Point of No Return

CHAPTER NINETEEN

Mona and Gerard were overjoyed to see Kade and me once we returned to Indy. Blane was in Washington, and it seemed Alisha had been right—word all over the news was that he was a shoo-in for the senate appointment. Kade and I told Mona and Gerard about the baby, and Mona got tears in her eyes, hugging me so tight and so long she nearly brought me to tears, too. They insisted on us staying for dinner, which was why we were still at Blane’s house late into the evening.

“We should probably go,” I said, turning to look up at Kade from where I lay on the couch, my head in his lap. Tigger readjusted his position lying across my legs. “Mona and Gerard left a while ago.” He took another drink of the scotch in the glass he held, his other hand resting on my stomach. I smothered a yawn.

“My place is still shut down,” he said. “I need to get the utilities turned back on. We can stay here or get a hotel, if you’d rather.”

I grimaced. “You really think I trust you to pick a hotel that won’t give me hives?”

Kade shook his head. “Such a princess,” he said, trying to hide a smile.

“You know,” I said, a sudden thought occurring to me, “you’ve never actually shown me your room here.” I’d seen him disappear into it many times, but I’d never been inside. “Does it still have all your high school stuff?” I’d pay serious cash to go through Kade Dennon’s yearbooks.

“All that crap is buried in a box somewhere in the closet,” he said, finishing his drink.

I climbed off his lap and stood. Tigger jumped to the floor, disgruntled. “I wanna see,” I said. “Show me?”

Kade cocked an eyebrow at me, but he stood and took my hand. He led me upstairs, only this time I didn’t go to my room, nor did I head for Blane’s at the end of the hall. Kade stopped in front of the door to his room and opened it.

I followed him inside, curiosity raging. I wanted to know more about who Kade was, what he’d been like when he was young.

Kade stood to the side, watching me as I looked around. The room was larger than mine, though not as big as Blane’s. Like in mine, the walls were painted in a mural, only the theme was . . .

“Cowboys and Indians?” I asked.

“Frederic Remington,” Kade clarified. “Famous American painter. He specialized in depictions of the Old West. I think Blane told me his mother hired someone to duplicate a few of his pieces as a mural in here.”

It was beautifully done, the figures of men on horses captured in such a way that they appeared to be moving. The landscape showed both the beauty and desolation of the American West. I spent several minutes moving around the room, inching along the walls to see the entire mural.

When I turned back to Kade, he was still watching me. He wore his typical dark jeans and black button-down shirt, left untucked and with one too many buttons undone in the front. He was the only man I’d ever seen who could get away with that and not look sleazy. His hair was black as night, a lock falling over his forehead, and his eyes were piercing blue beneath thick, dark lashes. His cuffs were turned back several times and my eyes caught on his hands—large, strong, capable. His forearms were marked by the trace of veins just under the skin, evidence of hours pumping iron.

“I love when you look at me like that,” Kade said, his voice a low murmur.

Startled, I jerked my gaze back up to his face. “Like what?” I asked innocently.

Kade moved closer. “Like you want to rip my clothes off and have your way with me,” he teased, reaching out to wrap a lock of my hair around his finger.

“Your ego is imagining things,” I said loftily, moving out of his reach. “And I’m still exploring.”

“Can you explore naked?” Kade asked, settling onto the bed. He leaned against the headboard and bent his arms to lock his hands behind his head, his legs crossed negligently at the ankles.

I gave him a look but he just smirked, completely unrepentant.

The bed was similar to the one in his apartment only not as big, queen-size rather than a king, the frame a heavy, dark oak. There was a matching desk in the corner with computer equipment on it, which even to a nontechie like me had to be at least a decade old. It must have been what Kade had used in high school or college and I found myself drifting toward it. The keyboard was so well used that the letters were nearly worn off. My fingers traced the keys as I pictured Kade sitting there years ago, typing.

“So . . .” I said slowly as I explored, “tell me about the first time you . . . you know.” I deliberately didn’t look at him. I was embarrassed but too curious not to ask.

“The first time I what?” Kade asked.

“The first time you . . . you know . . . your first time,” I tried to clarify, glancing over at him now.

His eyebrows climbed. “You want to hear about the first time I had sex?”

