by Meghan March
When he finally shows his face in the kitchen, it’s not for the reason I expect.
“I got space. Metal. Tools. Everything you need. Instead of stomping around up here, you might as well pretend I’m a piece of metal and hammer the shit out of it.”
“But—”
“Offer’s on the table. I got work to do.” He turns away and strides toward the elevator.
I bite my lip, wanting to reject his offer, but also desperately needing the outlet he’s offered me. “I can’t use your expensive parts. I use junk. Scrap metal. Not new stuff.”
He pauses. “Use whatever you want. It’s yours.”
* * *
It wasn’t how I expected to spend my day, but I can’t argue that the twisted knot in the pit of my stomach loosens a few degrees with every hour I spend hammering, cutting, shaping, and welding.
I only pretend one of the pieces of metal is Kane for a few minutes. Mostly.
Stubborn ass.
But I can’t lie . . . his wonderland of tools and parts gives me new ideas, because he has more than I’ve ever had access to at Elijah’s. And somehow, while my earbuds were shoved in my ears and I was pretending he didn’t exist, two pallets of scrap metal were delivered.
Kane disappeared before I could decide whether or not to thank him.
My brain is working overtime with ideas and designs. I find a notepad shoved between two toolboxes and borrow it to spend a solid hour drawing.
My cell phone doesn’t ring. No one calls from the distillery needing my help. It makes me wonder if Keira gave the order for no one to contact me, but I refuse to let myself think about it when I have a pencil or tools in my hand.
My stomach gnaws at my backbone, and I finally put all the tools away.
When I make it to the kitchen, I find a note on the counter that there’s food in the fridge for me.
This could be my life—my dream life. Working on my art all day, and spending all night with a man who understands me on a level no one else has ever approached. The man that I’m . . . falling for.
The man who doesn’t have a place for me in his future.
Growing up the way I did, I learned not to want things, because so often they’re torn right from your grasp. That’s why I built the wall and kept people out.
But Kane demolished it like a wrecking ball. He made me want things.
As I warm up the food he cooked, I realize I should have known better.
I don’t get to have a happily-ever-after.
36
Temperance
After receiving an email this morning from Keira to consider myself on vacation until further notice, I do the only thing I can to retain my sanity and shore up my self-worth—especially because Kane never came to bed last night.
I work.
Now I have three more finished pieces—the large skyline that I finished at Elijah’s that’s in the Tahoe, a fiddle with wire strings that’s perfect for a tabletop, and a piece that I know I won’t deliver to Valentina.
A small army jeep.
Even though I refused to acknowledge it while the torch was in my hand, I made it for Kane.
As a thank-you.
Maybe as a good-bye.
The thought burns like acid, and I set the jeep on top of a toolbox and grab my notebook.
Maybe if I pretend, I’ll be able to convince myself the tears staining the pages are raindrops.
37
Kane
Unknown Number: Open the garage.
* * *
I knew he’d come, but I didn’t think he’d be early. He didn’t even give me twelve hours. Fucking great.
* * *
Kane: What’s the fucking password.
Unknown Number: Open the fucking garage.
* * *
I zoom in on the monitor in front of me with the camera outside my garage door. Facial recognition shows one of Mount’s men.
Not good enough.
I tap on the contact and call.
“I don’t repeat myself three times for anyone.” The deep voice is one I recognize as easily as my own.
“Can’t be too careful.”
He hangs up, and I squeeze my eyes shut and clench one fist over the other.
I have no other choice.
That doesn’t mean I’m ready to do what I have to do. I should have told her this morning. But I couldn’t face her. I’m a fucking coward.
In the back of my mind, I always knew it was going to come to this, but I’ve been letting myself believe otherwise. Like hit men ever get to keep the girl in the end.
I flip a switch and all the monitors in my office go black. With the slow stride of a man heading to the gallows, I leave my command center on the second floor.
It’s time to go meet the devil himself and assure him the plan we discussed is a go.
* * *
I hit the stairwell at a jog, and the sound of ZZ Top blaring through my speakers puts a smile on my face before I remember what’s going to go down during this meeting.
Sparks fly as she shears off a piece of metal, and I want to take the angle grinder out of her hands to do it myself, even though I know she’s more than capable. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to protect her from sparks—and everything else I possibly can.
Fuck you, Ransom. Why’d you take that fucking job? If he were standing in front of me, I’d put my fist through his face.
Then I berate myself. Why’d you have to fall for her, Kane? You knew better. You knew you’d have to let her go.
“Temperance,” I yell, but she doesn’t hear me over rocking out with ZZ Top. I hit the power button for the stereo, and she whips around when things go silent.
“Hey!”
I jerk my head toward the door. “We got company. Take a break. Head upstairs.”
She turns off the angle grinder, sets it on the workbench, and shoves her safety glasses up onto her forehead. She won’t even look me in the eye.
