Turning Point (The Kathleen Turner Series) Page 10

  “She’s perfect for this case,” Blane said, taking another drink of the cabernet he’d ordered. “On a rape case, it’s essential to have a female lawyer in front of the jury.”

  His words made the food in my stomach turn sour. I knew he was just doing his job, being pragmatic about trying the case, but I still hated the thought of him getting a rapist off.

  When I didn’t say anything, Blane reached over and took my hand. “I know how you feel, Kat, and I’m sorry. But I have to try this case. Please trust me.”

  It seemed I didn’t really have any choice in the matter. He wouldn’t tell me his reasons and he wasn’t going to drop the case, no matter my objections.

  “Let’s talk about something else,” I said, easing my hand out from under his. “Did you call Kade?”

  I’d been worrying in the back of my mind about Kade. He was quite capable of taking care of himself, but it would only take a moment of not being quick enough, not seeing the danger, and it would be over.

  Blane stiffened, his expression turning unreadable. “I did” was all he said.

  “And?” I prompted. “Is he all right? What did he want?”

  “You seem awfully concerned with Kade’s well-being,” Blane noted.

  “Of course I am, he’s your brother. Why wouldn’t I be?”

  “He’s fine,” Blane said curtly. “Had some business to discuss. That’s all.”

  Blane’s easy dismissal made me angry. “Did he tell you that someone’s trying to kill him?” I asked.

  Blane’s eyes snapped to mine. “What are you talking about?”

  Looks like he hadn’t. “Kade said he was close to finding out who was pulling the strings on Sheffield, so we went to Denver to investigate. But somebody knew he was coming. They sent two guys to kill us, and I’m sure Kade’s still on their hit list.”

  Blane’s expression had grown more forbidding with each word out of my mouth. “What happened to the guys?” he asked.

  I swallowed, remembering the sickening crack of the man’s neck. “Kade got to them first.”

  “And where were you while this was going on?”

  “Watching.”

  Blane cursed, tossed some money on the table to cover the bill, took me by the elbow, and led me to his car. When we were on the road, he hit the Bluetooth button on his cell. After a moment, I could hear ringing over the car speakers.

  It rang a few times, then a familiar voice answered. “Yeah,” Kade said.

  The relief I felt at hearing him, knowing he was alive, rushed through me. I bowed my head to keep my composure, taken aback at the strength of my feelings.

  “You didn’t tell me that someone’s trying to kill you over this Sheffield thing,” Blane accused.

  “Someone’s been chatty,” Kade replied, unaffected by Blane’s anger.

  “Of course Kat told me. Why wouldn’t she? What I want to know is why you didn’t.”

  “It’s not related to Summers, it was a lead I was pursuing on my own. Nothing you needed to know about.”

  “I told you to let the Sheffield thing go. It’s not worth it. You not only ignored that, you pulled Kathleen into the mess, too.”

  That got a reaction. “Don’t go there, Blane,” Kade shot back. “Kathleen was never in any danger. I sent her home once I knew what was going on.”

  “I don’t want her involved in this.”

  I felt like the worst sort of voyeur, listening to their conversation when I knew Kade didn’t have a clue that I was there. And I really didn’t like the rising level of tension between Blane and Kade as they continued to argue.

  “Blane, stop,” I said loudly, unable to take any more.

  They both abruptly stopped talking. Blane glanced my way.

  “Kathleen?” Kade asked.

  I took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m here.”

  “Nice of Blane to mention that small detail.” Kade’s voice was thickly laden with sarcasm.

  “I didn’t realize it was necessary,” Blane said. “I don’t hide things from Kathleen. Can you say the same?”

  “Stop it, both of you,” I interjected. “I’m not a child to be dealt with and coddled. I went with Kade of my own volition, Blane. He’s not to blame for my choices. And may I remind you that even now you’re working a case for reasons I can’t fathom and you won’t divulge.”

  “You haven’t told her?” Kade said, an edge to his voice.

  Blane grimaced. “We’ll talk later.” He ended the call.

