Turn To Me (31 page)

“Moon Pie?”  I’d heard of these, but never tried one.  I don’t think I remembered even encountering them in a store in Indiana before.  “Where did you get these?”

“I have my sources,” Kade said, ripping open one of the packages.  I watched as he broke the chocolate covered circle in half, what looked like marshmallow fluff oozing out of the middle.  Kade took a bite of one half, his eyes sliding shut in appreciation.  It seemed incongruous, but was apparently true – Kade had a sweet tooth.  His eyes opened, catching me staring at his mouth.  I flushed.

“Try it,” Kade insisted.  “You can’t have that much booze on an empty stomach or you’re going to be puking, and I’m not holding your hair for you.”

I grimaced.  It didn’t look very good, chocolate notwithstanding, though he had a good point about the puking.  Kade made an impatient noise at my hesitation.

“Here, just try.”  Instead of offering me the pie, he took his finger and scooped some of the marshmallow out of the pie and held it out it to me.  Surprised, I looked up at him, only to see a hint of a challenge in his gaze.  He no doubt thought I wouldn’t do it. 

I leaned forward and wrapped my lips around the creamy fluff, Kade’s finger sliding into my mouth.  I heard Kade’s sharp intake of breath and smiled to myself.  It wasn’t often I was able to best Kade at his own game. 

The rough pad of Kade’s finger felt very nice on my tongue.  But soon the fluff was gone and I let his finger slide from my mouth.  Taking a half of a moon pie, I took a bite, waiting to see what Kade would say.  He didn’t disappoint.

“If I’d known you’d do that to anything covered in marshmallow, I would have put it in a different location.” 

I chuckled, the vodka helping me to appreciate his sense of humor more than usual.

I finished the moon pie, licking the melted chocolate from my fingers.  Kade watched me in such a way that I thought it might be a good idea to renew my interest in going home.

“Are you going to take me home now?” I asked.

“Wasn't planning on it.”

His curt answer irritated me.  It wasn't like I could just stay here with him.  “I need to go home,” I insisted.

“And then what?” Kade retorted.  “In case you haven't noticed, you have no car.  No car means no transportation.”

I stared blankly at him, realizing he was right.  My car was a smoldering pile of ruins.  The thought of having to buy another one made me sick to my stomach.  The meager amount in my savings would be entirely depleted.  And what was I going to do until then?  I had no boyfriend to loan me a car and didn't want to be a burden on my few friends by having them cart me around.

My aloneness hit me with the force of a sucker punch.  I'd gotten accustomed not only to Blane's company, but his solid presence in my life.  Now it was gone and I was once again on my own.  The tears I'd been holding back welled in my eyes, spilling over and down my cheeks.

Kade cursed, hurriedly rounding the counter to me.  He took me in his arms and I didn't resist; the temptation to lean on him was too great.  He held me as I wept, one hand wrapped around my back, the other running soothingly through my hair, over and over.  With my head tucked under his chin, I could hear the slight rumbling in his chest as he spoke to me.

“Shh.  I'm sorry, princess.  Don't cry.  Please.”

My chest hurt with a physical pain, my heart breaking inside.  I didn't want to think about why Blane would cheat on me, why he would choose to hurt and betray me in this fashion.  Now I had nothing and no one.  I sobbed harder.

“Please, Kathleen,” Kade pleaded.  “Please don't cry.”

With an effort, I stopped.  My eyes were swollen and my head was pounding.  I tried to take deep breaths, but my breath kept hitching in my chest.

“There, that's better,” Kade said softly.  His hands cradled my face, his thumbs brushing away my tears.  “I'm sorry Blane's such a bastard.  And I'm not any better.  But you're not alone, okay?”

I forced a weak smile.  “But I am,” I whispered sadly.

“You have me.”

The fierceness of his declaration surprised me and I stared at him.  His face was inches from mine as he gazed in my eyes before gently pressing his lips to my forehead. 

Leaning back to look at me, he smiled a real smile, not his usual mocking smirk.  It wiped the cynicism from his features and was worth the effort to smile back.  He placed a comforting kiss on each cheek while I sniffled.  His hands cupped my jaw, his long fingers reaching back into the hair at the nape of my neck.  Kade's hands were large and strong and I had the passing thought that he could snap my neck in an instant if he wanted to.

