Point of No Return

CHAPTER FOUR

I woke to the sound of someone knocking on my door. Blearily, I rubbed my eyes, glancing at the clock as I stumbled out of bed. I groaned. It was just after seven-thirty. I hadn’t slept for even four hours.

Cranky now, and only half awake, I still remembered my late-night visitor and checked the peephole before opening the door, but it was Blane standing there.

“Um, I . . . I . . . wasn’t expecting . . . you,” I stammered, blinking in the morning sunshine. I belatedly remembered how I must look, with tangled hair and last night’s makeup. Of course, Blane was in his customary suit and tie, sunglasses hiding his eyes.

“Brought you some coffee,” he said after an awkward moment, handing me a cup.

“Um, okay, thanks,” I said, taking it from him. I stepped back and he followed me into my apartment.

The coffee smelled heavenly, though my stomach lurched a little, reminding me that not enough sleep wasn’t good for the digestive system. I took a cautious sip and let out a sigh. I might forgive Blane for waking me up at this ungodly hour since he’d brought really good, really hot coffee.

I turned around to thank him, but the words stuck in my throat. He’d taken off his sunglasses and his gaze was raking me from head to foot with a familiar glint in his eyes. I abruptly realized I wasn’t really dressed for company. The white tank and bikini underwear left little to the imagination, and though Blane had seen it all before, it wasn’t exactly the look I was going for right then.

“Give me a minute,” I said, setting down the coffee. “I’ll be right back.”

I hurried into the bathroom, brushing my teeth and scrubbing my face. A brush through my hair did wonders and I pulled on a pair of knit shorts. I was back out in the living room in mere minutes.

“Sorry about that,” I said. Blane was sitting on the couch, so I picked up my coffee and sat in the chair across from him.

“It’s fine. Sorry to wake you.”

I shrugged. “I worked last night.” And had spent a few hours sitting at Kade’s bedside, but chose not to mention that. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him about James, but my problems weren’t Blane’s anymore, and James had always been my problem. I kept my mouth shut.

“I want to apologize,” Blane said. “For pushing you yesterday. I said I wouldn’t, and I did.”

“You had every right,” I replied.

“No, I didn’t. You gave me your terms and I didn’t abide by them.”

I winced. When he said it like that, I did sound like a selfish bitch. Tish’s words flashed through my mind and I took a deep breath.

“I can’t do this, Blane,” I blurted. “I can’t . . . be with you one minute, and with Kade the next. It’s wrong, and it’s not fair to either of you.”

He frowned. “What are you talking about?”

I swallowed, my voice quiet as I confessed. “You know I went to see Kade the other night, in the hospital, after you left.”

Blane’s face was carefully impassive. “Yes. I never said you couldn’t.”

God, I really didn’t want to go into detail. I set down my coffee, noticing that my hand was shaking. I clenched my hands together in my lap.

“We kissed, Blane,” I said. “You and me. Then I saw Kade, and . . . I kissed him, too.” Surely that was enough. I could feel my face burning, but didn’t give in to the temptation to look away and not meet his eyes. “I can’t do that. I can’t . . . be that person. I hate it. And I can’t trust myself not to be.”

The Adam’s apple in Blane’s throat moved as he swallowed. “So you’re choosing Kade after all.”

“No, I’m not. You were right, Blane. I can’t have what I want with Kade. But you and me, we can’t go back.” It was the hardest sentence I’d ever had to say and my heart hurt just forcing the words out. “I can’t . . . make myself feel about you the way I once did. And I’m sorry.” Tears started halfway through, but I kept talking even as my voice grew quieter, the syllables harder to say past the lump in my throat. “I should want to, I know that. You’re wonderful and I love you, I really do—”

“But you’re not in love with me anymore,” Blane cut in.

I shook my head. “And I’m so, so sorry,” I whispered. I felt my face crumple and gave in to the tears, covering my face with my hands so Blane wouldn’t see. My shoulders shook with silent sobs. I’d known this was coming, had known the three of us wasn’t going to work out, but a tiny part of me had hoped I’d have longer with them. With Blane.

“Shhh, don’t cry.” Blane was suddenly crouched down in front of me, his arms wrapping around me and pulling me out of the chair and into his lap. He tucked my head underneath his chin.

But it seemed I couldn’t stop. I no longer felt what had been inside of me for Blane, and being in love with Kade was pointless. Kade’s words had proved prophetic. My heart was broken for what Blane and I had lost, and loving Kade was as futile as chasing a rainbow.

Losing them both was going to be as devastating as I’d imagined.

“D-do you h-hate me now?” I hiccupped through my tears.

