Point of No Return

CHAPTER THREE

Bad dreams plagued me that night, with images of Kade lying on the ground and blood everywhere. It coated my hands and my clothes as I tried over and over to wake him. His sightless blue eyes stared at nothing as I screamed and screamed . . .

I came awake with a start, the tang of blood still in my nostrils, and launched myself to the bathroom. The seafood from the night before combined with a gut-wrenching nightmare apparently didn’t agree with me. So much for having a nice dinner, I thought, wiping my mouth before stepping into the shower.

When I got out and went into the kitchen to pour a cup of coffee, still wrapped in a towel, I saw I had a missed phone call on my cell.

Blane.

I dropped the phone back onto the counter as though it burned, turning away to pour my coffee. I couldn’t see Blane, not after last night. I had hardly been able to look myself in the mirror this morning, much less face him knowing I’d gone straight from his arms to Kade’s.

I pulled on a pair of shorts and a tank top and decided I’d tackle cleaning my apartment. I didn’t have to go to work until four, so I had some time. It kept my mind off things, cleaning and scrubbing. The last thing I wanted to do was think. If I started thinking, then I’d have to come to terms with not only what I’d done last night—with Blane and Kade—but I’d have to face making the decision I didn’t want to make.

It was when I was scrubbing out the kitchen sink that I felt water touch my bare toes. Jumping back, I saw the reason for it all too clearly.

“Oh no,” I moaned, hurriedly shedding my rubber gloves and turning off the water. But it didn’t matter. The water kept oozing from the cupboard under the sink. I hurriedly pulled it open, watching in dismay as water sprayed from the pipes, coating everything. Another gush of water came out and soaked the floor. Now I was standing in water.

“Shit-shit-shit!” I ran to get towels from the bathroom, layering them on the floor and crouching on my hands and knees to get under the sink to turn off the water valve. The damn pipe sprayed water all over my face, hair, and chest until I was soaked. The stupid valve was stuck and refused to turn. I hauled everything out from under the sink and climbed in farther, using both hands now to try and turn the valve.

“Goddammit!” I yelled in frustration, backing out from under the sink. I raised my head too soon, though, and smacked it on the counter. I yelped in pain, tears springing to my eyes.

It was the last straw and I fell back on my butt in the middle of the watery floor and started bawling, my face buried on my wet knees. Not the most logical response, but the most I was emotionally capable of at the moment.

The noise of my front door opening had me lifting my head.

Blane had let himself in, his eyes wide with surprise as he took in the water spewing from under the sink and me, sitting in the middle of the floor, crying and looking like a drowned rat.

He seemed to collect himself pretty quickly, though, and grasped what was happening. Hurrying in, he said with a soft smile, “Plumbing problems?”

I sniffed and nodded, a hiccup escaping.

Discarding his jacket and tossing it onto a chair, he walked over to the sink.

“No! Wait! Blane, you’ll ruin your suit!” But it was too late or he didn’t care. Leaning under the sink, he turned the valve, shutting the water off in seconds.

“There,” he said, standing back up. “That’s better.”

I swiped a hand across my cheeks, but it was pointless trying to wipe away tears. I was soaked. My hair hung in a wet ponytail and my clothes were so sodden, they were dripping.

Blane looked down at me, the corners of his lips tipped up slightly. He held out a hand, which I took.

“You all right?” he asked as he helped me to my feet.

“It’s okay to laugh,” I grumbled. “I know I look ridiculous.”

Blane chuckled. “I didn’t say that. Why don’t you get cleaned up and I’ll see what I can do about your problem?”

That sounded like a good idea and I hurried into the bedroom, anxious to get dry. I toweled my hair before changing my clothes, then headed back to the kitchen. Blane was finishing mopping the floor.

“Well, this is a sight I never thought I’d see.” I couldn’t help but tease him.

He looked up and grimaced. “I can think of only one person I’d mop a floor for, and I’m doing it now.”

He said it jokingly, but my smile grew strained.

“I’ll just call the super and tell him to come by and fix it, now that you’ve got the water turned off,” I said, heading for the phone. A few minutes later, I’d reported the leak and the super said someone from maintenance would be over later.

Blane helped me take the waterlogged towels down to the washing machine, then followed me back upstairs.

“So, um, what did you need?” I asked, taking a seat on the couch. Realizing that didn’t sound very gracious after he’d just stopped my leak, I added, “Not that I’m not grateful you’re here.”

