by Cindy Miles
Hurriedly, I crossed the parking lot, but it wasn’t until I’d managed to climb into the Lexus and close the door tightly behind me that I allowed myself to cry. With tears falling, I started the engine, backed out of my space, then left Oakview Nursing Home behind. At least for a few more weeks. One more visit. Then I’d have another break where I could just be at school, pretending I was someone entirely different than who I was.
I made it back to Belle House in record time, set another fire in the hearth, kicked off my pumps and changed into a pair of warm fleece pajamas. Beneath the blanket, I made it halfway through Sense and Sensibility before the last rays of daylight fell across the hall. Then I dug a banana out of my bag, sat cross-legged by the fire, and ate it. The moment my eyes drifted shut, the nightmares returned. I fought them all night. Those demons that hounded me. I woke up sweating, achey. I’d drift back into a restless sleep. By the time light shone through the drapes in the hall, I’d already been awake for an hour. I rose, dressed, and washed my face.
I spent the day preparing for my December visit, which basically included chopping more wood so that I’d have a fire to lay in front of when I came up for Christmas. I chopped for two solid hours. I didn’t even realize blisters had formed on my hands until I stopped—and they’d begun to sting. After I loaded the wood inside, I ran cold water over my palms. I supposed they’d just have to heal on their own.
The Christmas visit would be more lengthy, as we had nearly three weeks before the new semester started back up after New Year’s Day. It was a visit I dreaded, but I’d make sure I had enough to read. Enough to eat. I’d make it through, just like I always did. I called the electric company, deciding to keep the power on since it was just a few weeks away. At least then I wouldn’t have to run through the place, switching on lights. I’d leave them on. Every single one of them.
That night, I laid by the fire on the floor in the gathering hall, and as the wind beat at the walls of Belle House, and the noises of an old decrepit mansion made frightening grunts and groans similar to the lady of the house who once ruled with an iron fist, I pulled the blankets up to my chin, squeezed my eyes shut. Fear stabbed at me—my old room was up there, after all, and the dark room on the third floor, and the memories that came with both chewed and clawed and pawed at the door like some wild beast. But I thought of Kane, the soothing softness of his husky voice, his all-knowing eyes, and his beautiful face. For once, the demons stayed away.
By the time morning cracked through the drapes in the gathering hall, I’d decided it was probably the longest I’d ever slept in Belle House. Ever. I credited it to thoughts of Kane, which had somehow soothed me. It frightened me, how many thoughts of him invaded me now. What would happen when he left? I hated thinking about it and refused to do so. I’d deal with it when it happened. And it would undoubtedly happen.
After stacking more wood by the hearth, and making sure the fire was properly extinguished, I gathered my things, closed the front door and locked it. Dropping the copper key back under the mat, I hurried to my car, climbed in, and left. Driving away from Belle House always felt like a double-edged sword; glad to be leaving, yet feeling as though a rabid dog was bounding after me, chasing me down the lane, down the bluff, until I’d safely reached the highway. Only then did I breathe easy. The drive was long. Quiet. Overcast. The blisters on my palms stung. I tried to fill my thoughts with anything other than my return Christmas visit to Belle House. So I thought of Kane. Of every moment we’d spent together since he first asked me directions to the observatory.
“It’s not possible that Corinne Belle still has spies keeping an eye out on me,” I said out loud. “Is it? She can’t give commands anymore. How can she? She only has her mean cold eyes left.” I watched the scenery pass by, and signs of winter clung to the half-bare limbs and browned grass. “No one stayed behind at the house. The attorney said there was no one else left, except me.” I chewed my lip. “Only me.”
I pulled through Winston’s front gates just before dark. The campus was still quiet; most of the students would start straggling back through the gates late tomorrow afternoon, and that was fine by me. But when I turned down my street I noticed someone sitting on the front porch of Delta House. And it wasn’t a Delta.
Kane sat in one of the rocking chairs, and the moment he noticed my car, he leapt up and jogged down the steps. Before I could turn off the engine he was reaching for my door handle. Surprised, I looked at his face; wrought with worry, lines pulled around his eyes, and his brows gathered together. I put the car in park, my doors unlocked, and he opened it.
