Point of No Return

CHAPTER EIGHT

It had been a fourteen-hour drive from Indy to Boston. Kade would have driven it without stopping, but his body wouldn’t cooperate. He’d pulled off somewhere near Allentown, finding a dive of a motel and paying cash for a room.

After showering, he’d lain on the bed in his jeans, unable to sleep. He picked up his cell, a new burner phone he’d bought. His old phone lay at the bottom of the White River outside Indy, where he’d stopped to toss it after leaving Kathleen’s apartment.

His fingers traced the numbers for Kathleen’s cell, but he didn’t dial. Kade had made it impossible for either Blane or Kathleen to reach him, which was best for them all. A clean break.

The T-shirt he’d taken from Kathleen’s apartment lay on the bed beside him. Absently, Kade picked it up. The fabric was worn, soft, and still smelled of her. He wondered if she was with Blane, waking up in his arms this morning.

He fell asleep with her image behind his closed eyes. His dreams were filled with Kathleen in his bed, her eyes warm and soft as he kissed her, the feel of her nails digging into his back as he pushed deep inside her, her gasps and sighs echoing in his ears.

Waking to the reality he now faced from the peace and contentment of his dreams was like dying from a thousand cuts.

Kade arrived in Boston the next night. He drove straight to his office, pulling into the garage and parking. The garage was actually part of the space, his “office” being an old self-storage building. It was made of thick red brick, with a chain-link fence surrounding it to discourage any curiosity. If someone did get too close, the grounds were wired with numerous ways to scare them off.

Climbing a wrought-iron spiral staircase, Kade stepped into a loft that he’d converted to a living space. Unlike his apartment in Indy, it wasn’t luxurious or even that comfortable. But it was functional, and that was all he really required.

The stark white, windowless walls were bare, and Kade pulled off his shirt, tossing it onto the bed as he headed to the kitchen area. Pulling open the fridge, he grabbed a bottle of water, twisted off the cap, and drank half the bottle in one long gulp. A moment later, he was heading back down the stairs to where he’d set up his computers.

Various green and blue lights glowed in the dark as Kade flipped on the overhead lights. A server rack was on his right, the computers it contained humming. The noise was familiar and comforting to Kade. At least he had control over this part of his life, considering the rest had gone to complete and utter shit.

Six computer monitors, stacked two tall, sat on a large table. Kade sank into the chair in front of the monitors, toggling a key on the lone keyboard. The screens flickered to life. Two of the monitors showed the black-and-white footage of surveillance cameras—some for here, others for his apartment in Indy. Glancing over the ones in Indy, he saw the housekeeper hadn’t yet taken care of the place as he’d directed.

Kade’s need to know about Kathleen ate at him, and it was only because of an iron grip on his self-control that he didn’t try and call her. He briefly considered calling Blane, but knew he couldn’t do that, either.

It was clear he should get to work. There were jobs waiting to be done, just sitting there on his desk. Jobs he’d taken when he’d thought going legit would solve all his problems. Now, he didn’t give a shit.

The next night he sat in a bar, drink in hand. He’d lost track of how many he’d had. But still, no matter how much he drank, it didn’t seem to numb the pain eating him from the inside out.

He’d been a fool to think somebody like him could have a happily-ever-after.

The joy and peace he’d felt when Kathleen had said she loved him, wanted to be with him, told him she was carrying their child—all of it had faded to ash. It had been so close . . .

Kade tipped the glass back, emptying the clear liquid in one swallow. He set it back down on the bar, caught the bartender’s eye, and tapped it to signal a refill. Obligingly, the man came over, grabbing a bottle on the way, and poured another double for him.

“Everything all right there, buddy?” the bartender asked. “You wanna talk about it?”

Kade glanced up and frowned, pulled from his thoughts by the questions. The man was watching him with some concern, which just pissed Kade off. “What are you, a fucking bartender or a shrink? Fuck off.”

Immediately dismissing the man from his attention, Kade returned to his thoughts. The bartender went away. He might’ve been pissed. Kade didn’t care.

He left when the bar closed and the now not-so-friendly bartender kicked him out. Kade was unlocking his car when he heard the scuff of a shoe behind him and a voice say, “Give me your wallet, dickhead.”