His lips on mine took me by surprise before I realized this was a kiss of comfort, not sexual, but that didn't stop me from sucking in my breath or my pulse leaping under his fingers.

When he drew back to look at me, his eyes held a question.  I couldn't help my gaze drifting down to his mouth.  The tension between us grew thick as we stood there, my tears forgotten.  I could smell the scent of cologne on his skin, the cotton of his shirt soft under my fingers, the warmth of his skin seeping through the thin fabric.

I felt as though we were hanging on a precipice – only a millimeter from falling over the edge – and I couldn't say whether I wanted that to happen or not.  He was so beautiful, and for once his eyes held no mockery, no derision as he gazed at me.  With a brilliant clarity, I remembered being in the motel in Chicago with Kade and how he had touched me, laid his head on my lap, placed a kiss on my knee.  It seemed Kade trusted no one, was close to no one, and I was humbled that he'd let me in even this much. 

Unbidden, my hand reached to push back a lock of his silky dark hair that had fallen over his brow.  As my fingers slipped through the strands, Kade groaned softly, a sound somewhere between pleasure and pain, and then the choice was no longer mine to make.

His mouth met mine with an intensity that left me reeling.  Kade's hands cradled my head as he kissed me, his lips tender yet demanding a response.

“Kiss me back, princess,” he murmured against my mouth.

I couldn’t to deny him, this man who put his own soul at risk to save others from a terrible fate.  He wanted me and I needed him.

Kade's kiss was different than the one and only other time we'd kissed.  That had been purely sexual.  This time, it was as though he were worshipping me with his lips and tongue.  The room seemed to spin and I held on tightly to him, the only thing sure and grounded and real.  His tongue slid against mine, a whisper of heat and satin, not claiming so much as exploring and entrancing me.

When he finally raised his head, the look in his eyes was one I couldn't decipher.  My breath was coming in pants and I wanted him to kiss me and never let go.

“Why'd you stop?” I whispered.

“You're drunk,” he answered roughly, his fingers softly threading through my hair.  I closed my eyes, leaning into his hand.  “And I have no interest in being your rebound guy.”

I heard him speaking, but his words didn't really penetrate, too enraptured was I by his touch, gentle and sweet.  I swayed on my feet.  He steadied me, his arms sliding around my waist.

“Come on,” he said.  “You need to get some rest.”

“No,” I protested, trying ineffectually to pull away.  “I don't want to sleep.”  I was terrified that if I slept, I would dream.  Would I escape the exploding car in my nightmares? 

Kade studied me and I felt as though he could see right through to my innermost thoughts, his blue eyes penetrating my few remaining defenses.

“All right,” he said, turning and leading me by the hand into his living room. 

The furniture and walls were all in a palette of ivories, beiges and coffee; the floor a beautiful hard wood that was chilly on my bare feet.  It was masculine without being overbearing, classy and yet comfortable.  I looked around, then sank onto a sofa that faced a wall where a flat-screen television hung.  I tucked my legs Indian-style, tugging Kade's shirt down over my exposed thighs.  It was a little cold.

“Where’s your Christmas tree?” I asked as Kade sat down next to me on the couch.

He just looked at me.

“What?” I asked.  “Everyone should have a Christmas tree, even if it’s only a little one.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” he said dryly, pulling my unresisting body into his arms and laying us side by side on the couch, back to front, my bottom tucked up against his hips.

Seeing a remote control on the nearby ottoman, I grabbed it, finding and pressing the power button.  I flipped channels until I stumbled across
A Charlie Brown Christmas
playing.

We didn’t speak, merely watching the story of Charlie Brown and his search for the true meaning of Christmas and the scraggly little Christmas tree that just needed a little love.  As the closing credits rolled, I spoke.

“Thank you,” I said quietly.

Kade glanced down at me.  “For what?”

“Saving me.  Again.”

The corner of his mouth twisted upward.  “I have told you you’re a shit load of trouble, right?”

I smiled.  The words he’d once uttered in loathing now seemed like a teasing endearment.  “I believe you may have mentioned that.”

The brilliant blue of his eyes held me captive until I forced myself to look away. 

“Did you used to watch this as a kid?” I asked, searching for something to say.  I indicated the television.

