Obsession (The Plus One Chronicles) (3 page)

Kat stood, her mouth compressing as she tested her right leg. She lifted her gaze to his.

He clenched his fists to keep from dragging her into his arms. Every cell in his body screamed to feel her against him.

Her stunning blue-green eyes brewed profound sadness. “You’re no different. You’re shoving me aside too.”

Christ. Sloane struggled to resist the fiery urge to go after her. “Kat.” Her name was torn from him.

She stopped but didn’t turn. Her straight back and tense shoulders told him she was waiting for another verbal blow.

“I care enough to make damn sure Lee Foster never lays a hand on you.” He couldn’t let her go without her knowing that. He loved her. Hated himself, yeah, but he loved her with every breath he had.

She stayed still for agonizing heartbeats, only her fingers twitching.

They both knew his caring changed nothing.

He was violent, able and willing to kill.

Kat was a beautiful survivor who had retained a tender heart. She couldn’t live with a man who killed.

He couldn’t live with himself if he let Foster keep breathing.

They were done.

Finally she walked out.

Sloane had nothing left except to do what he’d spent the last decade training for.

Revenge and making sure the woman he loved stayed safe.

Chapter Two

Kat slid the tray of zucchini muffins into the bakery case and turned.

Ana held up a mug of steaming coffee. “Take a break, Kat.”

“I’m fine, but thanks.” She needed to keep moving. It had been a busy Friday morning that hadn’t given her time to dwell on her shattered love life.

Go home.

Her stomach twisted at Sloane’s words from last night. He hadn’t wanted to try to find a compromise or a way to keep what they had. Instead, he’d wanted her gone.

Oh suck it up.
She’d survive. Eventually she’d get to the point of breathing without agony. But what she couldn’t bear was what he was going to do. He wasn’t a killer. Kat needed to think of a way to convince Sloane of that. He didn’t want her, fine, they were adults and could put that aside. But she wasn’t abandoning Sloane as a friend.

“Right. You’re doing so great you’re staring at the wall with the cup halfway to your mouth.”

Kat pulled herself together and faced her employee. “Sorry, just thinking.”

Ana put a hand on Kat’s shoulder. “Do you want to talk about it? Or should I have some chocolate chip cookies made with ex-lax delivered to the asshole?”

Kat attempted to force her lips into a smile. She hadn’t told Ana anything, but the girl had guessed she and Sloane had ended things between them. “We’re out of ex-lax.” Sipping her coffee, she scanned the shop. There were a few customers relaxing, and Whitney, her bodyguard.

“New subject.” Ana poured some hot water over a tea bag for herself. “I saw a rough cut of the two videos this morning. That picture you sent is powerful, plus Kellen sent me a couple of you during your recovery. Kat, prepare yourself, you’re going to be a star. Both the trailer and the bio piece rock so hard, I’m surprised the computer screen didn’t crack.”

“Already? I just sent you the picture yesterday.” While waiting for Sloane to show up in her shop.

“All we had to do was drop the picture in, so yeah, already. We’re going to finish editing it over the weekend.” Ana set her tea down and put her hand on Kat’s arm. “It’s really good, rather amazing. You came across so authentic and real. People will connect with you, and that means they’ll connect with Sugar Dancer.”

The glow on Ana’s face was impossible to resist. Despite her sadness and fatigue, a spark of excitement ignited in Kat.

“You’re going to let me submit the videos to the baking shows. You’ll see.”

She opened her mouth to remind Ana about her panic attacks when the bell on the door jangled the arrival of a new customer. Kellen strolled in holding a big pizza box. “Hey, girls. I brought lunch. Pepperoni and olive.”

“You got my favorite?” Usually Kat had to win a bet to get her way on pizza with Kel.

“Yep.” He headed into the kitchen, dropping the box on the stainless-steel worktable.

Kat’s stomach growled, reminding her she hadn’t eaten last night or today. “Were they all out of ham and pineapple?”

Kellen stopped next to her, carrying some paper plates. “Wrong question, Kit Kat.”

“What’s the right one?”

He put his arm around her shoulder. “Do I need to quit my new job? Because I’m not working for a man who treated you badly. I can find another job.”

Her throat tightened. He’d confirmed her suspicion that he’d come to check up on her. God, she loved Kellen. “No, absolutely not.”

His eyes narrowed. “I’m not sure I believe you. Diego and I talked about it this morning. I don’t know what happened, but you were upset after Sloane’s mother came in here. I should have listened in, damn it. The one time I don’t snoop, something bad happens.”

She hugged him. Much as she hated what Sloane thought he had to do, Kat wouldn’t betray him by telling Kel what Olivia had said. Plus, she still hoped to stop Sloane somehow. But right now, she needed to reassure her friend. “None of this has anything to do with you or your job. Don’t quit. I mean it. You have a chance of a lifetime with SLAM Inc.” For a brief second, Kat wondered if Sloane would have John fire Kellen to cut all ties. But she knew better than that. Sloane didn’t operate that way. Pulling herself together, she took the plates from his hand. “It was only temporary, and now we’re done.”

Putting a slice of pizza on her plate, Kel said, “What happened between you and Sloane?”

Sinking onto a barstool, she glanced toward the bakery floor, but Ana was busy helping a customer. “I got in the way of one of his goals. Now I’m out of the way.” The pizza had smelled so good, but now her stomach closed up.

Kellen grabbed her hand. “That’s bullshit. I’ve seen the way Sloane looks at you, and it’s not as an obstacle. The question is, are you lying to me or yourself?”

She picked an olive off her slice. “It hurt, okay? He told me to leave.” Tears burned in her eyes, and she blinked them away. “I’m damn tired of being shoved aside.”