Kade sighed. He really didn’t feel like this shit tonight. Turning around, he leaned back against the car, surveying the guy who was stupid enough to try and mug him.

He was about Kade’s height, with a slightly heavier build. It was hard to tell his age in the dark, though there was no mistaking the knife in his hand.

“Listen,” Kade said, his lips twisting into something resembling a smile, “you seem like a real nice guy, so I’m going to give you some advice. Go find someone else to play with tonight. I’m in a shitty mood.”

“Shut up and give it to me, or I’ll hand you your fucking spleen,” the guy threatened.

Kade gave a mock frown. “Do you even know where the spleen is?” he asked. “Not that I’m doubting your sincerity, just your capability.” This guy was starting to piss him off, the anger burning away both the alcohol and the pain.

Apparently, the guy didn’t know where the spleen was located, because when he lunged, he was miles off. Kade reacted quickly, twisting to the side to avoid the clumsy knife thrust, then grabbing the guy’s wrist.

Now they were in close quarters. Anger spiked hard in Kade. He jabbed his bent elbow up, catching the mugger on the soft spot underneath his chin. The guy faltered at the blow, his teeth clacking hard together. Kade bent the guy’s wrist down and shoved, a crack letting him know he’d broken the joint. The guy cried out in pain, the knife dropping from his fingers, but Kade was too far gone to let things go with that.

His fist shot out in a crushing blow to the man’s esophagus, then Kade’s elbow caught him in the solar plexus. The guy went down, his good hand flying to his neck as he tried in vain to suck down air.

Kade watched for the one hundred and eighty seconds, thereabouts, it took for a man to suffocate. When the guy was still, Kade reached down and picked up the dropped knife. It wasn’t a bad piece. Flipping the blade closed, he pocketed it and got in his car.

As he drove away, the anger and rage ebbed, replaced by the familiar tide of despair. It was an odd realization to come to and it only took Kade as long as the drive back to his office to figure it out. So long as he was inflicting pain and death, he didn’t feel the pain of missing her. And it had felt good to not feel so fucking bad for even a little while.

Well. Problem solved. Because if there was one thing Kade could do, it was kill people. And as a bonus, it also paid well.

Once word got out that Kade Dennon had come out of retirement and was back in the field, business started booming.

Kade fell back into the routine almost too easily. Take a job. Study the target. Plan the mission. Execute it. Doing it kept his mind busy. You had to be cold on the inside to look someone in the eye—someone for whom you had no personal animus, no grudge or hatred—and kill them. And with each new contract he fulfilled, that coldness grew larger and even more frigid.

He took jobs no one else would, because in the end, there’s nothing more deadly than an assassin with nothing to lose. Everything he’d almost had was already gone.

It was close to midnight in the part of the world he now inhabited, and the flat he was invading had a security system. Had being the operative word, as Kade had already disabled it.

In the past Kade had lived by a code of sorts, and it determined the contracts he’d taken. He’d choose only those jobs whose targets were already criminals, but for whom wealth or politics put them beyond the reach of traditional law enforcement.

Now he didn’t particularly care what the job was. The more dangerous, the better. Some might say Kade had a death wish. He’d say he was already dead.

A guard stayed with his current target in his flat, and Kade stepped over the guard’s now lifeless body while scanning the shadows for any further threats. The stairs were carpeted, which further muffled Kade’s already silent footsteps. The study was down the hall and to the right, which was where—as the past three nights of surveillance had shown—the target always was at this hour.

Kade slowly approached the doorway, a sliver of light leaking through the open crack. Reaching out, he pushed the door open.

Only to be faced with a gun.

His target was standing in front of a desk, gun in hand, and pointing it directly at Kade.

“I’ve been expecting someone to come,” he said.

“Well then, I’m glad I didn’t disappoint you,” Kade replied evenly.

“Toss your weapon on the floor,” the target ordered. Kade complied. “Now put your hands behind your head.”

Kade did as he was told while the man stepped back, carefully keeping an eye on Kade as he reached behind him for the phone on the desk. He dialed 999.

“You’re calling the cops?” Kade asked in disbelief as the man held the receiver to his ear. He rolled his eyes. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

The guy ignored him, reporting a break-in and requesting someone to come arrest the intruder.

“Just shoot me already,” Kade ordered in exasperation when the man hung up. “I am not going to fucking prison.”