Yep, I’m doing a bang-up job of making her hate me.
Don’t worry, princess. The finale is coming.
“What kind of company?”
I shake my head rather than answer her.
“Is my brother here?”
The trace of excitement in her tone slays me, but reinforces that I’m doing the right thing. The only thing I can.
“No.”
Her expression falls and she props her hands on her hips, finally lifting her dark gaze to my face. “Who, then?”
My phone buzzes again, and I know my time is up.
“Mount,” I say as I stride toward the lockbox that controls the overhead door. “Now, get behind that metal wall. I’m not risking you being taken out by someone if they brought a tail.”
38
Temperance
“I’m not risking you being taken out . . .”
His harsh words scrape me raw. This is what my life has become.
I edge behind the solid steel wall that Kane obviously put here for a purpose. Probably so he could use it for cover if he ever had to shoot at someone driving in through the reinforced garage door that’s opening as I hide.
Mount is here.
I should have expected him to come, and I’m not sure why I didn’t. Keira said they were coming back, and I should have assumed, as problem number one in the company, Mount would come take care of me.
Take care of me.
My blood turns icy.
Is he going to kill me? Have I become that much of a nuisance that I’m better off dead? Is he going to punish me for the trouble my brother has caused?
My heart slams with terrified beat after beat as the possibilities race through my brain. I immediately try to justify my way out of this.
Keira wouldn’t let him. He already said he’d make sure I was safe. If he didn’t care if I was dead, he wouldn’t have sent Kane to me.
Right?
Unfortunately, I have no idea how to answer that question.
The only thing I kno
w for sure is that Kane won’t let him hurt me, no matter what. He may not want me, but he won’t let anything happen to me.
I inhale slowly, trying to remain calm, and tell myself this isn’t going to turn into a shootout that ends in bloodshed. Please, God. Don’t let that happen.
Two car doors slam and the overhead door closes as I send up the prayer.
“Where is she?”
“Busy.”
“I don’t have time to fuck around, Kane. Is she ready?”
“Not yet. I haven’t told her.”
Told me what? My stomach knots tighter, and I know whatever it is, it isn’t going to be good for me.
“What the fuck are you waiting for?”
“It’s not like this is easy.”
“Yes, it is. You tell her she’s going to her brother. End of story.”
The knot in my gut loosens at Mount’s words.
I pop out from behind the steel wall, and immediately the barrels of two guns are trained on me.
“Put your fucking guns down.” Kane barks the order, holding an arm out and taking two steps to stand between me and what would be the trajectories of the bullets if both men fired.
I tell myself it’s only because he feels responsible for me.
“I get to see Rafe?”
That’s the only thing that matters now. Part of me had already resigned myself to the fact that I’m never going to see my brother again. That I need to learn how to live with that knowledge. But now, hope bubbles up inside me like water through a fountain.
“When? Where?”
“Temperance,” Kane starts, but Mount interrupts him.
“Tonight.” He jerks his head at the guy behind him. “Get the bag.”
The man nods and pops the trunk before going around the back of the Maybach to retrieve a duffel.
My mind races with what could be in it. Money? Information? Guns?
They come toward Kane and me and hold it out, along with the keys to the Maybach.
What the hell is going on? Kane accepts the bag and keys before tossing another set of keys to the man.
“Didn’t have a brand-new Range Rover for you, so I hope you don’t mind taking the Tahoe.”
Why are they trading cars? I want to ask the question so badly, but something tells me to keep silent.
“As long as I get mine back in one piece.”
“Obviously.”
Mount’s gaze narrows on me. “I hope you’re ready.”
I have no idea how to answer because I don’t know what’s happening. So I bullshit instead. “Whatever it takes to make sure Rafe is okay.”
Mount’s eyebrow inches up almost imperceptibly. “You’re a better sister than he deserves.” Then he looks to Kane. “The jet will be ready at seven. Don’t be late.”
Jet? The knot in my stomach is back and has quadrupled in size. Who the hell is getting on a jet?
“We’ll be there.”
Mount nods and heads for the Tahoe, which is parked at the door. His man climbs in the driver’s seat and Mount in the passenger side. The windows go black.
Kane crosses to the control box. “Behind the wall,” he says, and I slip back before he engages the door opener.
As quickly as he arrived, Mount leaves, although in a completely different vehicle this time.
As soon as the door is closed, I pop out from behind the wall and my questions are rapid-fire. “What’s going on? Why is there a jet? Who’s leaving? Rafe? Where’s he going?”
Kane releases the control box, and his expression is totally blank.
“Kane . . . Please, you have to tell me something.”
He stops in front of me. “Rafe’s leaving the country—”
I feel like someone grabbed my heart and squeezed. Then he drops the next bomb.
“And so are you.”
39
Kane
All the blood drains from Temperance’s face, and I want to shoot myself for not prepping her when I had the chance. I should have warned her.