“You didn’t answer your phone this morning,” Blane said, sitting down next to me and resting an arm on the back of the couch. “I thought I’d come by, see if you wanted to go to lunch.” His hand dropped, the backs of his knuckles brushing the bare skin of my arm.

“I’m not dressed very nice,” I said, wondering if lunch was a good idea. My skin tingled where he’d touched me and I thought I should move away, but I didn’t.

Blane shrugged. “It’s just lunch.”

My conscience was screaming at me to tell him no, that I had to end things with both him and Kade, but I couldn’t obey.

“Um, okay. Just give me a minute.” I got up and headed back to my bedroom to brush out my hair. I avoided my eyes in the mirror. I could have lunch with Blane. There was nothing wrong with that.

A flash of Kade in my mind, his fingers inside me, his mouth on mine.

The brush clattered as it hit the dresser, dropping from my hands as I clutched the sides of my head, squeezing my eyes shut.

I was lying to myself, and I knew it.

“It doesn’t matter,” I muttered. “Your time is ticking away. Enjoy it while you can.” I just wanted to spend a little time with Blane, enjoy being with him, his company. It seemed like the time we’d had together had been fraught with danger and drama. Now that it seemed things had finally settled down, I was loath to put an end to our relationship. No matter the many reasons why I should.

Putting on some sandals, I went back to the living room where Blane was waiting. He got to his feet, not seeming to mind that I was in a pair of white shorts and a black T-shirt.

“I’ll drive,” he said.

I followed him out the door, locking it behind me. I jogged down the steps after him, then stopped short in surprise.

“Oh my God! You got a new car!”

Blane had slid his sunglasses on and he grinned at me. “What do you think?”

It was another Jaguar, but brand-spanking-new and just . . . wow. Silver metallic, it was a four-door, sleek, and gorgeous.

“It’s amazing!” I enthused.

“Wanna drive it?”

My jaw dropped and I stared at him. “Are you kidding me?”

Blane tossed me the keys. “Let’s take her for a spin.”

I squealed with delight, hurrying to the driver’s side as Blane slid into the passenger seat. He tossed his jacket in the back and I noticed the Glock wedged firmly in its holster at his side.

The engine turned over with a purr and I adjusted the seat for my considerably shorter legs. I took a deep breath, glancing at Blane. He was smiling and so was I. I looked up and was shocked again. The entire roof was made of tinted glass.

“Wow . . .” I breathed.

“Let’s go,” Blane urged.

I tore my gaze away from the roof and carefully backed the car up. I was almost too nervous to drive. Almost. With a gleeful laugh, we tore out of the lot.

Blane told me where to drive and I barely paid attention where we were heading, being too wrapped up in how amazing an experience it was to drive a car like this.

We were soon on an open country road, and Blane said, “Open her up.”

I glanced over. “I can’t do that! What if I get a ticket?”

Blane lowered his glasses, peering at me over the tops. His grin was wicked. “I know a great lawyer.”

I laughed and gave in to the urge to go just a little faster. Okay, maybe a little more—it was just so easy and the car seemed to grip the road as it ate up the miles.

Finally, Blane directed me onto an exit and had me pull into what looked to be a park. It was nice, with huge shade trees and manicured grass. Since it was the middle of the week, no one was there at this time of day.

“I don’t know what kind of hoity-toity restaurants they have in this itty-bitty town,” I teased. “You may have to settle for a fast food cheeseburger for lunch.”

Blane got out and so did I. “No, I won’t,” he said, popping open the trunk. “Surprise.”

Curious, I stepped toward the trunk to see what was inside. Oh God.

There was a picnic basket and a blanket.

“I thought we could have a picnic,” Blane said.

I swallowed. The last picnic I’d been on had been with Kade, and we’d—

“Um, yeah, sure,” I said brightly, cutting off that thought.

Blane frowned. “Is that okay? Because if it’s not, we can—”

“No, no, it’s fine,” I interrupted. “A picnic sounds great.” So what if it made me feel like I was cheating on Kade? I wasn’t. He and I weren’t together. I was his go-to booty-call girl and yes, he loved me and I loved him, but you couldn’t build a life together out of a booty-call relationship.

I grabbed the blanket while Blane took out the picnic basket, then followed him into the park. Finding just the perfect spot took a few minutes, and I hid a smile as Blane dismissed certain areas for “not enough shade” or being “too rocky.” Finally, he designated the spot.