“I don’t kill people if I don’t have to,” the man replied evenly.

Just then, a second guard came barreling down the hallway. He must’ve found his buddy’s body, Kade mused. It was enough to send the guy into full alert mode, which turned out to be too bad for him when he ran through the doorway.

Kade was ready, turning and yanking the guy by his gun arm and jerking him off-balance. He stumbled and Kade pulled his body in front of his own, using him as a shield for when the target reflexively fired his gun. Two shots rang out before the target realized he was shooting his own guy, the body in front of Kade jerking from the impact. The target looked stunned as the blood began flowing. Kade grabbed the guard’s hand, which still held a weapon, fitted his index finger over the one already on the trigger, raised the arm, and fired. The target went down. Kade dropped the guard’s body.

The whole thing had taken less than five seconds.

Stepping over the body, Kade approached the man who he’d shot in the chest. He stood over him, trying to feel something as he watched the blood pulsing from the open wound in time with the man’s heartbeat. All he could feel was a chilly detachment.

“Should’ve killed me when you had the chance,” Kade mused. It was too bad, really. It could’ve been his body on the floor instead of the guard’s.

The thought didn’t cause so much as a flicker of concern or fear, only a somewhat tired resignation.

The man didn’t respond, and a moment later, he couldn’t. He was dead.

Police sirens wailed and Kade decided the window would have to do tonight. Luckily, the building connected to another, which led to a fire escape that took him back down to street level. Three hours later, he was on a plane and out of the country.

The next job took him to the West Coast and a home that overlooked the Pacific Ocean. The place had cost millions and had top-of-the-line security. It was a fool’s mission to try an all-out assault on the place, which was guarded like a fortress. But Kade didn’t try to get to the house. He only had to wait until the target came to him.

The target had a weakness: sailing. If weather conditions were just right, he’d drop everything on his schedule and take the small sailboat he owned out onto the water. Despite all his security, it seemed he liked being alone for this one activity. Which was perfect.

Kade penetrated the lax security on the sailboat and hid below deck. Then he waited. According to weather reports, tomorrow morning had an eighty-five percent chance of having ideal sailing weather.

Sleep wasn’t an option, not while Kade was on a mission, so he didn’t. Not that he was a big fan anymore of sleeping. It seemed he could control his waking thoughts much more than he could his subconscious. Nightmares plagued him, of Kathleen, of something happening to her, of what she’d say if she knew what he’d become. The look on her face as Kade confessed his countless sins. Horror, followed by disgust, then loathing.

In his nightmares, he begged her forgiveness, but before she could answer him, before she could absolve or condemn him, the blood began to flow. Wounds that had no source appeared on her flawless skin, slashes of crimson cutting her to shreds. Kade watched in helpless terror as Kathleen screamed, writhing in pain as blood seeped from her body, until the sounds she made faded into silence and her blue eyes stared into his, unseeing and lifeless. Only then did he see the knife in his hand, stained and warm with her blood, and realize . . . he had killed her. Horrified, he dropped the knife, only then seeing her blood coating his hands. Pulling his gun from its holster, he stuck the barrel in his mouth and pulled the trigger—

Kade woke with a start, a cold sweat sticky on his skin. He’d fallen asleep after all. Then he heard the sound that had woken him. Sounds above deck. The target was here. Fuck.

More rattled than he wanted to admit, Kade scrambled, grabbing the gun and silencer at his side and checking to make sure it was loaded and ready to fire. Getting to his feet, he crouched in the corner, behind the stairs that led up to the deck. All he had to do was wait until they were far enough from shore to prevent assistance and mask the gunshot, but not so far that he couldn’t swim back.

It didn’t take long, maybe twenty minutes, before the rocking of the boat signaled Kade they were well underway. He took a deep breath, finding it hard to remove Kathleen’s image from behind his eyes every time he blinked.

A moment later, he was up the ladder, observing the shore and gauging the distance. He’d timed it just right. What he hadn’t counted on was that the target would have chosen today, of all days, to bring along his daughter.

Kade stood, gun raised and aimed, as he watched the man and the girl freeze in place at the sight of him. Neither of them moved, shock and fear rooting them in place.

They were too close together, the girl and her father. He’d been showing her something, something to do with the workings of the boat. Kade didn’t have a clear shot.