Kade's expression grew cold and distant.  “I might have,” he said.  “I don't really remember.”

I frowned.  “You don't remember?”

“I spent the days and nights just trying to survive when I was a kid,” he said flatly.  “Holiday specials weren't a big part of that.”

With a pang, I remembered the burn scars on his back.  I wriggled until I was turned toward him.  He'd rested his head on his palm, his elbow braced on the couch as he looked down at me.

“Tell me?” I softly asked.  My hand stretched upward to push through his hair, my fingers pale against the midnight locks.

His brows furrowed and he opened his mouth to speak, but hesitated.  I waited patiently, warm from his body pressed against mine on the couch, his hand resting lightly on my hip.

“Not everyone was bad,” he finally said, the words seeming to come difficult to him.  “But a few were the stuff of nightmares.  Those, I ran away from.  But there was one...I couldn't run away.”

“Why not?”  My question was almost a whisper, caught as I was by the haunted look in his eyes.

“There was a little girl there, too, younger than me.  She didn't know, didn't understand, and he'd go after her.”

I barely breathed as I listened.  Kade's eyes were on mine, seeming to beg my forgiveness even as he told this horror to me.

“I figured out I could distract him, make him stop, if I pissed him off.  Kind of like a diversion.  He was a mean sonofabitch.  Liked to do the cigarettes and the belt.  His fists when he was too drunk to find something else.  A few times a broken bottle, a knife.”

Tears started leaking from my eyes, but I couldn't look away from the pain in his.

“Eventually, the girl left.  The state took her away.  Blane found me shortly after that.”

“What happened to the girl?” I asked.

Kade's mouth twisted.  “You've met her,” he said.  “It was Branna.”

I could only look at him, surprise etched on my face.  Branna had been the gorgeous brunette who had helped us in Chicago, along with Terrance and Rusty.  I'd known then that she was in love with Kade, though I'd had no idea of their history together, of how much Kade had sacrificed to protect the weak and innocent, even back then.

Tears still spilled from the corners of my eyes and Kade frowned, brushing them lightly away.

“I didn't tell you that so you'd feel sorry for me,” he said.

I shook my head.  “I don't feel sorry for you, or pity you.  I feel...”  I struggled to put my thoughts into words.  “Rage and helplessness.  Sorrow and despair.  I hate that you had to endure such things and I hate the people who did them to you.”

Kade studied me, but I couldn’t tell what he was thinking.  My hand still moved through his hair and I didn't dare look away, wanting him to read the sincerity in my eyes.  Somehow, I doubted he'd told this story to very many people, maybe to no one, and I didn't want him to regret telling me.

“I lied, you know,” he said casually.

My hand froze and my entire body went still beneath his. 

“I did look.”

It took my fogged brain a moment to puzzle through what he meant, then I let out a relieved huff of laughter.  Of course.  He was talking about when he'd changed my clothes earlier and had told me he “hadn't looked.”  The twinkle of mischief was back in his eyes, his lips twisted in a teasing grin. 

I marveled at how a week ago, if I'd been told I'd be in this situation with Kade, I'd never have believed it.  Of course, if I'd also been told a week ago that Blane would cheat on me with Kandi...well, that I might actually have believed.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

When I woke the next morning, it was to hear raised voices coming from Kade's living room.  I rubbed my bleary eyes, looking for a clock.  It was after ten am.  The voices quieted so I got out of bed, groaning.  The vodka was making its aftereffects known; my head was pounding.  Easing my way to the bathroom, I found a brush to run through my tousled hair.  An extra toothbrush lay on the counter, still in the packaging, and I mentally thanked Kade.  My mouth felt like it had been filled with cotton overnight.

When I came out of the bathroom, I listened, but heard nothing.  Figuring it had just been the television, I stepped out of the bedroom, only to freeze in my tracks at the sight of Blane and Kade standing in the living room.

Both their eyes swung to me.  Blane's gaze swept me from head to foot, taking in that I wore only Kade's shirt.  Seeing as how I'd just stepped out of his bedroom, I watched as he made connections in his mind, his expression turning to icy granite that I knew boded ill.  I shrank backward, momentarily afraid of him.  But then my fear turned to horror when he turned and launched himself at Kade.