“You’re sure?” I teased. “Before we spread the blanket and everything, because if you’re not sure, we can keep looking.”

“Smartass,” he retorted, setting the basket down and taking the blanket from me. A few quick snaps of his hands, and the fabric floated perfectly to the ground.

I slipped off my shoes before settling down, then waited as Blane sat down, too. He looked a bit incongruous, sitting on a blanket under a tree with a shirt and tie on. I watched as he dug into the basket, producing two bottles of water and sandwiches.

“Where’d you get this stuff?” I asked, taking a chicken salad sandwich from him.

“Mona made it,” he said, unearthing more food.

I’d skipped breakfast after the puking incident, so was starving now. Mona’s cooking was good incentive and I ate the sandwich embarrassingly fast. She’d also packed strawberries and I eyed Blane as I ate those more slowly.

“Blane, when was the last time you went on a picnic?” He just didn’t seem like the picnic kind of guy. He’d finished his sandwich, too, and was now resting back on his elbows, his long legs stretched out in front of him, ankles crossed.

His smile was a bit sheepish. “Years, I’m sure. I’ve probably not willingly sat on the ground to eat since I was deployed.”

“So why now?” I asked. “Why today?”

“I thought you’d like it,” he said. “And I wanted to see you.”

I gave an inward sigh and lay down on my back, looking up at the puffy clouds drifting across the sky.

“Is that wrong? Am I not supposed to want to see you?” A defensive note had crept into Blane’s questions.

“Of course not,” I said. “I want to see you, too.” Which was true. If I could just get Kade out of my head, maybe the feelings I had for him would go away and I could feel what I should feel—what I used to feel—for Blane.

It was quiet for a few minutes, each of us seeming lost in our own thoughts. The breeze rustled the leaves on the trees. I could so take a nap right there. My eyes had just drifted closed when Blane spoke.

“I’ve decided to pull out of the governor’s race.”

My eyes shot open and I twisted so I could see him. “What?” Surely I’d misheard.

“I’m dropping out,” Blane repeated, discarding his sunglasses.

“But . . . but why?” I stammered, stunned. “You’ve been working for this for years. Why would you drop out?”

“I told you before that I wasn’t sure I wanted it anymore,” he said. “Kade getting hurt, losing you. It just showed me how badly I’d prioritized the things in my life, people in my life.” He paused. “Plus I want to break from my uncle. He has a lot to answer for.”

I couldn’t disagree. Keaston and his interference had nearly cost both Kade and me our lives.

“So what are you going to do?” I asked.

“In my career or about my uncle?”

“Both.”

“I’ll keep practicing for now. I might run for office again someday, maybe. It’s all well and good to have ambitions and success, it just took me a while to realize that they don’t mean anything if I don’t have someone to share it with.” His eyes were on mine as he said this, and I had to glance away.

“And your uncle?” I asked, not wanting to address the implication in his words.

Blane sat up, bending one leg to hook an elbow over his knee. He stared into the distance. “When I think about what he did, how Kade could’ve died. How I might not have gotten to you in time, nearly didn’t. I want to kill him.” He gave a bark of bitter laughter. “My own uncle. I’ve idolized him since I was a boy. To find out that he betrayed me, hurt me, all for his aspirations for my career . . .” He shook his head as though he still had trouble wrapping his mind around it.

The nearly palpable anger and pain emanating from Blane struck a sympathetic chord in me. I reached over, grasping his hand that rested on the blanket between us. He lifted his head and his eyes were a brilliant green as they searched mine.

“I’m sorry, Kat,” he said. “You tried to tell me, and I didn’t listen. I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for everything that’s happened to you . . . because of me.” His lips twisted in a parody of a smile. “Ironic, isn’t it? I turned out to be the worst thing that ever happened to you.”

“Don’t say that!” I sat up, quickly moving to kneel beside him. “That’s not true,” I said.

Blane shook his head slightly, glancing away, and I knew he didn’t believe me.

I cupped his cheek in my hand, forcing him to look at me. “That’s not true,” I repeated. “I wouldn’t trade the time we had together for anything. If I knew then what I know now, I’d still have gotten in your car that night.” And I meant it.

Blane searched my eyes. He leaned forward and I knew what was coming, but I didn’t pull away. His hand curved behind my neck and his mouth met mine.