She was young, maybe nine years old, ten? Her hair was long and reddish-blonde, pulled back into a braid that hung far down her back. But it was her eyes that Kade couldn’t look away from. They were as clear blue as a warm summer sky. The kind of blue he now only saw in his dreams.

After a charged moment in which Kade didn’t speak or move, the father said, “Please. Just let her go down below.” His throat moved as he swallowed. “Please.”

The girl’s eyes were filled with terror as she stared at Kade, her hands gripping her father’s shirt in tight little fists.

Kade’s voice wouldn’t work, so he just gave a jerky nod.

“Sweetheart,” the father said, keeping his eyes warily on Kade, “I need you to go down below for a while. And don’t come up. No matter what you hear.”

Tears welled in the girl’s eyes and began pouring down her cheeks. “No, Daddy!” She clutched tighter at him.

Kade couldn’t breathe.

The man began relentlessly removing her hands from him. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he said, his voice almost preternaturally calm. “It’ll be okay. Just do as I say.”

The child threw her arms around the man’s waist, burying her face against his shirt. “Please don’t leave me!” she sobbed, her plaintive cry audible even over the wind.

Kade’s hand began to shake.

The man, alarmed now, shifted the girl so she was behind him, moving his body to shield hers. “I don’t want her to see,” he choked out. “Please. I don’t want her to see me die.”

The girl peered around her dad. The wind had freed some of her hair from the tight braid and the loose strands whipped around her face. Her eyes were accusing as she stared at Kade, the man who would take her father from her.

Which left Kade only one choice. In a quick motion, he turned and dove into the crashing waves.

Kade lay gasping on the beach, wet sand coating his hands and wetsuit. He’d swum far and away from the boat, putting as much distance between him and them as possible, which had taken him into rougher waters. It had consumed all his energy just to drag himself onto this deserted shore.

He flopped over onto his back, staring up at the nearly clear sky dotted with puffy clouds.

Maybe he shouldn’t have swum so hard. It would’ve been easy to just . . . stop, and let the ocean take him down to her depths. It was peaceful there, under the water. Peace, that elusive state of being that Kade had only experienced a handful of times.

He remembered the first time, in a fleabag motel room on the outskirts of Chicago, with a woman who seemed to want nothing from him—but to be safe.

Kathleen.

Kade had been alone for so long, worked alone for so long, that he’d forgotten what a woman’s touch felt like when it wasn’t all about sex. Kathleen had seemed to actually . . . care, which had shocked the hell out of him. When women saw him, they wanted one thing—a walk on the wild side, preferably naked. And that had been fine with Kade, for a really long time. And then it wasn’t.

Kade closed his eyes, remembering how it had felt to rest his head in her soft lap, feel the slow slide of her fingers through his hair in a touch intended to comfort, not arouse.

Peace.

It had taken him a few moments to recognize the feeling, and when he had, he’d been bone-deep grateful for it.

Now it was gone, and Kade knew with a certainty beyond all doubt that he would never find it again. So that left one question.

What was the point?

He’d broken the heart of the woman he loved, left her to raise his child without him. Blane had been right. Kade was no better than the man who’d fathered him. He’d repaid Blane’s love and acceptance by stealing his girl, then dumped her back on him as if she were garbage.

No one hated Kade more than he hated himself. There was nothing redeeming about him, nothing good or decent in his character. And no one would miss him when he was gone.

Kade lifted his hand, the sun glinting off the metal of the gun he held. He watched his hand move as though it belonged to a different person. The cold barrel pressed against his temple. It would be so quick, take such little effort, to pull the trigger.

He couldn’t do this anymore. He realized that now. The answer to the question was: There was no fucking point. Not without her. It was only a matter of time before he stopped swimming . . . and sank.

But before he did that, he wanted to see her—had to see her—just one more time.

Kade lowered his hand.

Now he had a purpose, and he automatically went through the motions of ditching his weapon and his wet clothes, removing all traces of his presence in California before heading to the airport. His flight to Boston would leave in thirty minutes. Instead of heading to the gate, he found a ticketing agent.

“Can I help you?” she asked, her tone contrasting sharply with her question. Then she looked up from the computer, surprise etching her features when she saw Kade. She smiled, her gaze taking him in. “What can I do for you?” This time, her question was far more friendly.