“Of course not,” he soothed.

“You sh-should,” I said. “I’ve been awful . . . selfish. And I’m g-going to m-miss you.”

The tears started again, dampening his neck, and I clutched the lapels of his jacket. I was one step closer to being alone again.

“I’m not leaving you,” Blane said softly. “I’ll still be around, okay?”

I wished I could believe that.

It seemed wrong for Blane to be comforting me at this point, so I pulled myself together and made the tears stop.

Blane was lightly stroking my hair, both of his arms around me as I rested against his chest. Neither of us spoke. I knew this would be the last time he’d hold me like this, ever, and I wasn’t ready for him to stop.

“If I’d known our last kiss was going to be our last kiss,” he murmured thoughtfully, “I’d have made it better.”

I sucked in a breath as the pain of those words sank in, and pulled back. He looked down and our eyes met. I caught a glint of wetness on Blane’s lashes, and his eyes seemed unusually bright. Then he blinked and I thought I must have imagined it.

“I, um, I’d better go,” he said.

I took the hint and clambered off his lap. He got to his feet and absently smoothed his jacket and tie before adjusting his cuff links. It was as though I was watching him don his politician’s armor right in front of me, and it made me unbearably sad.

He slid his sunglasses back on and ran his fingers through his hair. I followed him to the door, not knowing what to say or do. It seemed he didn’t, either, because although he cleared his throat, he didn’t speak.

The sunlight was glaring as I stood in the doorway. Blane gave me a hug and his lips brushed my hair.

“It’ll be okay,” he said, and I couldn’t tell if he was saying those words to me, or himself.

He jogged down the stairs to his car and I hurried forward to watch him over the railing, like I’d done so many times before. He glanced up and gave me a smile before disappearing inside his car, and pain twisted like a knife inside me.

It was that politician’s smile, the one that never reached his eyes. I used to be the one who he didn’t have to hide his emotions from, didn’t have to use that smile to conceal what was going on inside his head.

Not anymore.

Tears clogged my throat again and I swiped my wet cheeks with the back of my hand. Endings were hard, even more so when they faded away rather than exploding into dust.

I watched Blane drive off and it felt as if a hole had been ripped in my chest. The only thing harder than acknowledging to myself that it was over—really over—between us had been telling him.

My stomach heaved and I only just made it to the bathroom in time.

Kade had been blowing up my phone all evening. I hadn’t had a chance to even glance at my phone, so when I finally listened to the voice mails, they went like this:

I want to see you. If you’re not answering, that must mean you’ve been kidnapped by another psycho, because I’m sure you wouldn’t just ignore my call.

Twenty minutes later.

Of course, if you are ignoring my call, then you’re going to miss me telling you this great story about how this smokin’-hot girl showed up in my room the other night. I’ve been thinking about her all day.

Thirty minutes later.

That girl, she left too quick. I think she’s mad at me. Or maybe sad. Yeah, she looked sad when she left. I’m not sure why.

Forty minutes later.

I think we had a fight, maybe. I’m not a hundred percent sure. I’m afraid that—a pause, and then a huff of humorless laughter—I’m afraid. There’s two words I haven’t strung together in a long fucking time, princess.

Twenty minutes later.

I hope she knows that I love her. A pause.Yeah, just that. I love her and . . . I don’t want to lose her.

That had been the last message two hours ago. I’d cried when I listened.

I could see through the window that Kade was stretched out in bed and part of me hoped he was sleeping. I’d gain a reprieve. But he wasn’t, and the moment I stepped through the door, his head turned and his piercing blue gaze met mine.

Time seemed to stop as I froze, right inside the doorway. I didn’t even breathe as I crossed over to him. When I was near enough, he grabbed my arm and hauled me closer. Without another word, his hand curved around the back of my neck and he pulled me in to kiss me.

It wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t elegant. It was the kind of kiss you give someone you’d thought you might never kiss again.

Our lips and tongues entwined as his hands moved to gently hold my head, his thumbs brushing my cheeks. I buried my fingers in his hair, the taste and feel of him more precious than my next breath.

When we finally parted, we were both breathing hard. I rested my forehead against his, closing my eyes and concentrating on the touch of his hands, the sound of his breathing, the warm feel of his skin against mine.

“I love you,” he said, his voice a low rasp.

Pulling back slightly so I could look into his eyes, I said, “And I love you, Kade Dennon.” I hadn’t said those words since he’d first regained consciousness, and it was almost a relief to be able to say them once more.

Then he was kissing me again until my breath was gone. He pressed light kisses to my cheeks, my closed eyes, my forehead before returning to my mouth.