“Hi,” I said cautiously, and climbed out. He stood over me, close but not touching, although I wanted him to. His vibe was different; worrisome? Anger?
“You turned your phone off.”
“Are you angry at me?” I asked. “I…you know I don’t keep my phone on me like most girls.”
His features shifted, eased, and those eyes searched mine, so deep, emotions raw. Then he sighed. “I’m not used to worrying—” he closed his eyes, sighed again. “I missed you.”
That brought a smile to my face. A real, genuine smile. “I missed you, too.” I glanced around the parking lot, just in case someone was watching. The thought made me a little edgy. “But I thought you rode with Olivia and Brax to her place?”
“I decided at the last minute to follow them instead,” he answered, and his eyes dropped to my mouth. “Something in my gut told me I might want to come back a little early.”
“Something other than the Thanksgiving Day football game?”
His eyes smiled. “I didn’t need to be here for the game.”
“Oh,” I answered. My fingers itched to touch his soft, messy hair. I inspected him, and realized I’d missed everything about him. “Your nose is red.” I grinned.
“So’s yours,” he replied. “And your lips are, too.”
I glanced at the house. “Do you want to come inside?”
His gaze followed mine, then returned to me. “I thought you wanted to keep us a secret.”
“Well, no one’s around yet,” I answered. “And it’s not that I want to keep you a secret, Kane.” That wasn’t entirely true. I just didn’t want him knowing about me.
He shifted his weight, and it moved him closer to me, crowding me against my car, and I found I liked it very much. “I thought maybe you’d want to have dinner with me. At Brax’s place. Olivia’s mom sent a ton of food with me and no way can I eat all of it by myself.” He ducked his head, watching me. “You’ve no meetings. No homework. No fundraisers to attend. Right?”
A smile tugged at my mouth. “Right.” My body leaned closer to him. “Can I meet you over there in an hour? I’d like to clean up a little.”
Kane’s eyes smiled, and he bent over and sniffed my head. “You do smell a little smoky.” The corners of his mouth lifted. “I like it. Even your cheeks are rosy. You must’ve had a good visit home.” He winked. “I’ll see you in an hour.”
“See ya in a few,” I said, and watched Kane as he shoved his hands in his pockets and started the walk back to Brax’s apartment off campus. He glanced over his shoulder at me once, and I saw the whites of his teeth as he flashed me a smile. I waved and headed inside.
Quickly, I shed my clothes and showered, washing the wood smoke from my hair and body. Something was making me ache inside; it was an unfamiliar feeling, accompanied by dread. I knew what it was, actually. Only I didn’t know what to do about it.
The Dare. I wanted no part of it now. Kane was not Dare material. Other than the fact that I wished like crazy he’d stop wasting his life running numbers. I still planned on convincing him to do something else with himself. But the Dare? Now that I knew him? He was above that. Above fraternity and sorority pranks and humiliation. It was stupid. And I was stuck. And despite the humility Olivia and Macie had endured, did I really, truly care a lick about the Kappas? I didn’t. And it all seemed so childish now.
Part of me wondered if
I should just tell him. But I quickly squashed that idea. He’d think I was an idiot for not only participating in it, but for thinking it up.
I’d have to figure out something else.
After I dried my hair and applied light make-up, I pulled my cream cashmere sweater dress from my closet and slipped it on, along with a pair of matching socks to wear beneath my black leather boots. Wearing my hair down, I tucked it behind my ears, gathered my coat, keys and purse, and headed to Brax’s apartment. For a change, my mood felt light. Never had I returned from Belle House after Thanksgiving, or any time, really, to be greeted by someone like Kane. Never. I was usually filled with terror. Guilt. Now? My heart raced at the thought of being alone with Kane McCarthy, shaded from view, just the two of us. Worry niggled my brain, though. Would he see things I didn’t want him to see? See me with those dark, wise eyes? I almost wondered if they contained super human powers. I shook the feeling off, deciding to treat myself for once to something I’d never had: companionship.