Kade paused, then asked, “When’s your next flight to Indianapolis?” Which is how he found himself sitting in first class on a flight headed to the one place he shouldn’t go.

With the takeoff came lucidity and rational thought.

What the hell was he doing?

He’d left. Left her. Now he was going to . . . what? Just show up? She was with Blane. He’d take care of her, protect her. Kade wasn’t needed or wanted.

But he had to say goodbye.

He was sitting alone in first class, finishing his third drink, when the flight attendant came by to tell him they would be landing soon.

Excitement and dread churned along with the vodka in his stomach. Kade couldn’t help the feeling of anticipation, of getting to see her again, but he also knew it was going to be like salt on an open wound. She’d be angry, he knew that, which would help. But leaving her this time would be permanent. Maybe she’d forgive him? He’d like to take that to his grave rather than her enmity and disgust.

It was late in the evening by the time Kade showed up at Kathleen’s. He’d gone by his apartment first, replenishing his duffel bag with clothes and taking a final look at the place. He wouldn’t be back.

Now he sat in the parking lot of Kathleen’s run-down apartment building, staring up at her darkened windows. She wasn’t home. Maybe she was working.

The thought made his gut tighten. He’d given her enough money, she shouldn’t have to work, much less at a job that meant she had to be half naked and pour booze for too many ogling assholes.

He’d wait for her, Kade decided, finally getting out of the car. A quick goodbye at The Drop was not how he wanted her to remember him.

In a few moments, he was inside her apartment. He didn’t turn on any lights, letting his eyes adjust to the dim glow of the streetlamps filtering in through the open blinds.

Instantly, he sensed something was off. The smell was slightly musty, like the windows hadn’t been opened in a while and the AC was set too high to keep the air circulating. And where was Tigger? The cat had always hurried to greet him when he came through the door, acting more like a dog than a feline should. But there was no sign of him.

Kade moved with purpose now, heading back to the bedroom. He flicked on the light, then pulled open the closet door.

Most of her clothes were gone.

It was like a punch to the gut.

She’d gone, moved out. Most likely moved in with Blane.

Kade should be glad. His plan had worked. She’d be safe. Their child would be safe. So why did he feel like every breath he took was an effort, each heartbeat now counting against an imaginary clock inside his head?

He sucked in a lungful of air on a choked gasp, not realizing he’d been holding his breath. Backing away from the closet, he stood, staring at the empty space around him. He saw her personal things were gone, too. Pictures of her parents that had been displayed on her bureau, knickknacks she’d set on her bedside table, the books that had been stacked in the corner.

Kade’s eyes stung. Holy shit, he would absolutely not cry. No fucking way. Kade Dennon did not fucking cry.

And yet his vision grew more blurry, until he couldn’t swallow past the growing lump in his throat.

With a roar of pure rage, Kade turned and slammed his fist through the drywall, the thin Sheetrock crumbling at the unexpected onslaught. Pain exploded in his hand and coursed up his arm, but Kade didn’t feel it. The anger burned away all other feelings, emotions he had no desire to deal with.

Pulling his hand from the hole in the wall—there went Kathleen’s security deposit—Kade flexed his fingers, realizing with a distant surprise that he hadn’t broken anything. The anger was leaching away, leaving a calm detachment in its wake. She was at Blane’s. So that’s where he’d go.

In the car on the way to Blane’s, Kade tried not to think of how his last meeting with his brother had gone. Chances were pretty good that Blane wouldn’t let him past the front door, much less in to say goodbye to Kathleen. Not after the things Kade had said last time . . .

Deciding not to give Blane the opportunity to refuse him admittance, Kade went around back. He was a little surprised that his key still worked. For some reason, he’d assumed Blane would have changed the locks by now, for precisely this reason.

The temptation to just head upstairs and see if he could catch Kathleen alone was strong, and Kade hesitated at the stairway. But it felt wrong to sneak behind Blane’s back. She was his now, and despite the chilly reception Kade was sure to receive, he owed it to Blane to show his face.

Light shone around the doorway to the den, proof that Blane was inside and maybe Kathleen as well. Kade reached for the handle, noticing a fine tremor of his hand. Taking a deep breath, he slowly opened the door.

He’d been half right. Blane was in there, seated at his desk, but not Kathleen. A sharp sting of disappointment pricked Kade.