“I thought you might not come back,” he breathed against my lips.

“I can’t seem to stay away.” Which was the absolute truth. Kade exerted a pull on me that I couldn’t resist.

Our eyes met. I could get lost in the clear blue depths of his gaze.

Kade tugged on my hand and I climbed up next to him. His arms curved around me, tucking me in close to his side.

“We can’t go on like this,” I said after a while. “Me. You. Blane. It needs an ending.”

His fingers had been combing through my hair. Now they stopped.

“What kind of an ending did you have in mind?”

“The only one there can be,” I said quietly. “I need to go my own way, and you two go yours.”

Kade’s grip on me tightened. “That’s bullshit.”

I shifted so I could see his face. “Then what, Kade?” I asked, exasperated.

“What do you mean?”

“You told me a month ago that we couldn’t be together,” I reminded him. “That it was too dangerous for me to be with you. Have you changed your mind?”

Kade studied me, his brow furrowed. His hand brushed my cheek. “I’m insane to want to keep you,” he murmured, “but I can’t let you go.”

And it seemed that’s the only answer I was going to get, because then he started kissing me and I didn’t have the heart to push him away, not when our time was limited.

The aroma of fresh coffee greeted me when next I opened my eyes. I sat up from where I’d been slumped in the hospital bed, wincing as my neck and back gave sharp protests. I automatically glanced next to me, then froze when I saw the space was empty.

“They took him for some more tests.”

I jerked around to see Blane leaning against the wall, sipping a cup of coffee. Shit. I hadn’t left in time to avoid him, and after our conversation yesterday, I was all about avoiding. He looked put together and perfect, his slate-gray suit one of my favorites. The scent of his cologne wafted toward me, reminding me that I still smelled like stale booze. Nice.

I disappeared into the bathroom, splashing some water on my face and trying to make myself look like I hadn’t spent the night again squished next to Kade. I didn’t think I was successful.

I had no idea what to say to Blane when I came out, though I felt like I should say something.

“Do you have court today?” I asked, desperately searching for small talk.

Blane’s steely gray gaze slid my way. “Yes.” He didn’t elaborate, taking another sip of coffee and glancing back out the window.

Okay, well, it wasn’t like I couldn’t read that “fuck off” message.

The tension was like thick cotton pressing on my lungs. I wanted to say something else, but didn’t know what could possibly break through the wall between us. Blane was shutting me out, his face absolutely blank as he sipped his coffee. He glanced at the clock on the wall and then out the window, ignoring me completely.

But there was nothing I could say to or ask of him. He owed me nothing. Now I was merely one among the many exes that littered his history.

I’d known it would be bad, despite what he’d said to the contrary. I just hadn’t realized how bad, or how much it would hurt.

It was the morning of the thirteenth day that Kade had been hospitalized. The doctor was optimistic about releasing him the next day. I’d slept fitfully and was groggy, though it was later in the morning than when I usually left.

“You all right?” Kade asked, his brow furrowing as he looked at me.

“I’m fine,” I said automatically, adding a smile. He was doing so well, his healing progressing perfectly, and looked much better. “I’m just going to splash some water on my face and go.”

“You don’t have to jump up and leave so fast,” he said, grabbing hold of my arm as I made to get out of the bed.

But I knew Blane would be there soon, and glancing at the clock I realized it would be sooner rather than later. My stomach knotted at even the thought of seeing him again.

“I’ve got to feed Tigger,” I lied, slipping out of his grip. “And do laundry. But I’ll be back tonight.”

“Don’t come back,” Kade said.

That made me pause. “What?”

“You look exhausted,” he said bluntly. “Go home. You’ll sleep better there.”

I shook my head. “Forget it. And since you’re still lying in a hospital bed, you can’t make me.”

But Kade didn’t smile at my teasing. His hand reached out to cup my cheek. The concern in his eyes made me relent.

“I’m just tired,” I said. “But I want to be here. I need to be here. Don’t make me stay away.”

The desperation I couldn’t conceal leached into my voice and Kade must’ve heard it, because he nodded, though the worry I saw in his eyes didn’t ebb.

I couldn’t really put into words how much Blane’s utter disregard bothered me. What I did know was that if I was cut off from Kade, too, I felt like I’d fall apart. I’d grown to need the both of them so much—too much—and now it seemed I would be crippled without them.

And it wasn’t anything I could say aloud. The feelings didn’t make sense. It was selfish of me, needy, and yet I felt what I felt. So I tried to hide it the best I could. I deserved nothing from Blane, actually deserved far worse than his cold indifference. He was being kind just to tolerate me.