I parked in front of Brax’s studio apartment, and before I made it to his front door, Kane had stepped out, grabbed my arm, and pulled me inside. The door hadn’t even shut before his mouth was there against mine, seeking and tasting, and his hands loosened my coat and purse and dropped them onto the table by the door. Then his arms went around me, slid down to my waist, and pulled me against him as his lips moved over mine. My hands eased up his chest and found their way around his neck. I couldn’t help the groan that escaped my throat, and he swallowed it down and deepened the kiss. Sensations rocked me, heated my insides, and I thought I’d melt into a puddle right there on the spot.
Then, with a final sweep of his tongue, his lips over mine, he pulled back. His coffee eyes were shining, deep pools of liquid glass. “Hey there,” he said, smiling.
I smiled back. “Hey yourself.”
“You wanna sit?” he asked, inkling his head toward the sofa.
“Sure,” I answered, and Kane laced his fingers through mine and tugged. I couldn’t help the gasp of pain when his big hand squeezed my palm.
“What is it?” he asked, then looked at my hand. Turned it over. Then he grabbed my other hand and did the same. “Harper,” he said softly, and he gently ran his thumb gently over my blisters. He looked at me. “What did you do?”
Panic. Fear. “I um,” I hesitated. “I helped chop some firewood.” I gave a soft laugh. “Kind of a Belle family tradition.” I found his gaze, and it watched me closely. “We all take turns.”
Silently, he led me over to the sofa. A single candle in a mason jar sat on a big square coffee table, and the scent of maple and apples rose in the air. I sniffed, liking it. We sat down. He gathered my hands in his. “Next time wear gloves,” he said. “Do you want me to doctor them?”
I smiled. “They’re just blisters, Kane. I’ll be fine.” I sniffed the air, trying to push his attention away from my injured palms. “That candle smells so nice.”
“Olivia’s touch,” Kane said. “She’s good for my brother. Real good.”
I looked around. I’d been in the apartment a couple of times before. “I think the trophy count is doubled since the last time I was in here,” I noticed. “He really loves it.”
“Lives it and breathes it,” Kane answered. “Ever since we were kids.” He laughed lightly. “The first thing he ever said to me, when we met, was, Do you like baseball?”
I looked at him. “When you met?”
Kane’s eyes softened. “Yeah.” He drew back a little. “You didn’t know we were foster brothers?”
Fosta brothas. “I did, yes. Olivia told me. But I didn’t know how old you were when you met.” My mind whirled then, full of questions I had no right asking. Especially since I avoided my own. Somehow, I couldn’t help myself. “What happened to your parents?”
Kane studied me for a moment, those profound eyes searching mine. Seeking trust? Avoiding fear? I thought for a moment he wouldn’t answer me, and I regretted putting him on the spot. I’d have hated it. I’d have balked. Instead, he held my hand, stroked the top of my knuckles with his thumb. He looked down, then back at me, and I knew then he’d decided to trust me. I couldn’t decide if I cherished that, or despised myself for it.
“Are we still playing the question game?” he asked, surprising me. “I answer one, you answer one? The truth and only the truth?”
Slowly, I nodded. And prayed he asked the right things.
His gaze dropped to our hands again, and he breathed. “You know how some kids turn out exactly like their dad or mom?” He looked at me. “I vaguely remember my mom. She…left us. A long time ago, before I was five. But one thing I know for damn sure. I’m nothing like my father.”
The resentment in his voice shifted his features into something harsh, something much, much older. Something I wasn’t used to seeing in gentle Kane McCarthy. I waited for him to continue. Squeezed his hand, sank closer to him.
“My father was a drunk, evil bastard,” he continued. “The kind of scumbag who should’ve never fathered children.” He shook his head, wouldn’t look at me. “Any excuse he could find to beat me or my sister, he was all over it.”
My heart started slamming in my chest. “You have a sister?” I asked quietly.
His eyes sought mine. “Katy.”
I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “Do you get to see her very much?”
A soft sigh escaped Kane’s throat, and the smile he turned on me was sad, winsome, and vague. “As often as I can.”
“What about your father?” I dared ask. I couldn’t seem to help myself. I wanted to know more. All. Everything.