Blane looked up and his eyes narrowed as his gaze took in Kade, who hadn’t moved from the doorway.

Neither spoke. After a moment, Blane pushed back his chair and came striding around the desk. Kade stiffened his spine, bracing himself for another tussle with his brother. Not that he wanted to fight back. Actually, Kade decided that if Blane wanted to beat the shit out of him, he wouldn’t lift a finger to stop him.

Blane’s face was unreadable as he approached, then to Kade’s utter disbelief, his brother threw his arms around him, jerking him close and hugging him so tight it constricted the air in his lungs.

“Thank God,” Blane murmured. “Thank God you’re all right.”

Shock left Kade speechless and he just stood there. Blane and he didn’t hug. Ever. They just . . . didn’t. Blane had learned early on that Kade was averse to close physical contact and he’d never forgotten it. But now, at this moment when Kade had expected the exact opposite response from Blane, he lifted his arms to hug Blane in return. His hand awkwardly gave a rough pat to Blane’s back before he could no longer stop the compulsion to pull away. Blane released him, but seemed reluctant to do so.

Blane took a step back and Kade finally spoke. “I must say, that wasn’t quite the welcome I expected.” His voice was rougher than usual.

“I haven’t been able to reach you since you left nearly a month ago,” Blane said. “I’ve been going out of my mind with worry. Your phone’s disconnected, you don’t answer your e-mail. What the hell, Kade?”

“Had to go off the grid for a while,” Kade said evasively.

“I’m hoping you’ve come to your senses and are done acting like a fucking prick,” Blane said. “But for now, I’ll just settle for the fact that you’re alive and you’re here.”

“I thought I wasn’t your brother anymore,” Kade retorted, remembering just how deeply those words had cut.

“I was really pissed,” Blane admitted. “Then I had some time to think about it and realized how freaked out you must’ve been. I know we don’t spill our guts to each other, but I’d like to think the Kade I know wouldn’t walk out on the woman he loves, especially not when she’s carrying his child.”

Shame crept through Kade, along with a burning desire to tell Blane the truth. But he couldn’t, so he kept his mouth shut.

“Am I right? Please tell me that’s why you’re here.”

Kade swallowed, then gave a minute shake of his head. “I came to say goodbye. Hoped you’d let me tell her goodbye.”

Blane frowned. “What?”

“I didn’t get to, and I’d like to. I’m . . . going away, and this time I won’t be back.”

“Going away? Where the hell are you going?”

Kade shrugged. Unable to meet Blane’s eyes, he gazed instead over his brother’s shoulder. “Just . . . away.”

Blane’s face paled as realization appeared to seep in. His jaw locked. “Oh no, you’re not,” he said. “I don’t care if I have to lock you up in the goddamn basement, you’re not leaving here. Not until you tell me what the fuck is going on.”

“Where’s Kathleen?” Kade asked instead. “Is she upstairs?” He glanced over his shoulder, already inching out the door. The burning need to see her had increased a hundredfold since he’d set foot in Indy.

“She’s not here,” Blane said, his voice stiff.

“Oh,” Kade said, disappointed yet again. “Will she come here after work or will she go to her apartment?”

“She’s not at work, either, Kade,” Blane replied, tiredly shoving a hand through his hair. “I don’t know where she is.”

Now it was Kade’s turn to be confused. “What are you talking about?”

“We’re not together,” Blane said baldly. “She loves you, not me, and nothing I said or did was enough to change her mind.”

It was the second time that night that Kade had been struck speechless, which had to be a record.

“But . . . I saw you,” he said at last. “That night. I saw you go to her apartment. Then she left, heading here.”

Blane’s eyes narrowed. “If I’d known you were hiding in the bushes like a fucking Peeping Tom, I’d have dragged your ass in there and made you break her heart yourself. She didn’t come here, Kade. She went to your place that night.”

“My place?”

“Yes, your place,” Blane repeated, pushing a finger hard into Kade’s chest. “Which is where I found her almost twenty-four hours later, practically catatonic.”

The accusation in Blane’s voice was hard to miss.

Now guilt warred with shame inside Kade, and underneath that, a hint of relief. Kathleen hadn’t forgotten about him. She hadn’t just wanted to be with him because of the baby. She really did love him.

