Out of Turn (17 page)

I was grateful for the low light and kept my face averted as Kade finished freeing my legs.

“Let’s go,” he said.

But as I stood, my knees buckled immediately from having sat for so long. Kade quickly caught me around the waist, keeping me from falling. I turned my face away, but he was too quick. Catching my chin in his hand, he forced me to look at him.

Kade went very still when our eyes met. I didn’t move, barely breathing, afraid of what he’d do. His gaze moved slowly from my swollen eye to my cheek.

“Go wait for me in the hall,” he finally said, helping me to the door. His voice was quiet and calm, which was utterly terrifying.

“No, Kade, don’t,” I whispered. “Let’s just go.”

His fingers barely brushed my damaged face. “Do as I say,” he said, and this time his tone was such that I knew better than to argue.

I walked out of the room and Kade closed the door behind me. The hallway was empty and I stood there, straining to listen, praying Kade wouldn’t kill him.

A crash came from inside the office and my nails bit into my palms. I heard grunts and thuds, glass splintering, a man’s scream. Was Kade all right? What if David got the upper hand? Should I do something? But Kade had said to wait here.

I was nearly hyperventilating when Kade finally emerged. I threw myself at him, relieved to find him unscathed. I wrapped my arms around his neck and his circled my waist.

“It’s okay,” he said softly in my ear. “You’re safe now.”

I drew back to look him in the eyes. “I was never worried that I wouldn’t be.”

Kade frowned a little at that, his thumb brushing my cheek, but I took his hand and stepped back. “Can we go now?”

He nodded wordlessly and moments later we were heading toward the front doors of the building. A black man, bigger than the other men I’d seen, stood nearby, holding a
lethal-looking rifle. I froze in my tracks, my grip tightening on Kade’s hand.

“It’s okay,” he said. “I know him.”

I was still fearful and Kade seemed to sense that, pulling me closer as we neared the man.

“Thanks, Badger,” Kade said, clasping hands with the guy. “Appreciate your help.”

“Anytime,” Badger said. “Did you leave the little fucker alive or is there a mess to clean up?” Badger had the same British accent as David.

“He’s alive, but there’s a mess,” Kade replied.

“Did he shite himself?”

They both laughed at that, hardy-har-har, but I really wanted to leave. I pressed Kade’s hand in a silent message.

“Gotta go, my man. Thanks again,” Kade said, taking the hint and clapping Badger on the shoulder one last time. He helped me out the door and into his rented Mercedes. I relaxed against the seat with a sigh.

Kade took my hand again once he’d started the car, and he didn’t let go until we were back at our hotel. I grabbed his sunglasses from the dash and put them on before I got out, using one hand to finger-comb my hair over the bruised side of my face. When Kade saw this, his jaw tightened, but he didn’t say anything.

Once back in our suite, I headed straight for the bathroom. I was in there a long time. I knew I had to do damage control with Kade but was putting it off.

I showered and brushed my teeth and tried to avoid looking in the mirror, which wasn’t easy. I put Kade’s shirt back on when I was through, finding it somehow comforting to me in a way I didn’t want to examine too closely.

After pawing through my makeup bag, I spent several minutes caking makeup on my bruises. It helped a little, but other than an icepack, there was nothing I could do about my swollen, bloodshot eye, so I put the sunglasses on again.

The smell of food made my stomach rumble and had me hurrying to finish brushing my hair. It had been twenty-four hours since I’d eaten and I felt more than a little shaky. When I came out of the bathroom, Kade was standing in front of the windows, his back to me, a drink held loosely in the hand at his side.

“Something smells good,” I said with forced cheerfulness as I headed to the dining table. It was laden with dishes, the aroma making my mouth water. It seemed Kade had ordered one of everything on the menu for me. I grabbed a plate and started helping myself. “You don’t mind if I start, do you?” I asked over my shoulder. “I’m starving.”

“That’s fine,” Kade said, his voice flat.

I avoided looking at him, rounding the table to sit cross-legged in a chair before attacking the food piled on my plate. I heard the clink of ice in his glass as he made another drink.

Several minutes passed in silence that grew thick and heavy. I barely tasted what I ate, the churning in my stomach telling me what was coming though I resolutely tried to ignore it. Denial had become a favorite state of mind lately.

“It’s good,” I said. “You should come have some.”