That’s on me. Because I wasn’t ready to let her go.
I should be shot.
I take her in—from the bandana holding her brown hair in a knot on the top of her head, to the old You Better Belize It T-shirt she stole out of my drawer, to her ripped jeans and battered work boots. This incredible woman put her trust in me, and I have no choice but to let her go.
“What do you mean so am I? I’m not leaving. I have a life. I can’t—” She chokes on whatever she’s going to say next, and I step closer.
“It’s the only way, Temperance.”
She looks up at me. “The only way? But what if . . . what if I see Rafe and he leaves? Can’t I stay—”
I grip both her shoulders and squeeze, keeping her gaze on mine. “They will hunt you forever if they can’t find him. You’ll never be safe. You both have to disappear. There’s no other choice. No other way.” I squeeze her tighter, wishing I could drag her against me and wrap my arms around her. “It’s the only way you’ll be safe.”
Her dark gaze carries intense emotion, and it stabs me in the gut. “You’re sending me away. Just like he did. Being noble.”
That’s where she’s wrong. There’s nothing noble about this. It’s a result of me being backed into a corner and not having another way out.
“It’s the only way,” I repeat.
Something dawns in her expression, and it looks a lot like hope. “You can find the bad guys and kill them all. Or you can come with us. Start over. Be somebody else.”
She doesn’t realize that I’ve already done that before, and a man can only die so many times.
When I open my mouth to respond, she presses a finger to my lips.
“Don’t say no. I refuse to let you say no. I—” She pauses. “Kane, I don’t want to live the rest of my life without you.”
40
Temperance
Kane’s jaw clenches like I just stabbed him through the heart. When he winces and his fingers flex, digging into my shoulders, I can almost feel his agony.
Or maybe I’m telling myself that’s what it is because I want so badly for it to be the truth.
“Please don’t be noble, Kane. I can’t give you up. I won’t. Don’t ask me to.” It’s strange how threatening to take something away from someone will cement their attachment to it faster than anything else.
Before Mount came here to deliver the verdict, I was telling myself that if Kane didn’t want me, I could let him walk away. Now, I refuse to let anyone steal that chance from us, including Kane himself.
He forces one of his hands to uncurl from around my shoulder and cups my cheek. “Temperance . . .”
I don’t want to hear him say no. It’s not a response I’ll accept, so I do the only sensible thing—I reach up with both hands and wrap them around his neck so I can drag him down and kiss him.
My lips crash into his, and I plaster my body against him. At first, he doesn’t respond, like he’s still forcing himself to pull away from me, but I won’t let him.
I’m no quitter.
I kiss him harder until his control finally snaps and he devours me like a starving man. Like a man getting his last desperate taste of the one thing he loves.
But that’s not going to happen here. I refuse to walk away from Kane.
He pulls back from me just long enough to lift me into his arms and carry me toward the hood of the Maybach.
Under normal circumstances, I’d be freaking out about the possibility of scratching the paint, especially when the car is owned by someone so terrifying. But I don’t care.
Right now, nothing matters more than this man and this moment, and I etch every bit of it into my memory as it happens. Just in case.
He sets me on my feet before tearing his mouth away from mine. “I need you. Now.”
“Yes.”
With his stare boring into me, he grips the neck of my shirt and shreds it down the center.
“No matter what happens, Temperan
ce. I will never forget you. You gave me something no one else has ever given me—peace.”
The words are probably meant to soothe, but they shred me instead. I don’t want to hear no matter what unless it’s tied to the words we’ll always be together.
Frantic, I grab for the hem of his shirt and drag it up and over his head. I run my hands over his body—his beautiful, well-honed weapon of a body—and commit it to memory.
Stop thinking like that, Temperance.
Kane’s hands go to my jeans and quickly free me from them, and I kick them aside before making short work of his. Right there, in the middle of his garage and in front of the King of New Orleans’ car, I drop to my knees and worship him.
He will never forget me. Never.
He bucks against my face, and this time I don’t hesitate. I swallow every inch, losing any trace of inhibition. I suck and lick and stroke until his back arches and his balls tighten.
“Not down your throat.”
He grunts out the words before hooking his thumbs under my armpits and lifting me off my knees and onto my feet. As soon as I find my footing, his hands wrap around my waist and he lifts me onto the hood. Under my bare ass, the metal is still warm from the heat of the engine.
I drop back onto my elbows and spread my legs. “Make me remember this forever.”
Kane’s nostrils flare, and with one hand at the base of his cock, he steps between my legs. “You’ll still feel me tomorrow.”
He pushes in with a single stroke, and it’s furious and primal. We’re two animals intent on imprinting ourselves on each other in a way that transcends sex.
This is primal. Barbaric. And utterly fucking delicious.
I scream out my orgasm as I come, clamping down on his dick, and he fucks me harder until he yells my name.