  I remained quiet until we pulled into my parking lot. He had just turned off the car when his phone rang.

  “Kirk,” he answered sharply. He listened for a moment. “I’ll be right there.”

  My heart sank.

  “I’ve got to go. Summers got himself in a mess and I can’t have it leaking to the press,” he said.

  “It’s fine,” I said. “I understand.”

  Our eyes met and held. Blane leaned toward me, moving slowly until his lips brushed mine. Then he was kissing me with a hunger and desperation that left me breathless. I clung to his shoulders, overwhelmed.

  When he lifted his head, he cradled my jaw in his large palm, his eyes intent on mine. I couldn’t look away.

  “You’re like water,” he murmured, “slipping through my fingers.” He pressed a kiss to my forehead and looked again into my eyes. “We’re going to get through this,” he said firmly. “Just trust me, Kat. That’s all I’m asking.”

  My emotions were in turmoil. I wanted to trust him, but I didn’t like that he wasn’t being fully honest with me. Yet I couldn’t deny him. I nodded. “Okay.”

  A brief flash of something like relief crossed his face. “I’ll be back as soon as I can,” he assured me.

  “All right. Be careful.” I got out of the car and watched as he drove away.

  As I got ready for bed, I dwelled on Blane’s uncharacteristically emotional declaration. I didn’t understand what he meant or why he would say such a thing. I fell asleep on the couch waiting for him.

  Loud knocking on the door woke me, and I struggled to gain my bearings. It took a moment to remember why I was on the couch and that Blane wasn’t yet here. I blearily focused on the flickering light of the television.

  The knock came again and I jumped up, thinking Blane must have forgotten his key.

  I opened the door and bit back a shriek.

  A man stood in the shadow of the open doorway. Tall and unshaven, he wore jeans, a T-shirt and a jacket. His lips twisted he surveyed me.

  I quickly flipped on the light switch, illuminating the darkness.

  “Chance?” I asked in disbelief.

  CHAPTER SIX

  “Hey, Strawbs. Let me in?”

  His words were casual and the old nickname familiar, but his voice was strained. Jerking myself out of my shock-induced immobility, I stepped back.

  “Yeah, come inside,” I said.

  Chance glanced over his shoulder at the darkened parking lot before quickly moving past me.

  I locked the door behind him. “What in the world are you doing here?”

  He snorted. “Nice to see you, too.”

  “I haven’t seen or heard from you since Mom’s funeral,” I said stiffly. I crossed my arms over my chest. “How do you expect me to react to you showing up at my apartment unannounced in the middle of the night?”

  “I thought you’d be glad to see family,” he said, reaching for me. “God, it’s good to see you” He hugged me tightly.

  The familiar feel of his arms around me cracked my icy reserve.

  As Chance shrugged off his leather jacket, my eyes widened at the gun stuffed into the back of his jeans. He glanced curiously around my apartment, then made himself at home on the couch, sinking into the leather cushions with a tired sigh.

  My cousin and I didn’t much resemble one another. Where I was fair, he was a dark brunette, his hair naturally wavy and thick. He was taller than me by several inches, and it seemed he’d spent time in a gym sinc
e I’d last seen him, the muscles in his chest and arms straining the thin cotton of his dark-gray T-shirt. The only thing we shared was the same blue eyes.

  Chance was only a couple of years older than me and we’d been close as children; he was the big brother I’d never had. Always fascinated with the color of my hair, he had dubbed me “Strawberry,” which had shortened to “Strawbs” over the years. When his parents divorced, he’d moved with his dad to Atlanta. After that, we’d seen each other only rarely. The last time had been at my mother’s funeral three years ago. I hadn’t heard from him since.

  “So are you going to tell me what brings you here?” I asked, sinking down beside him, my legs curled beneath me. “It’s a little late for a social visit, even for family.”

  “I was in the neighborhood,” Chance replied, glancing away from me.

  “Are you here from Atlanta? On business or”—I remembered the gun—“something?”

  “On business,” he said, looking uncomfortable. “Listen, I probably shouldn’t have come by. It was a bad idea. I should go.” He rose from the couch.