My cheeks were burning, but I nodded. “I’m curious,” I said defensively.

Kade shook his head. “You know these conversations never end well.”

“Tell me,” I insisted.

He shrugged. “It wasn’t a big deal. I was fifteen. She was my fifth-period algebra teacher.”

My jaw dropped. “You’re joking,” I said in disbelief. Kade just smirked at me. “You had sex with your teacher?”

“Ms. Thompson,” he said. “And before you go thinking it was a long-term thing, it wasn’t. She had a thing for me and I took advantage of that.” He waggled his eyebrows.

Wow. I didn’t even know what to say. I shook my head and went back to exploring the room.

Two framed photos peeked out from a couple of shelves, likely put there by Mona, I figured. Both were of Blane and Kade together. One looked to have been taken when Kade was really young. I picked up the photo to examine it more closely. Kade looked thin, almost scrawny, in clothes that were too big. He wasn’t smiling as he and Blane posed for the picture, his lips twisted in the poor parody of a smile I’d seen on him too many times. Though he and Blane stood close, they did not touch.

“When was this taken?” I asked, moving to sit next to him on the bed. Kade glanced at the photo.

“About a month after Blane assumed guardianship of me,” he replied. “I wasn’t exactly warm and fuzzy.”

“What was it like?” I asked. “When Blane came for you and you first started getting to know each other. Was it hard?”

Kade hesitated. “I didn’t know what his agenda was,” he said. “Why he’d take me to live with him. In walks this guy who looks like he just stepped off the pages of GQ and he tells me we’re brothers and he’s taking me home.” He paused. “It was too much for me to believe it was real, and it took a long time and a lot of patience and persistence on Blane’s part for me to trust him.”

“So what made you decide to trust him?” I asked. “Did it just take time or did something happen?”

“He almost got himself killed because of me,” Kade answered, “and he didn’t have to. He could’ve just let it go, let me go, but he didn’t.”

Kade didn’t offer any more to the story and I didn’t ask, only nodded. I wasn’t surprised. Blane was a good man. I looked back down at the picture. “So why don’t you two hug more?” I asked idly, my thoughts still dwelling on what Blane had gone through to reach Kade.

“I don’t like guys touching me.”

Kade’s answer surprised me, as was the vehemence with which he’d said it, and I glanced up at him. His expression was utterly blank.

“It’s creepy,” he added with a dismissive shrug.

And I suddenly realized what Kade would probably never tell me, what had most likely happened to him when he was young that had made him so averse to men touching him.

I felt the blood leave my face and I looked away, hurriedly standing to replace the picture on the shelf, my hands trembling slightly. Tears blurred my vision and I quickly blinked them back. I knew Kade. Any sign of pity would not be welcome, nor would he want to know that I’d guessed what he hadn’t said.

I bought some time to regain my composure by drifting around the room some more, studying knickknacks here and there, probably placed by Mona, and a stack of magazines. I smiled a little. Some men might have a pile of Playboys; Kade had a hoard of techie publications.

“I’m hungry,” Kade said, getting up. “You want anything?”

I shook my head. “No, I’m good. I think I’ll just take a shower.”

Kade nodded and headed out the door. I walked into the bathroom attached to his bedroom and stripped.

I took my time, trying not to think about Kade as a little kid because when I did, I started crying. Breathing deeply, I pushed away the images my mind drew, instead focusing on the present. I was Kade’s future, as was the baby I carried. The past was the past and there was nothing I could do to change it. All I could do was love Kade and build a life for us together.

When I emerged from the bathroom, Kade still hadn’t returned. I tightened the towel around me, wondering if our conversation had upset him more than he’d let on. I opened the bedroom door and stepped into the darkened hallway.

“There you are.”

I spun around, a startled cry on my lips, and I recognized the man who stood there immediately.

James.

He thrust his hand at me, something hard in his grip, and pain arced through my body. Then I knew nothing.

My eyes fluttered open, a headache pounding in my skull. I slowly became aware that I couldn’t move my arms or legs.

“Waking up, I see.”

I focused my eyes with effort. James stood over me looking more unkempt than I’d ever seen him. Two days of beard growth shadowed his jaw, and he wore a wrinkled shirt and slacks. His hair was rumpled and he looked like he hadn’t slept in a while.