It was as sweet and tentative as a first kiss. His lips were soft and coaxing, the gentle brush of his tongue against the seam of my lips a silent request I couldn’t resist. He deepened the kiss, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me into his lap until I was cradled in both arms, my body wedged between his chest and his bent knees.

He didn’t try anything more or attempt to take things further. He just . . . kissed me. Gradually, I relaxed against him, my body pliant and clinging to his.

I lost track of time and when Blane finally lifted his head, I was languid with desire. Our faces were inches apart and Blane just looked at me, his hand cupping my cheek. His eyes were a beautiful, deep green, the gray nearly invisible now.

“I love how your eyes do that,” I murmured.

His lips twitched. “Do what?” His thumb brushed my cheekbone and I could feel the beat of his heart against my ribs.

“One minute, they’re gray like an oncoming storm,” I said. “The next, they’re the vibrant green of spring grass.”

Blane didn’t reply. I didn’t think he much cared about the color of his eyes. He seemed as though he were memorizing my face, his gaze drifting from my brow to my cheek, my nose, my lips and chin. His thumb brushed my lower lip and he leaned down, pressing a tender, chaste kiss to my mouth.

“You should probably get back to work,” I said. I lifted my hand, unable to resist the temptation to push my fingers through his hair. The blond locks always fell perfectly back into place, no matter what I did. It made me smile. That was Blane. Unruffled and in control. Always.

“I don’t want to,” he said, making me smile even wider.

“I doubt your clients would approve,” I teased. “Besides, I have to get ready for work soon anyway.”

Neither of us made any move to get up. Blane wrapped a lock of my hair around his finger, his gaze focusing on it rather than me as he asked, “Have you been back to see Kade?”

I stiffened, immediately wary. “We probably shouldn’t discuss Kade,” I hedged. All the guilt and doubts I’d managed to push to the back of my mind came flooding back. I squirmed, easing out of Blane’s arms and getting to my feet.

“We can’t really not discuss him, either,” Blane said. He stood as well.

“Then yes,” I said, averting my gaze. I slipped my shoes back on and started to pick up the blanket. “I’ve been to see him. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Not really, not if I’m honest,” he replied.

I folded the blanket over my arms, holding it against my chest like a shield as I faced him. “What do you want from me, Blane?”

“Fine, I’ll lay it on the line,” he said, moving closer until he stood right in front of me. “I want you, just you, all to myself. I don’t want you seeing Kade anymore. I want you to want to be with me, and only me.”

I swallowed. “You’re asking me to choose. I can’t do that. Not right now.” The thought of giving Kade up caused a physical pain inside my chest.

Blane cursed, turning to pace away, his hands resting on his hips.

“I’m not asking you to stick around,” I said. “I’ll understand if you don’t want to be friends anymore, see me anymore.” The words sounded selfless, but that was far from how I felt. I’d really enjoyed being with Blane today. I didn’t want to lose him.

Blane gave a curt nod, which I had no idea how to interpret. He picked up the basket and took the blanket from me. I followed him in silence to the car.

The drive back to my apartment was rife with tension. Blane had an iron grip on the steering wheel, sunglasses again covering his eyes. His expression was like granite.

I fidgeted, nerves getting the best of me.

When we pulled into my parking lot, Blane put the car in park, but made no move to turn off the engine. He stared straight ahead.

“Um, thanks for lunch,” I murmured as I fumbled for the door handle. I felt absurdly like I wanted to cry. Absurd because, really, what had I thought would happen? Eventually, my feelings for Kade would drive Blane away, and vice versa. This tension with Blane shouldn’t have been a surprise.

“Wait,” Blane said, his hand shooting out to grip my wrist, catch me just as I was about to exit the car.

I stilled but didn’t turn.

“I’m sorry, Kat,” he said. “I’ve lost you so many times. I’m scared to death that this time, if I lose you, it’ll be forever.”

I looked around at him, his words breaking my heart. “I love you,” I said. “You know that.”

“But are you still in love with me?”

I hesitated before answering. “I don’t know.”

We were busy at The Drop that night, and with Scott gone, I didn’t stop moving until it was nearly closing. I was restocking when Tish bellied up to the bar.

“Hand me a beer, Kathleen?” she asked.

I pulled a bottle from the fridge and popped the top before handing it to her.

“You’re not going to have one?”