  “No, wait!” I grabbed his arm as he stood. “You can’t just leave, you just got here!”

  He looked uncertain, so I pressed. “Please stay. Talk to me. I… I’ve missed you.”

  Chance crushed me in another hug and I held on tight. “I’ve missed you, too,” he said, his voice thick. “So much. You have no idea.”

  We stood like that, emotion clogging my throat, for the better part of a minute before I drew back.

  I cleared my throat, blinking back the tears that had threatened. “Can I get you something to drink?” I asked. “Water? Pepsi?”

  “Got anything stronger?”

  I went to the kitchen and returned with a bottle of beer. Chance accepted it, downing a long swallow.

  “How’ve you been?” he asked. “When did you move here?”

  “Almost a year ago. I would have told you, but I didn’t know how to reach you.” I tried to not sound bitter.

  Chance had been the one to hold my hand when I’d buried my mom. Even though miles had separated us, we’d never lost that closeness of childhood and I’d been grateful to lean on him during those rough days. When he’d left to go back to Atlanta, it hadn’t occurred to me that it would be the last I’d see or speak to him in a very long time.

  Chance had the grace to look abashed. “Listen, I would’ve been in touch… wanted to be. Things just happened… and before I knew it, it was too late.”

  “What are you talking about?” I was confused. “What things happened?”

  Chance swiped a tired hand across his face. “Can I borrow your shower first?” he asked with a sigh. “Then we’ll talk.”

  I waited, perched on the edge of the couch, while Chance took a shower. I’d refrained from making any comment when he’d discarded his gun on my coffee table.

  I didn’t know why he was here now or why he’d been so conspicuously absent for so long. I’d tried a few times to get in touch with him after Mom’s funeral, but I’d eventually given up. It was obvious that he’d grown out of our childhood attachment. It had hurt me, but I figured people grow and change, and maybe I just hadn’t meant as much to him as he’d meant to me.

  Chance came out of the bathroom, wearing the same clothes but now with damp hair. Sitting back down beside me, he gave my hair a stroke the way he always had, his fingers tangling in the long locks.

  “Thanks,” he said.

  I nodded, unable to speak. The familiar gesture had robbed me of my strained composure.

  “Hey,” Chance said gently, catching my chin with his fingers and turning me toward him. “What’s the matter?”

  I swiped at my eyes. “You,” I choked out. “I can’t believe you’re here after all this time. You’re the only family I have left. I could have really used you over the past few years.” I tried to conceal my hurt, but I could still hear it in my voice.

  A pained look crossed his face. He brushed the tears off my wet cheeks, then took my hand in his. “I’m so sorry,” he said. “I can’t tell you how sorry I am. I’ve thought about you so many times. Believe me, if there had been a way for me to be around, I would have. I swear to you.”

  I knew Chance. I could read his face as well as my own, and knew he was telling me the truth, could tell he’d felt the pain of our separation as much as I had. The hurt I’d carried around for three years finally eased, like a dam breaking, and I didn’t resist when he pulled me into his arms again.

  We sat like that for a while. He asked me why I’d moved to Indy and how I liked my job. Tigger had jumped on my lap and I absently petted him as I talked. Wanting to keep things light, I didn’t go into detail about Blane or Kade or the things that had happened in the past few months. Chance leaned his head back against the couch as I quietly spoke.

  I had no idea what time it was when I was finally talked out. We sat in companionable silence for a while before I asked, “So are you in town for long?”

  “Maybe a little while,” he said.

  “Will I see you again?”

  “I’ll try really hard.” Chance pulled away, turning to look at me intensely. “It’s important, very important, that you don’t tell anyone about me. Not my name, not that I’m here, nothing.”

  “Why?”

  He hesitated. “I can’t tell you. Just please, trust me. I probably shouldn’t have even come here tonight. I just… I just really needed to see you again.”

  My eyes stung again and I nodded, agreeing to keep his secret.