“What are you doing?” I asked. I raised my head and saw that I was naked, my towel gone, and that James had tied me spread-eagled to Blane’s bed. The sharp tang of fear rose in the back of my throat.

“Did you think I was gone for good?” James asked, his calm voice belying the wild look in his eyes. “Or were you too busy fucking Dennon while Kirk’s out of town to bother thinking about me?”

That’s when I caught sight of Kade and my breath left me in a rush. James had duct-taped him to a chair. He was unconscious, his head lolling on his chest, a gag in his mouth. At least, I prayed he was unconscious. If he was dead, I reasoned, James wouldn’t have bothered restraining him.

“I’ve lost everything,” James continued. “But you know that, don’t you. Now that Kirk’s going to slide into a senate seat, everyone’s scrutinizing how I pushed for his arrest in Kandi’s murder.” He swallowed. “I’ve been forced to resign. My career’s over.”

“I didn’t have anything to do with that,” I said, desperately trying to reason with him. “Why are you doing this to me?”

James started unbuttoning his shirt. “You could say I’ve had an epiphany,” he said, his gaze unblinking as he stared at me. “Ever since I met you, my life has gone to shit.” He tugged the shirt off and dropped it to the floor.

I shook my head. “I didn’t do anything to you, James.”

“And I realized,” he continued as though he hadn’t even heard me, “that all this time, you were trying to keep me from a dark path, the path I was on. Only I was too stupid to see it. Just like Dennon. That’s why he keeps you with him. To save himself from the demons inside his head. The same demons inside me.”

A noise made me jerk my head toward Kade and I saw with a sinking knot in my gut that he was awake. His eyes blazed with rage as he stared at James, every muscle in his body straining against the bonds that held him. But even as I prayed he’d be able to save me, I knew that there was no way Kade would be able to break free. No one could.

James was looking at Kade, too, then to my horror, walked over and punched him. Kade’s head snapped back from the force of the blow, but his eyes were no less filled with fury as he looked back at James. James hauled back and hit him again and blood spurted from Kade’s nose.

“Stop! James, please!” I cried out. I couldn’t stand watching him hurt Kade.

James turned to look at me.

“Please,” I begged. “Don’t hurt him any more.”

He seemed to consider this, then glanced back at Kade. “He killed my father,” he said. “He should be punished for that.” His fist clenched like he was going to hit Kade again.

“Your father tried to kill me,” I said quickly. “He wasn’t a good man, James.”

After a moment and to my relief, James turned away from Kade and walked back over to me. “You’re right,” he said. “I should listen to you.” He reached out and I flinched as he drew his fingers through my damp hair.

“How could I not have known?” James said, his words so quiet it seemed he was talking to himself more than me. “You’re beautiful, an angel. How could I not have seen that you were sent to save me, just like you saved Kirk?”

His words were crazy, as was the way he was looking at me, his gaze drifting from my face down my body. Fear sent a dose of cold adrenaline through my veins.

James unbuttoned his pants, then continued shedding his clothes until he was naked. I dared not look at Kade again and tears leaked from my eyes to trail down the sides of my face, wetting the bedding underneath my head. Was James going to rape me? Kill me? All while Kade watched?

The horror of it made me nearly pass out, which I knew wouldn’t help me at all. I squeezed my eyes shut and took a deep, shuddering breath. I would survive. I had to. For Kade’s and the baby’s sakes. I had no doubt that if James killed me, Kade would be utterly lost to the darkness inside him.

When I opened my eyes, James was naked and holding a revolver.

“Put the gun away, James,” I said, my eyes wide. “I’ll do whatever you want. Just put the gun down.”

He ignored me, emptying the chamber of bullets. I watched in confusion and saw him put one bullet back in, then spin the chamber and lock it in place.

“Me and you,” he said, kneeling next to me on the bed. “We kept coming together like magnets. You see the scar you gave me?” He indicated the long white line on his chest. “It’s your brand on my skin, forever marking me as yours.”

James reached out, his touch almost reverent as his fingers trailed from my cheek and down my neck to between my breasts.