“Then stop being a doormat. Be that woman who came and got me at the hospital the last time Brian beat me stupid. Remember her?”

Startled, Kat looked up. “What was so kickass about her?”

“I didn’t want you to take me to my parents’ house. I was so ashamed and didn’t want them to know. But you told me tough shit, you were taking me home where I’d be safe and with people who loved me.”

“I was right.” Kel had been so scared his parents would somehow think less of him for letting himself get beaten. Instead, they’d helped Kel get a restraining order on his abusive ex and supported him emotionally. They’d also hugged Kat a million times for bringing him home. “But that was different. I worked four days a week right here with your parents. I knew how much they loved you. You’re their world.”

“You stood up to me when I needed you too. Maybe Sloane needs you to stand up to him.”

Exactly what she’d been thinking, but her fear of rejection kept getting in the way of doing anything about it. Was that what she wanted to do—go back to being the passive woman hiding in her bakery to avoid emotional pain?

Absolutely not. She’d rather fight for what she and Sloane had together, and risk the pain of rejection than to give up without trying. Nervous energy hummed in her muscles as an idea took shape. “I was supposed to go hang out with Drake tonight. His nurses, Jane and Zack, rotate days but go home at night. Sloane often works out at night, so Sherry, John and I take turns. I’ll call Drake and see if he’s okay with that.”

“Good, cuz that doormat look is so last year. But keep the streaks, those are hot.”

Kat grinned for the first time since Olivia had walked into her shop. Sloane loved the lavender streaks in her hair.

But did he love Kat as much as she hoped he did?

* * *

The numbers on her laptop blurred. Kat blinked, rubbing her eyes and rolling her head to stretch her neck muscles. Doing bookkeeping for Sugar Dancer wasn’t her favorite thing. Setting the computer aside, she got up and glanced at Drake. “I’m getting some water, want anything?”

“Two fingers of scotch?”

“Water it is.” She headed into Sloane’s kitchen, snagged two bottles then returned and perched on the arm of the recliner. “Drink up.”

He took a sip, then set it down. “You look tired. Did you sleep at all last night?”

Fatigue made her skin feel too heavy. But that was nothing compared to what Drake endured. “I got a few hours.”

“He’s a dumbass. Told him so too.”

Her stomach clenched. “He doesn’t want me here.” So what was she doing? It was after nine, and Sloane would probably be home soon. She didn’t have to be here now. Ethan could come up from the guesthouse and stay with Drake. But Kat liked hanging out with Drake, even if they just watched a movie while Kat caught up on her bookkeeping.

“He wants you.” Drake laid his hand on her leg. “Don’t you dare let him scare you away.”

Anxiety gnawed at her. Sloane was smart and accomplished. How could he risk everything he’d built for revenge? “He’s not a killer. Why can’t he see that?”

“My fault.” Drake’s hand slid from her leg, and he dropped his head back. “The night of Sara’s murder, after all the questioning by the police, the boy was vibrating with ugly rage and guilt. I dragged him into the gym and made him vent that fury.” Drake closed his eyes as if trying to escape the memory.

Kat snagged his hand, holding it tight in hers. “You don’t have to talk about this. It’s not your fault.” How could it be? That didn’t make sense.

When he lifted his eyelids, shadows of regret turned the blue to a smoky color. “He was a kid in a man’s body with the ability to do something he’d regret forever.” Drake’s voice thickened. “I was trying to save him from doing something stupid like killing Foster before the trial, or finding a way to kill him once he was in prison.” His fingers twitched in her hand. “Instead, I think I destroyed him.”

“No.” She leaned closer, needing him to hear her. “You didn’t. You saved him and he loves you.” So much so Sloane had taken Drake into his home and cared for him even though it hurt Sloane to watch Drake wither away.

Drake sighed. “Once Sloane was exhausted and slumped on that mat, I got in his face and told him if he was going to get his revenge, then do it right. Get smart and train. I was trying to give him a reason to live, to focus and stay out of trouble.”

Kat felt that right in the pit of her stomach. He’d been trying to direct all that raw talent, rage and sheer power in a wildly angry and hurting sixteen-year-old boy. One who had no father and a horrible mother. Talk about a recipe for disaster. “He’d probably be in prison now without you.” Or dead.

He turned his hand, latching on to hers. For a second, an echo of his former strength fueled his grip. “I’m leaving him, Kat. I don’t want to. I love that boy, he’s everything to me. But I’m leaving him. He needs you. I taught him to fight and survive, but you’re teaching him how to love.”

“Oh, Drake.” A knot of emotion thickened her voice. Was she crying? She didn’t care. She hugged Drake to her. “You don’t get it, you taught him to love. You taught him how to be strong and fierce, yet he’s gentle with me. Loving.” She thought of all the times she’d laughed with Sloane or come apart in his arms. Sloane had given Kat the safety she’d needed to begin growing, healing and letting herself feel again. And God, she was feeling now. “You shaped his heart from a dangerous boy into a worthy man.” How could he not know that?

Drake curled his thin arm around her. “He’s yours now. Take care of him.”

This wasn’t fair. “We can’t lose you.” The words came out a whisper.

Drake looked up at her. “Listen to me. Sloane refused to believe my diagnosis from the start. He brought in specialists from around the world until I finally told him it was over. He’s just now facing it. He needs to accept it, and so do you.”

She recalled the dry agony in Sloane’s eyes when he’d told her that Drake had saved him and others like him but there wasn’t a goddamned thing Sloane could do now to save Drake. She hated it, but Drake was right. They needed to deal with the truth. Pulling in a breath, she wiped her eyes. “Aren’t you angry?” Because she was. She’d been angry when she’d lost her grandmother to cancer, and she was angry now.