All those thoughts and more assailed me as I stood in the bathroom. They’d taken Kade for more tests, the last he’d undergo before he’d be discharged. I’d heard Blane come in just as Kade was leaving, heard them exchange a few words. I’d been hiding in the bathroom ever since. I felt strange this morning, weak. But I’d skipped dinner again last night, so that was probably why.

I looked at my watch for the fifth time. Ten minutes had passed. I was such a coward. But the longer I took, the weirder it would seem when I came out, so I took a fortifying breath, forcing myself to turn the knob and open the door.

Blane glanced around from where he stood by the window, sipping coffee as usual. He seemed surprised to see me and I realized he hadn’t known I was there.

“I-I was just leaving,” I stammered.

His gaze shuttered as he gave a curt nod, not even bothering to speak to me. He was dressed for work, of course, in a black suit and tie, the linen of his shirt a stark white that contrasted with the golden tan of his skin. As always, I felt like the poor relation, with my slept-in clothes and tousled hair. It seemed he had the same thought, as his eyes traveled a path down to my worn flip-flops before he turned back to the window.

Cheeks burning, I hastily turned away, a move I instantly regretted as the room tilted in my vision and I had to grab on to the bathroom door to keep from falling. A wave of dizziness swept over me and I swayed on my feet. Distantly, I heard my name spoken right before my knees buckled, and then the sound of something hitting the floor. Everything went dark.

Yelling. Lots of yelling. But it was muffled, like cotton was stuffed in my ears.

I opened my eyes and saw Blane’s face above me, dismay etched on his features. He called out something, and I realized it had been him yelling.

“What . . . ?” I managed to ask, glancing around. I was mostly lying on the floor, though Blane had his arm around my back, holding my head in the crook of his elbow. Coffee was splattered in a puddle on the floor by the window, an empty cup lying on its side.

“You fainted,” Blane said, the words not quite as muffled.

I felt like I couldn’t move, my limbs so heavy it seemed they were held to the floor by invisible weights. I closed my eyes.

“Kat! Wake up, baby. Can you hear me?” Blane’s urgent voice penetrated my haze and I opened my eyes again.

My head was beginning to clear and now embarrassment crept over me. I made myself sit up. This was what I got for not eating or sleeping enough. I’d made a fool of myself in front of Blane. The desperate need to get out of there had me scrambling to my feet, forcing my weak knees to work like they were supposed to.

“Take it easy,” Blane said, hovering close enough that I suspected he thought I might faint again.

Just then, a nurse poked her head in the door. “Is everything all right?” she asked. “I heard someone yelling for help.”

“She needs a doctor,” Blane replied.

“I’m fine,” I said.

“You just fainted,” Blane retorted, his eyes narrowing. “You’re not fine.”

“I’m tired,” I said. “I skipped dinner last night, so probably low blood sugar or something. I’m fine.”

Our eyes were locked in a battle of wills.

“How are you feeling now?” the nurse said, heading purposefully toward me. She scrutinized my face.

“Better,” I lied, hoping she’d just let it go. Blane had paid my last hospital bill, albeit without my knowledge or consent, after I’d gotten hit by a car. But I doubted he’d be doing that again. I couldn’t afford a bunch of tests that would end up telling me what I already knew: I was overly tired and hadn’t been taking very good care of myself. “I’m just tired.”

“I can’t let you leave without having a doctor take a look,” she explained. “Liability reasons. Can you come with me?”

Shit.

I glared at Blane, who blandly smiled.

“As a lawyer, I’d have to agree with the nurse,” he said. “You leaving would put them at risk should something happen on your way home.”

There was nothing I could say to that and Blane knew it. I gritted my teeth and followed the nurse from the room.

She led me to another room not far away and asked me to sit on the bed and wait while she got a doctor. Twenty minutes later, they’d taken a blood sample for tests while I answered fifty thousand questions from the doctor as she shone a light in my eyes.

“The tests should be done shortly,” she said, pocketing the light. “Why don’t you rest here and I’ll be back?”

I reluctantly agreed and she left. After staring at the wall for twenty minutes, I got bored. Fishing my cell from my pocket, I called Alisha.

“Hey,” I said when she answered. “Are you at work today?”

“Unfortunately,” she said. “Why?”

I bit back my disappointment. “Nothing. Just wanted to say hi.”

“What happened?” Alisha was pretty perceptive.

I told her about Blane showing up and me passing out. “Now I’m stuck waiting for them to finish so I can leave,” I said. “Besides feeling like a complete idiot.”

“It’s not like it’s your fault,” Alisha said.