I felt more than heard Kade approach. He took the seat next to me and set his drink on the table. I caught a glimpse of his hand. The knuckles were raw and torn. I briefly wondered how well David had fared against Kade’s rage, then
decided I didn’t really care. He’d hurt me and I was sure that now he was very, very sorry he had.

Kade sat on my injured side, which bothered me. I kept my hair hiding my face. I didn’t want him to see, didn’t want to talk about it. But he reached out and removed my sunglasses.

“No, leave it,” I said, trying to grab the glasses back, but he’d already whisked them away. My fork clattered to my plate and I looked him in the eye. Time to tackle this head-on.

“I’m. Fine,” I said firmly. “I know it looks bad, but I’ve been through worse. It’ll heal in a few days, okay?”

“It’s not ‘okay,’ ” Kade said. “You could be dead—”

“I’m not,” I broke in. “And thank you, for not killing him.”

“I wanted to,” he said matter-of-factly. “Nearly did.”

“But you didn’t, and we should focus on that.” I smiled, but Kade didn’t smile back. His eyes were bleak as he studied me, and my smile faded away, too.

“This is my fault,” he murmured. “What was I thinking? That I could go legit and everything would be hunky-fucking-dory?”

“It is not your fault. It’s David’s fault, the slimy asshole. You made a deal and he didn’t keep his part of the bargain. You couldn’t have known what he was going to do.”

Kade’s smile was bitter. “I’m like the kiss of death for you, princess.”

“What? No! Don’t say that.” I was dismayed. I pushed back the midnight lock of hair that had fallen into his eyes, then cradled his cheek. “You rescued me,” I said. “Like I knew you would.”

“You shouldn’t need to be rescued.”

His words were so serious, and so final, that my breath caught.

“What are you getting at?” I asked, afraid of his answer.

His hand covered mine, the faint whiskers on his jaw softly abrading my skin as he turned his face into my palm and pressed his lips there. When his eyes again met mine, they were unusually bright.

“Tomorrow I’m taking you home,” he said. “And then I’m leaving. You won’t see me again.”

I couldn’t have heard that right. “What did you say?”

“It’s not worth it,” he said. “I won’t risk you again.” He stood, giving my fingers a squeeze before releasing my hand and heading back to the windows.

My hands turned to ice and I felt like the wind had been knocked out of me. I couldn’t breathe. This couldn’t be happening. Not again. I stood up so fast, my chair toppled behind me.

Kade turned around, his dark brows drawn, his mouth turned down in a frown.

“You are
not
going to do that,” I gritted out. “How could you even say that? I thought we were friends, Kade, and friends don’t just ditch each other when it’s convenient.”

“I’m not ‘ditching’ you,” he retorted. “I’m saving your life. You were nearly killed because of me three months ago when Garrett broke in, and now this today.…”

“That doesn’t matter—”

“It’s done.” Kade interrupted me. His voice echoed finality and he turned away, dismissing me as he walked toward the bar.

“So you’re just going to give up? Just like that?” Anger masked my desperation. I didn’t want to think about losing someone else, forever. I’d been so alone the past few months. Kade had helped me feel alive again.

“Sometimes you gotta know when to fold ’em,” Kade quipped, flashing me a bitter smile as he poured more bourbon into his glass and took a healthy swallow. “Or at least that’s what Kenny always said.”

“Bullshit.”

“You said it yourself,” he said, lifting his glass as though in a toast. “Blane and I won’t ever reconcile if you’re still in the picture. That leaves only one option.”

I sucked in my breath at that, his words cutting deep. It was one thing to blame myself for coming between them, but another thing entirely to hear Kade speak of tossing me aside so matter-of-factly. Guilt stirred within me even as my eyes filled with tears.

“Go to hell,” I said, seething and hurrying past him to my bedroom. It was all I could do to not run. I slammed the door and flopped onto the bed.

My hands were shaking and I felt inches from falling apart. Everything I’d felt when Blane had dumped me came flooding back. The anger. The heartbreak. The loneliness. Even when Kade had been absent the past few months, I hadn’t really thought it would be forever. I’d kept thinking that he’d turn up, sooner or later—that he hadn’t abandoned me entirely.

Now it seemed he was prepared to do just that.

I had to get a grip. This wasn’t me, this needy, weepy person. I’d withstood my father’s death, my mother’s illness and subsequent death, the breakup with my fiancé,
being kidnapped—twice—and nearly dying too many times. Surely I could handle this.