“I still see the mark I gave you,” he mused, tracing the faint outline of the J he’d carved into my skin. “See? We’re tied together in blood.” He flattened his palm over the mark.

I swallowed. “What are you doing, James?”

Reaching for the table, James picked up a knife he must’ve placed there. My heart rate must have tripled, but he didn’t turn the knife on me. Instead, he held up his arm and drew a long cut from his wrist to his elbow. Blood began flowing and he held the cut over me. The thick, warm fluid dripped onto my stomach and chest. James was saying something, murmuring words I couldn’t hear or understand, and his eyes drifted out of focus.

“I don’t understand what you’re doing,” I said helplessly, trying to stay calm, which was becoming more and more difficult.

James brandished the gun. “One bullet. Fate determines who dies.”

Noise erupted again from Kade’s chair as he fought the bonds and gag. James jerked toward him, his eyes narrowing dangerously, and I panicked.

“James,” I said, then had to repeat, “James, look at me.” I had to keep his attention from Kade, which wouldn’t be easy if Kade kept it up. “James!”

He finally looked down at me.

“Dennon first,” he said, and before I could say anything to stop him, he pointed the gun at Kade and pulled the trigger.

“No!” I screamed, but the click of the hammer falling on an empty chamber chased my cry.

Kade’s face was like granite as he stared at James, his eyes promising death.

Relief that James hadn’t killed Kade was followed by more fear as he turned the gun on me.

“Your turn,” he said.

Kade was yelling around the gag, but James ignored him, his entire focus on me. He placed the barrel of the gun between my breasts, then drew it down through the blood he’d spilled on my skin.

“Don’t do this, James,” I said. “You don’t want to hurt me. I’m your angel, remember?” I was babbling, trying to figure out anything I could say that would end this nightmare.

James’s finger tightened on the trigger and my muscles tensed, as though I was bracing myself. I squeezed my eyes shut.

Another click of an empty chamber.

My breath let out in a loud gasp and I snapped my eyes open. James looked pleased.

He reached out again, and I had to steel my resolve as he began to touch me, his hand painting blood over my breasts and stomach. Bile rose in my throat and each second that passed felt like an eternity.

“You should untie me,” I managed to choke out. “So I can . . . touch you, too.”

But James just shook his head. “You’re an angel,” he murmured. “You’ll disappear if I untie you.” His words were nonsensical and I began to fear that he was on some kind of drug, which meant reasoning with him was going to be impossible.

“The last test,” he murmured.

My arms strained at the ties holding me as James reached for the knife again. To my surprise, he sliced through the bonds holding my wrists, then carelessly tossed the knife away. Grabbing the back of my neck, he pulled me up so our chests were pressed together. He placed his head alongside mine and held the muzzle of the gun to my ear.

“Decide our fate, angel,” he said. “I’ll pull the trigger and we’ll see if we die together, or not at all.”

The blood slickened our bodies and my ankles were still tied, preventing me from getting away. My hands were free now, but his hold was too tight, the muzzle of the gun pressed painfully hard against my head.

“Decide our fate,” he repeated. “Decide . . .”

He had already pulled the trigger twice. With a six-round chamber, my chances didn’t look good.

I didn’t want to die.

The sharp click of the hammer falling made me flinch, a whimper escaping from between my lips. Three pulls. Three empty chambers.

I had no idea why James had decided to free my arms, but now that I could move, a blood lust like I’d never felt before rose in me. He’d pulled that trigger one too many times. A haze of red filled my eyes as rage consumed me—and if I’d never before slept in Blane’s bed, I wouldn’t have known how to save myself.

Blane was an extremely cautious man who’d spent too much time in a war zone, sleeping in places that could go from relatively safe to highly dangerous in minutes. It was the ingrained SEAL in him that had made him hide a knife behind the center of the headboard. The first time I’d spotted it, he’d been up-front and unapologetic about why it was there, acknowledging that while it didn’t make a lot of sense outside a war zone, it helped him sleep better at night.

I reached up, my hand unerringly finding the knife and pulling it from its sheath. I didn’t hesitate, despite the gun still held to my head, and put all my strength into driving the blade down, straight into James’s chest.