“Where is she now?” he managed to ask. He had to see her, touch her. Then he had to be an utter dick to her and make her hate him, convince her to go back to Blane. The thought was a shard of ice in his gut.

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Blane said with exaggerated patience. “I don’t know. She left, over three weeks ago now, and didn’t tell anyone where she was going. She just vanished one night. I’ve tried her phone—it’s always turned off. I’ve left dozens of messages. I know she needed some space, but hell”—Blane shoved his hands in his pockets—“I hate not knowing where she is.”

Kade had stopped listening after “just vanished one night.” Panic struck, and struck hard.

“You let her go?” he asked, his voice loud.

Blane frowned. “I didn’t let her do anything,” he said. “She left, Kade. Short of keeping her a prisoner, what the hell was I supposed to do? I didn’t even know she was thinking of leaving. One day she was just . . . gone.”

Adrenaline poured through Kade in a cold rush. Where could she have gone? And that was assuming she’d gone of her own free will. What if Keaston had found out that she’d left Blane? He could have had her killed, her body dumped somewhere no one would find it.

He grabbed the neck of Blane’s shirt with both hands, the fabric crumpling in his fists as he hauled him close until they were nose to nose. “Did you tell Keaston?” he bit out, fury riding close on the heels of panic. “Did you?”

“I spoke to him yesterday,” Blane said, jerking out of Kade’s grip. “What’s going on? Kade, tell me.”

But Kade was already striding toward the front door, thinking. Keaston knew, but Kathleen had disappeared three weeks ago. The most important question was to make sure Kathleen had left of her own free will and hadn’t been kidnapped. If she’d been taken—

Kade couldn’t stand to finish that thought and he hit his car at a near run, vaulting behind the wheel and peeling out of the driveway in a squeal of tires and the smell of burning rubber. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he saw Blane standing in the driveway, watching.

It took thirty minutes to get from Blane’s house to Kathleen’s apartment. Kade made it in fifteen. He took the stairs two at a time. A frigid calm had settled over him in the wake of his earlier panic. He could find her. He would find her. It was what he did best, finding people who didn’t want to be found. And he knew just where to start.

Light suddenly poured through Alisha’s closed eyes, yanking her from a dead sleep, and she woke with a confused start. Her hand reached out to where Lewis was stretched beside her, also fast asleep, but he was no longer there.

“Looking for him?”

Alisha jerked around with a startled cry, automatically clutching the blankets to her chest. She was naked under the covers, but that was the furthest thought from her mind as she realized a man was standing in her bedroom.

His arm was around Lewis’s neck, imprisoning him in a choke hold. Terror clawed at Alisha, making her hands shake as she stared openmouthed. Blood oozed from a cut on Lewis’s cheek and his lower lip was split.

“What do you want?” Alisha asked. “I have money. I can get it for you. Just please, don’t hurt him!” Lewis’s eyes looked scared, and though he wasn’t much smaller than the intruder, he couldn’t escape his grip no matter how hard he struggled.

“I don’t want your money,” the guy said, causing Alisha to tear her gaze from Lewis and focus on him. “Where’s Kathleen?”

And suddenly, it clicked. “Oh my God,” Alisha breathed in shock. “It’s you. Kade.”

“Bingo,” Kade said with a chilly smile. “Bet Kathleen never told you what I did for a living, did she.”

Alisha felt the blood drain from her face. No, Kathleen hadn’t. Looking at Kade now, it was pretty obvious what he did for a living. He wore black on black, a black shirt and black jeans. The ease with which he held Lewis immobile spoke of long practice.

Suddenly, he let Lewis go, only to spin him around and hit him with two punishing blows. The sound of flesh against bone was loud in the room. Lewis grunted in pain and Alisha screamed. Kade grabbed Lewis’s shoulders, shoving him down just as his knee came up. Lewis’s head snapped back at the impact, then Kade shoved and Lewis fell to the floor.

Alisha flew out of the bed, but froze at the sound of the slide being racked on a gun.

“I wouldn’t move,” Kade ordered. “Take one more step and you’ll be looking for a new boyfriend.”

Tears leaked from Alisha’s eyes, but she did as he said. Looking up, she swallowed hard at the sight of the gun held steady in Kade’s grip.