  Chance had meant everything to me as a kid. I’d trusted him to watch out for me, keep me safe, take care of me—and he had. I still didn’t know what had happened after Mom’s funeral, but I trusted that he had a reason for staying away, and it hadn’t been because he’d wanted to. He was my only family, and if he wanted me to keep a secret, then that’s what I would do, no matter what.

  He glanced at his watch, then stood. “I need to get going,” he said, tucking his gun behind his waist and shrugging into his jacket.

  “But it’s the middle of the night!” I protested.

  “Best to slip out when it’s darkest, right before the dawn.”

  I followed him to the door, anxiously wanting to do or say something that would keep him there a bit longer. When he opened the door, the cold air seeped inside and I crossed my arms over my chest, wishing I had something more on that a T-shirt and shorts.

  “I’ll be back when I can, I promise,” he assured me, pausing outside to pull me into a tight hug.

  I looped my arms around his neck and squeezed. “Be careful.”

  “I will. Night, Strawbs.”

  With a peck on my forehead, he was gone, fading into the darkness enveloping the stairs down to the parking lot. I waited for a moment, then saw a motorcycle drive away, Chance on its back. The image blurred and I swiped a hand across my eyes.

  “Strawbs?”

  The voice startled a shriek from me, and I spun to face the shadows by Alisha’s door.

  Blane stepped forward, his eyes on mine.

  “Who was that, Kat?”

  I gaped at him, at a complete loss for words. I hadn’t expected him there and I certainly hadn’t expected to have to explain Chance’s presence. The words “He’s my cousin” sprang to my tongue, but I bit them back just as quickly. Chance had been emphatic about me not telling anyone who he was. I wouldn’t betray him. Not even to Blane.

  “A… friend,” I said lamely.

  Blane’s eyes narrowed and he stepped closer, looming over me. “What kind of friend?”

  I swallowed. “I’ve known him for a long time. He was just… in town and thought he’d stop by.” All of which was true.

  I turned and went back into my apartment.

  Blane followed me. “He kissed you,” he said. “That seems like a very good friend. What’s his name?”

  Panic flared. There was no way I could hold up under a full-blown Blane interrogation, so I we
nt on offense. “What is this, the Inquisition? He’s a friend, that’s all.”

  It was only then that I took a good look at Blane. He looked exhausted, though his gaze was sharp. The shadow on his jaw proclaimed it had been awhile since he’d shaved. He was wearing the same clothes he’d had on when I’d last seen him—a suit with a white shirt, his tie now discarded.

  Blane stalked me while I slowly retreated. “It’s almost dawn, Kat.” He spoke in that calmly reasonable lawyer tone of his that usually always boded ill for whatever argument I was making. “I come to my girlfriend’s apartment to find her in an embrace with a mysterious unknown man. Why wouldn’t I ask these questions?”

  I sidled beyond his reach. “Are you jealous?” I asked in disbelief, watching as he removed his jacket without once breaking eye contact.

  It seemed incomprehensible to me that Blane could possibly be jealous of anyone. My entire apartment seemed filled with his presence, his charisma and electricity drawing me into him as though I were a celestial body caught in the gravity of a blazing sun.

  Blane feinted right and I fell for it, not moving quickly enough when he snagged me around the waist and brought me up hard against his body, imprisoning me in his arms. My breath caught and I tipped my head back. The look in his eyes was a mix of hunger and anger, his hold on me branding his possession. His cologne had faded, leaving just his own scent on his skin.

  “You’re damn right I’m jealous,” he growled.

  His mouth came down on mine with bruising force. I gasped, and his tongue surged inside. Fire blazed in my veins and I forgot what we were arguing about. He licked and bit his way down my neck, the scrape of his teeth against my skin more intoxicating than I would have believed.

  I held tightly to his shoulders, my fingernails digging into his skin, as he shoved my shorts and underwear down my hips to drop to the floor. His hand was between my legs, stroking and then plunging inside of me.

  I gasped, the suddenness of his assault both thrilling and frightening me.

  “I need you.” His voice was a husky whisper against my skin.

  “Yes,” I breathed.