James froze. His face was creased in lines of pain as he looked down at the knife protruding from his chest. His fingers seemed to go numb, the gun falling from his hand. I grabbed it, pointing it at him.

As he looked at me, his face cleared. “How can I hate you and love you at the same time?” he asked.

“You don’t love me,” I hissed. “You’re a monster. You don’t know what love is.”

Suddenly, Kade was there, beside me. I had no idea how he’d gotten free, but his hand settled over mine.

“Don’t kill him,” Kade said. “You can’t take something like that back. I’ll do it.”

“No,” I said, pushing his hand away. “He would’ve killed you, me, and our baby. He deserves to die.” Hatred coursed through my veins and I didn’t take my eyes off James.

“Yes, he does, but you don’t need to be the one to do it,” Kade insisted.

“In this case, yes, I do.”

James closed his eyes, raising his face heavenward. “I’m ready. Kill me, my angel.”

“Go to hell.” I pulled the trigger, the report of the one bullet left in the chamber reverberating through the room. The aim couldn’t be off, not this close, and the wound was dead center in his chest.

James’s body collapsed.

Kade lifted me bodily from the bed, holding me so tight I could barely breathe, but I didn’t mind. Shock was setting in and my skin felt ice-cold.

“How did you get free?” I asked, twisting to look at the chair he’d been taped to.

“James tossed that knife and it landed near me,” Kade said. “He hadn’t taped my legs, so I got bendy and managed to get the knife up to my hand.”

“I want the blood off,” I said.

It took three washings before I felt clean, Kade grabbing Blane’s robe and wrapping me in its depths once I was through.

“Come on,” he said, helping me from the room.

My gaze caught on James’s body lying on Blane’s bed, blood pooling underneath him, his sightless eyes staring. Never again would he be able to terrorize me or the ones I loved. I didn’t have an ounce of regret for killing him.

From the den, Kade called Chance. It took him less than fifteen minutes to get there, and he brought Lucy, too.

Lucy sat with me on the couch, holding my hand, while Kade took Chance upstairs and explained what had happened. The kitchen door had been the one James had broken in through, then hitting Kade with a stun gun before searching the house for me.

It took a couple of hours for Chance to call it in, the ME to come collect the body, and for Kade and me to give our statements. Chance looked grim as he took my statement, giving me a long hug when I was through.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” he said roughly, his eyes wet.

“Me too.”

Mona and Gerard came to see what the fuss was about, alarmed that the police had come to the house in the middle of the night. I kept things vague. No need for Mona to know the details of what had transpired in Blane’s bedroom. She made me a cup of tea, which helped warm me up.

I refused to go to the hospital. I was all right. Nothing damaged that wouldn’t heal. I just wanted to be alone with Kade. I kept looking at him as he handled the police and the questions and the paramedics.

James could so easily have killed Kade. I knew that if he had, I wouldn’t have been able to fight James off. I’d have made him keep pulling that trigger until both of us had a hole in our heads.

Finally, Kade was bundling me into his car. I think we both knew we didn’t want to stay at the house tonight. He drove us to a hotel, and not one that rented rooms by the hour.

The guy at the desk didn’t bat an eye at the robe I was wearing, and soon Kade had whisked me up the elevator. I wanted another shower—I still felt like James’s blood was on me. Kade set me gently on the bed in the suite before running a bath. He helped me into the steaming water, then sank to his knees on the floor next to the tub. His hands dipped into the water as he tenderly washed me, his touch so careful, as though he thought I would break apart.

Afterward, he lifted me from the tub, the water soaking his shirt, then patted my skin dry with a towel and wrapped a hotel robe around me. He carried me to the bed and tucked me against him as he sat with his back to the headboard. I noticed that his free hand, resting on the mattress, held a gun.

“Put that away,” I said quietly. “Rest with me.”

“I let down my guard once and look what happened,” Kade rasped. “I won’t let anything happen to you. I swear it.”

“It’s not your fault,” I said, twisting to look up at him. He glanced down at me and the pain and guilt I saw in his eyes made my heart hurt. “You couldn’t have known what James was going to do,” I continued. “He had a crazy fixation on me. You can’t predict crazy.”

“If he hadn’t emptied the gun of five bullets, you’d be dead right now.”