But as logically as I reasoned out all that had happened to me, it didn’t stop the deadening ache inside my chest. I wrapped my arms around my knees and rocked.

I don’t know how long I stayed that way, my thoughts in a turmoil, wondering how I was going to get through the next few days, weeks, months. Alone. Again.

Hours passed and, eventually, I must have fallen asleep. Something woke me, though, and I jerked awake, cringing at the crick in my neck. Then I heard a thump and a crash.

Jumping to my feet, I hurried out of my room, afraid but still too sleep befuddled to reason. I stepped into the living room and halted, not fully comprehending the sight that met my eyes.

C
HAPTER
S
EVEN

K
ade was lying sprawled on his back on the floor, a half-empty bottle of bourbon at his side. A completely empty one lay a few feet away.

Shocked, I hurried to him and dropped to my knees at his side.

“Kade! Are you all right?” I grabbed his shoulder and he abruptly sat up, his eyes squinting as though the light hurt them even though it wasn’t that bright.

“Prin
cesss
,” he slurred. “What’re you doin’ here? Thought you were ’sleep.”

Oh God. He was drunk. I’d never seen him drunk, though I’d definitely seen him drink many times. Kade didn’t strike me as the type to ever let down his guard enough to get drunk. I was surprised he’d done so tonight.

“Have you been out here drinking all this time?” I asked in dismay.

Kade’s brow scrunched, as if he were trying to remember. “Um, yeah. Think so.”

My gut twisted and I reached to take his arm. “Come on,” I said. “Let’s get you into bed.”

Kade flashed a wicked smirk. “Tha’s my line,” he said. “But okay.”

Getting him off the floor was a feat. He kept getting distracted. It was like trying to keep the attention of a two-year-old.

“Mmm, you smell good,” he said, burying his nose in my hair when I leaned over to try to haul him upward.

“Thanks,” I said, my good humor somewhat lacking. He was heavy. I tried pulling again, but he just sat there.

“Is that my shirt?” he asked. “My clothes look good on you, but I bet they’d look better
off
you.” He began pulling at my buttons. I slapped his hands away.

“Stop that,” I scolded. “Help me out here. Stand up.”

After some stops and starts, Kade was finally on his feet, though I had a few scary moments when I feared he might topple over and take me down with him.

“C’mon,” I said, heading to his bedroom. He leaned heavily on me.

“You’re too little to carry me,” he protested, trying to stand on his own. He immediately began listing to one side and I had to grab the front of his shirt to right him.

“Whoa there, buddy.” I slid my arm back around his waist and drew his arm over my shoulders. “We’re almost there, okay?”

“I forgot my bottle,” he said, turning back halfheartedly. I had to turn with him or risk falling down.

“You don’t need it. It’s okay,” I said, pulling him forward and shuffling him a few more steps closer to the bedroom.

“Course I need it,” he scoffed. “She coulda
died
, you know. And it’d been
my
fault.” Even with his slurring, I could understand he was talking about me. “I’m bad,” he continued. “Bad for everybody.”

“You’re not bad,” I insisted. “Just drunk.” A few more steps and we’d be at the doorway to his bedroom, thank goodness. My shoulders were starting to ache.

“No, I’m bad,” he said, narrowly avoiding taking out a table in the hallway. “She should be with Blane. He’s the good one.”

I wasn’t sure I agreed with that.

“Told him, told him—not sleeping with her. Stupid fuck. Ruined it. Told me to get the fuck out. Done with me.”

That made my ears perk up and distracted me from trying not to let Kade’s flailing arm knock over what I was sure was an expensive flower-filled vase.

“What do you mean ‘done with’ you?” I asked.

“All these years,” Kade mused, ignoring me. “Kept waiting for it, knew he’d be through eventu’ly. Still took me by surprise, though.” His tone had changed from cheerful drunk to morose.

Blane had thrown Kade out? Told him he was done with him? Because of his stupid, idiotic belief in his uncle’s lies? I gritted my teeth. As though this whole situation weren’t complicated enough, Blane had to take away the one thing he’d tried so hard to give Kade all these years—his unconditional acceptance. Asshole.

I managed to get to the bed and was relieved to plop Kade down on it. He looked at me as though just realizing again who I was.