“I was on your side,” she ground out through clenched teeth. “I’ve been telling Kathleen to ditch Blane for weeks, that you were the one she should be with, you sonofabitch!”

“Where is she?”

“You’re insane if you think I’m going to tell you,” she seethed.

“You’re right there, sweetheart. Right now, I feel fucking insane. And if you don’t tell me where Kathleen is, I’ve got no problem pulling this trigger.”

Lewis looked up at her, pain creasing his features. Alisha looked back to Kade. He wasn’t kidding. His eyes were like blue shards of ice, completely devoid of emotion. He held a man’s life in his hands, yet could have been watching paint dry for as much as he seemed to care. The effect was chilling and sent another wave of fear through Alisha.

What would he do if he found Kathleen? Would he hurt her? She was pregnant—surely he wouldn’t. And yet, from the looks of him just then, there was nothing to say that wasn’t exactly what he’d do.

“I’m not telling you,” she said, her voice shaking.

“Really?” Kade asked, cocking his head to the side as though she’d just said she preferred fish to chicken.

The gunshot was loud. Alisha screamed, falling to her knees next to Lewis.

“That was a shoulder. Easy in, easy out, no permanent damage done,” Kade said. “I can’t say the same for the next one. Now . . . tell me where she is!” His voice rose until he shouted the question at her.

Alisha was sobbing as she pulled Lewis’s head onto her lap. Blood oozed from his shoulder, and he was passed out cold. Pressing her hand against the wound, she hissed through her tears, “Go to hell!” Expecting retaliation, she bent over Lewis, trying to shield him with her body the best she could.

“Kade!”

The voice was familiar and Alisha jerked around to see Blane enter the room.

“Kade, for God’s sake!” Blane exclaimed, hurrying to where Alisha knelt beside Lewis. “What the hell are you doing?” he practically screamed at Kade.

Kade ignored Blane, his hard gaze focused on Alisha. “Where’s Kathleen.” It wasn’t a question anymore. It was a statement of his intentions if she didn’t answer.

“Kade, we’ll find her,” Blane interjected. “You don’t have to do this.”

“Tell me now,” Kade said. “You have three seconds.”

“I-I don’t know. I swear I don’t—” Alisha babbled, panic twisting inside her belly.

“Kade, stop!”

“One . . .”

“Please, no—”

Blane pulled a gun from the back of his jeans and pointed it at Kade.

“This has to stop. Kade—listen to me!”

“Two . . .”

Alisha couldn’t breathe. “I don’t know. I don’t know! I—”

“Kade!”

But Kade didn’t even look in Blane’s direction, and his gun was steady and pointed at Lewis, who lay unconscious and bleeding on the floor, and Blane was going to shoot Kade, but Kade was going to shoot Lewis, and—

“She went home!” Alisha’s scream cut through everything and silence fell.

Kade slowly lowered his gun.

“Sh-she went home,” Alisha repeated, closing her eyes in dismay as she realized she’d just given up her best friend’s whereabouts to a madman.

“Now that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Kade said.

“I swear to God, Kade, I’m going to fucking kill you,” Blane threatened. His gun was lowered, too, but his body language screamed anger.

“If I don’t find her soon, she’ll be dead when we do,” Kade said, causing Alisha to jerk her head up in alarm.

“What? Who’s after her? Kade, what’s going on?” Blane’s frustrated questions echoed in the room, but Kade was already turning to go.

“You shouldn’t have let her leave,” Kade said. “You were the only thing keeping her safe.” Then he was gone.

“Goddammit!” Blane exploded.

Alisha could tell he really wanted to go after Kade, but he turned back to her instead. “I’ll call 911,” he said, guiding her hand to the wound in Lewis’s shoulder. “Keep pressure on the wound. And, I’m really sorry about this, but we have to get our stories straight. My brother was never here, understood? It was an intruder, but it was dark and you didn’t get a good look at him. He shot Lewis, but I was at Kathleen’s and heard, so I came over and he took off. Got it?”

Her entire body was racked with tremors, and the relief Alisha had felt when Kade left faded. Blane’s eyes held the same cold implacability she’d seen in Kade’s. She realized she had no choice. She’d have to do what Blane said, say what he told her to say, because the price for not doing so would be one she wasn’t willing to pay.

And Alisha finally saw the resemblance between the two men.