I sat up and took Kade’s face in my hands. “I refuse to let what happened tonight poison our lives,” I said. “James has taken away my peace of mind before, has hurt me before. None of it was your fault or your responsibility to prevent. He’s dead now. It’s over. Now I just want to forget.

“Only you can help me do that,” I said. “So stop blaming yourself. Put away the gun and hold me. I love you. You’re safe. I’m safe. The baby’s safe. That’s all I want to think about.”

To my relief, Kade reluctantly set aside the gun and wrapped both arms around me. It seemed we couldn’t get close enough, and even though I knew Kade would probably lie awake all night, I heaved a sigh of contentment and drifted to sleep almost immediately.

Morning had sunshine streaming in through the windows and I woke with a stretch. Amazingly enough, I wasn’t very sore. My ankles and wrists hurt, but other than that my body was okay. Surprisingly, I hadn’t had any nightmares. Maybe that had been because my subconscious knew James was dead and therefore no longer presented a threat, or maybe it was because I’d been with Kade, or maybe both, but my sleep had been peaceful.

I heard the low rumble of Kade’s voice and got out of bed. He’d nearly closed the French doors dividing the sitting room from the bedroom, leaving them open a scant inch. I realized he was talking to someone on the phone.

I brushed my teeth and used the bathroom, using my fingers to try and tame my hair, before I emerged from the bedroom. Kade glanced up from where he sat in an armchair, but kept talking.

“Yeah. It was close,” he said. “Too close. And you’re going to want to burn that bed. I never want to lay eyes on it again.”

I grimaced, then spotted the pot of coffee Kade must have ordered from room service. I poured myself a cup and listened to him talk.

“Chance took care of it,” Kade said. “And Gerard’s planning on fixing the door today.” He paused, listening. “Yeah, she’s right here. Hold on.” He held his cell phone out to me. “Blane wants to talk to you.”

I was suddenly nervous as I took the phone from him. Did Blane know everything that had happened the past few weeks? Had Kade told him we were married now?

“Hey,” I said softly.

“Kat,” Blane said, releasing a sigh, “Kade told me what happened. Jesus. I’m so sorry, Kat.”

“It’s not your fault,” I said. “Just like I told Kade. No one could have predicted he’d go so far off the deep end. I just want to forget it and move on.”

Blane was quiet for a moment. “Then I won’t mention it again, okay?”

“I’d appreciate that,” I replied. James was part of the past now.

Blane cleared his throat. “I hear congratulations are in order,” he said. “Kade told me you two made it official. Mrs. Kade Dennon.”

Hello, awkward. My stomach felt like I’d swallowed a ten-pound rock. “Um, yeah,” I said. “I . . . yeah, we did.”

“I’m really happy for you, Kat,” Blane said, and if I hadn’t known him so well, he might’ve fooled me.

“It’s okay not to be. You don’t have to lie,” I said, drifting to look out the window. “I understand.” After all, if things had worked out differently, I’d be Mrs. Blane Kirk instead. It was unspoken, but I could hear his thought as though he’d said it aloud.

We were both quiet for a moment.

“I, um, I hear you’ll probably replace the senator,” I said, changing the subject. “That’s really something. Congratulations.”

“Yes. Unexpected, but I think if it happens, I’ll accept the appointment.”

I wondered if he would have accepted it if he and I had still been together. “So you’ll be in Washington from now on,” I said, my heart sinking. “Not Indy.”

“For a while,” Blane said. “The session’s already begun, so it’ll probably be a few months before I make it home.”

“So by Christmas, you think?” I asked.

“Maybe,” he hedged. I didn’t push.

More silence, but I was loath to say goodbye. Finally, Blane spoke again.

“I love you,” he said, his voice roughened, “and I’m glad you’re okay, all three of you.”

“Me too,” I replied, my own voice hardly above a whisper.

Blane cleared his throat again. “Okay, well, tell Kade I’ll talk to him later.”

“Okay.”

“Take care of yourself. Take care of Kade.”

“I will. I promise.”

“Goodbye, Kat.”

“Bye, Blane.”

Then he was gone, the call ended. I stared blindly out the window and blinked back the tears.