I shook my head. “Nah. Not tonight. I’m tired enough as it is.” Beer didn’t sound very appealing, and I wasn’t exaggerating about being tired. It was an effort to put one foot in front of the other, and I couldn’t wait to crawl into bed.

“How’s the love triangle going?” she asked with a wink.

I groaned. “You make it sound like it’s funny, when it’s awful. It really is.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, immediately contrite.

“It’s okay,” I sighed. “I just don’t know what to do. Every day it seems I’m being pushed one step closer to choosing between them, and I don’t want to do that.”

“In all seriousness, Kathleen, that would be the kindest thing to do.”

I glanced over at her, frowning. “What do you mean?”

Tish shrugged. “Well, if it was me and I was in love with a guy who loved me and someone else, I’d want him to pick. It’d just be a waste of my time to try and hold on to a relationship that may never happen.”

She had a point, and yet . . . “I don’t want to lose them.”

Tish reached across the bar and took my hand, giving it a squeeze. “This isn’t you, Kathleen. You’re not selfish. I know you’re not. I think you’re just scared. A lot has happened the past few months. But you’re strong. You’re a good person. You’ll do the right thing, and you’ll be glad you did.”

Her words echoed in my head as I sat silent in the chair in Kade’s room. They must’ve given him more pain medication, because he hadn’t stirred when I’d snuck inside.

I watched him—thinking about him, me, and Blane—until I could hardly hold my head up. Tish was right. I had to be strong, had to make the right choice, even if I was so exhausted and confused right now that I had no clue what that choice should be.

It was closer to morning than midnight when I finally trudged up the stairs to my apartment. The late nights at the hospital were taking a toll. However, when I reached the top of the flight, I got an unwelcome surprise.

“What are you doing here, James?” I asked, backing away from where he stood leaning against my door. My hand scrabbled inside my purse for my gun.

James looked at me, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I hear you and Kirk are over,” he said. “Again.”

I swallowed. “What does it matter?”

“You’re too good for him,” James said. “I think that’s why I hated seeing you with him.”

“You need to leave,” I said, wishing my voice weren’t shaking. James scared me, our every encounter marked by pain.

James ignored me, taking a few steps in my direction. I hurriedly backed up while pulling my gun from my purse.

“Don’t come any closer,” I warned him.

He paused at the sight of the gun in my hand.

“Maybe if Kandi’d had a gun that night, she wouldn’t be dead,” he mused. “She means . . . meant . . . something to me.” He gave a sudden, bitter laugh. “And we both hated you. Our common bond.”

“Go home, James,” I said. “It’s late.”

“Kirk deserved to die for what he did to her,” James said. “But you were there, weren’t you. Protecting him.” His eyes fixed on mine and he moved closer. Alarmed, I retreated until my back was to the wall.

“You’re like a guardian angel for him and Dennon,” he continued. “That’s where you were tonight, right? With Dennon?”

He was close enough now that the gun was nearly touching his chest.

“That’s none of your business,” I said, fear crawling up my spine as I fought panic. “I don’t want to hurt you. Just go.”

He reached out and I flinched as his fingers gently grazed the side of my face and cheek.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he murmured. “Can’t stop trying to figure you out—figure us out.”

“There is no us, James!” I was frantic to get through to him. I didn’t think I could pull the trigger, no matter how afraid I was.

“Fate brought us together, keeps bringing us together,” he insisted. “If you think I’m wrong, then shoot me.”

My hand tightened on the gun’s grip, the weapon trembling slightly. James looked completely unafraid, his gaze weirdly serene as he stared at me. After a moment, he spoke again.

“You can’t do it,” he said softly. “You can’t kill me, because that’s not who you are. You’re not a killer, like Kirk and Dennon. You’re an angel.”

Before I could say anything to that, he leaned forward and kissed me, a quick hard press of his lips against mine, then he was gone, heading down the stairs. A moment later, I heard a car start and pull out of the lot.

I was shaking like a leaf in the wind and could barely put my gun back into my purse. It took way too long to unlock my door and when I was finally inside, I hurriedly relocked it, then leaned against it and just breathed. As if I didn’t have enough on my mind, James’s unexpected reappearance in my life felt like the last straw for my tenuous composure. A hysterical laugh bubbled up in my throat but I swallowed it down.

Stripping to my underwear, I was too tired to do more than pull on a white tank, leaving my work uniform where it lay on the floor. I fell into bed and slept like the dead.