“Prison.” He breathed again, squeezed my hand. Another winsome smile. “Your turn. And I get to ask four to your four. Fair enough?”
I nodded, fearful. But fair was fair. “Yes.”
He half-turned, resting his back against the arm rest of the sofa. Outside, the light began to fade, and the candle burning on the coffee table flickered, making the shadows dance across Kane’s handsome face. “Are you an only child?”
“Yes.”
He nodded. “Where are your parents?”
“Dead, when I was eight. My grandmother raised me.”
I’d even offered that one up on my own. It seemed relatively harmless enough. Didn’t it?
“Why are you afraid of the dark?” he asked in that soft, buttery voice.
I glanced down, staring at our entwined hands. My breath caught in my throat, and I found the next breath even harder to draw. Kane’s knuckle tucked beneath my chin and lifted my gaze back to his. “What are you so afraid of, Harper?”
In the depths of his brown eyes I saw mine reflected there; wide, fearful, unsure. “What is it you’re hiding from everyone?” he asked quietly. His thumb grazed my jaw, my lips. “What’s behind all this broken beauty? Tell me.”
Demons are in the dark, that’s what. Blood. And they want to hurt me like they hurt my parents. Horrible noises that humans shouldn’t make. Footsteps, creaking boards, and smelly kitchen sponges. Dark rooms with locks on the outside and asylums for girls who have psychological problems. That’s what I’m afraid of. But I can’t tell you any of that.
Panic began to close my throat, and although I wanted to hide it from Kane, I couldn’t keep my breath from trying to force its way out of my lungs. My eyes grew wider, and my skin flushed; hot and cold at once. My lips became tingly, numb, and I pushed away, tried to stand, but my knees gave way and I buckled back down.
“Harper, Harper, take it easy,” Kane said, his gentle voice edged with concern. His hand wouldn’t let go of mine; he pulled me to him, but I squirmed back.
“Hey, hey, I’m sorry,” he crooned. “It’s okay, you don’t have to go there,” he ducked his head, making me see his eyes. “Look at me, Harper. Focus. Breathe slower, honey. Nice and slow.”
I couldn’t; the breath wanted come fast, faster, but then Kane took my hand, placed it against his chest, and he again ducked his head until our g
azes connected. “Feel me breathing, Harper? Feel my nice slow breaths?”
I did, and although I couldn’t say anything, I nodded.
“Good. Make yours do the same as mine. Nice and slow. Be just like me.”
With his hand pressing mine against his chest, I focused on the slow rise and fall as his air moved through. A heavy, faster thump-thump against my palm made me know his heart pounded. His eyes wouldn’t leave mine, though. With him, I slowed my breathing. The panic began to fade. And the second he saw me relax, Kane pulled me into his arms. I went readily, and sagged against him. Tears leaked from my eyes, and shimmers wracked my body.
“Shh, Harper,” he whispered against the top of my head. “I’m sorry, honey. It’s okay, I promise.”
“You can’t say that,” I said, and the sound muffled against the flannel button-up plaid shirt he wore. “You can’t say that. You don’t know.”
For a while, Kane simply sat, with me resting against his chest, his hand stroking my hair. It soothed me, calmed me, and I was surprised by it. No one had ever been able to chase away a panic attack. No one.
“How long have you had them?” he asked gently. He knew I knew what he meant. The attacks. We were that in sync. Maybe he’d had them, too.
“Since I was eight,” I answered. Finally, I sat up, and before I could dry my eyes with the backs of my hand, Kane’s thumb was brushing the tears away. He lifted my chin. “I’ve been able to keep them away because,” I looked away, although he kept my chin in his hand. “No one knows me.” I closed my eyes, then looked at him. “Please don’t tell.” It was only a small facet of my life that Kane had accidentally seen. He didn’t know the rest. Jesus, please don’t let him know…
“Of course I won’t tell anyone,” he assured me. His thumb smoothed my brow. “You’re safe with me, you know?”
Somehow, I really wanted to believe that. There was something incredibly protective about Kane McCarthy. Something, I imagine, from his past that he kept from me. Secrets. So very many secrets. Between the two of us, a bottomless trunk full of them.