“I know, but still.” I sighed.

“He’s still controlling your life! God, I swear! Can’t he just leave you alone? If you didn’t want to see a doctor, then that’s your decision.” She paused in the midst of her anti-Blane tirade. “Though I think it’s a good idea that you are.”

“Traitor,” I said without heat.

“Well, I know I’ll feel better about it if a doctor gives you a clean bill of health,” she said. “So just this one time, I’ll agree with Blane.”

“You were just all mad at him for making me do something!”

“I have a lot of hidden anger,” she protested.

“Hidden? Really?” My sarcasm was thick though I was grinning, too.

“Okay, maybe not so hidden,” she allowed.

A knock on the door had me saying, “Doctor’s back. Gotta go.”

“Okay, call me and tell me what he says.”

“It’s a she.”

“Whatever.”

I ended the call just as the doctor entered.

“That took a little while,” I said.

She smiled as she pulled a little stool on wheels over next to where I sat. “I apologize,” she said. “We like to be thorough.”

Something about the way she said that, the way she smiled, set off alarm bells in my head, and the leftover grin from my conversation with Alisha faded.

“What is it?” I asked. “What’s wrong?” It hadn’t occurred to me that something might actually be wrong with me. But from the look on the doctor’s face, I knew she had something to tell me.

“I’m not sure if this is welcome news or not,” she said carefully, “but the tests show conclusively that you’re pregnant.”

I stared at her, shock rippling through me. My mouth was hanging open and I snapped it shut.

“But-but that’s impossible,” I stammered. “I’m on birth control.”

“No birth control method is one hundred percent effective,” she said, her voice sounding much calmer than mine. “I’d also say you’re suffering from exhaustion and malnutrition,” she continued. “You’ll need to be more aware of your body’s needs the next few months. Eat right, get plenty of water and rest.”

I barely heard her. “But . . . I can barely afford to pay my own rent. How am I going to pay for a child?” I was reeling, the implications and fallout hitting me with the force of a Mack truck.

“May I ask, is the father in the picture?”

Kade. Oh my God. He wasn’t even sure I could be a fixture in his life, what would he say when he found out I was pregnant? And Blane. Oh God . . .

The room tilted again and the doctor jumped to her feet. “Lie down,” she said, easing me backward on the bed.

I squeezed my eyes shut as tears threatened. I would not cry in front of the doctor. I felt her take my hand, but she said nothing until I’d regained control. When I opened my eyes, her face held only compassion.

“If this was unplanned,” she said, “there are things you can do. Terminate the pregnancy, of course. There’s also adoption, if you want to give the baby up.”

This was too much. Her saying those things, it made it all too real.

“I have to get going,” I said, sitting up. “Um, where do I pay the bill?”

“The bill’s been taken care of,” she said. “The gentleman who I believe helped you earlier?”

Blane.

Panic struck. “You’re not going to tell him, are you?” I asked.

“Your records are confidential,” the doctor assured me, “though if he’s the father, I would encourage you to consider telling him.”

Hysterical laughter bubbled up in my chest and I swallowed it down. This felt like déjà vu. Just a few months ago I’d been afraid I was pregnant with Blane’s child. Now I was pregnant, but with his brother’s.

I hurried out of the room, intent on getting away as quickly as possible. I couldn’t think, couldn’t begin to process the abrupt turn my life had just taken. I felt inches from falling apart. If I could just make it to my car . . .

“Hey.”

I was suddenly brought to a halt by a hand on my arm. I looked up to see that Blane had stepped into my path.

“What did the doctor say?” he asked.

My eyes were wide with panic. I swallowed, forcing my voice to be calm when I replied. “She said I was fine,” I said, pasting a fake smile on my face. “Just like I told you.”

Blane’s eyes narrowed. “You’re lying,” he said flatly. “And I’m not in any kind of mood to be playing games with you. What did she say?”

Suddenly, it was all too much, and I snapped.

“Oh, now you’ve decided that you care? Listen, Blane, I don’t give a shit what kind of mood you’re in! It’s my life and you made it quite clear that you’re no longer in it. So don’t threaten me, and don’t push me!”

Blane’s face could have been carved in stone as my words echoed in my head. I was breathing hard, my fists clenched at my sides, as I stared up at him. I took a couple of steps backward, then turned and hurried away. I saw other people in the hallway staring, but I kept my gaze straight ahead and didn’t stop until I was locked safely inside the steamy oven of my car.

I started the engine but paused as I went to shift into drive. My hands were shaking, and it hit me all over again.

I was pregnant.

Leaning against the steering wheel, I started to sob.