I spun on my heel and started stacking chairs on tables. The morning crew did the sweeping, so the night crew just had to get things ready.

“No, I’m not kidding you,” he retorted. “Blane—”

I whirled, cutting him off. “If you say that again, so help me God, I’m going to throw this chair at your head.”

The idea that I might actually hurt Kade was laughable, but he shut up, his lips pressing into a thin line as his eyes narrowed.

I turned away and resumed my task. After a moment, I saw Kade in my peripheral vision, copying my movements and stacking chairs on tables. Sooner than it would have taken me to do alone, it was done.

The lights went out, leaving just the ones by the bar lit. I figured Danny must be about done in the kitchen. Sure enough, I’d just gone to get my purse from under the bar when he poked his head out.

“I’m finished back here!” he called. “See you tomorrow.”

“Bye, Danny!” I hollered back. He went out the back way and locked up, while I took care of the front. Kade followed in silence.

I walked stiffly to my car, drawing from my energy reserves, which were dangerously low. Gravel crunched under our feet, ratcheting up the tension lodged between my shoulder blades. When I got to my car, I took a deep breath before I turned around to face him.

“Listen, Kade,” I said, “you made it damn clear that you want nothing to do with me, or the baby. So you should just leave. You’re pretty good at that.” And if my voice held more than a trace of bitterness, I thought it was my due.

Kade’s face was stark in the harsh light of the streetlamp in the lot. If I hadn’t known him and had happened to bump into him like this, I’d have turned and run in the opposite direction. The hard edge to him that had been so prominent when we’d first met was back with a vengeance, a malevolence that made a chill creep down my spine.

He took a step closer, but I stood my ground. I’d never let Kade intimidate me into backing down before, and I sure as hell wasn’t about to do it now. He was so close, I could feel the heat from his body, though we didn’t touch.

“I’m here to do something else I’m pretty good at,” he said roughly, the deep blue of his eyes seeming unfathomable.

I swallowed. Hard. I wasn’t proud of the images that flashed through my mind then or the way my body was exulting in how close he was. The slight breeze stirred, sending a waft of his scent my way. A shaft of pain flashed through me even as a shiver of arousal whispered across my skin. I bit my lip against the moan that wanted to crawl from my throat.

“And what’s that?” I managed to ask, my voice mortifyingly breathless.

“Keeping you alive.”