by Tiffany Snow
“Yeah.”
“Hey, how’s Kat doing?”
“You mean after you were such a dick to her yesterday? She’s just peachy.”
Blane cursed. “I hate that fucking job,” he said. “Then she got pissed because of Kandi, thinks I’m just using her…” He sighed.
“Can you blame her?” Kade shot back. “I’m not even that in to you and I hate Kandi.”
“Give it a rest,” Blane groused. “Are you coming to her Christmas party tonight or not? I have a feeling whoever’s doing this is going to show.”
“I thought you were sure they wouldn’t.”
“That was before I knew she’d invited half the damn town,” Blane said. “Better to be safe than sorry. Make sure you’re packing heat.”
“Have you ever known me to go without?”
Blane snorted a “Bye” and ended the call.
A few minutes later, Kade was pulling into the parking garage of his apartment building. Flipping open his phone, he checked the GPS on Kathleen. Yep, working perfectly and showing still in her apartment.
He lived on the top floor, which didn’t mean he couldn’t leave quickly if he had to. Tossing his keys on the counter, Kade set his weapon down, then bent to retrieve the knife strapped to his leg and the other semi-automatic in his ankle holster.
Shoving a hand through his hair, he went into his office, toggling the space bar on the keyboard and causing the four monitors to come to life.
The trace was still going on Bowers’ phone numbers, as well as a search Kade had running for all his credit card and ATM transactions. If he used either one anywhere in the world, Kade would know about it within seconds.
Sitting back in the chair, Kade reached for a folder on a stack by his desk. It was something he looked at way too often.
Flipping it open, a photo of Kathleen stared back at him. Kade hadn’t taken it. He’d paid someone else to.
She’d been leaving the firm a few weeks ago, the autumn afternoon sunshine making her hair shine like gold. She’d slipped on her mirrored sunglasses, which made her look like the total badass she wasn’t, but were still smokin’ hot on her.
Kade had paid the guy to follow her, tell him her routine, and he’d been thorough. Every day nearly the same. Work at the firm from eight a.m. to six p.m. Some nights she went straight from there to The Drop, depending on her schedule. When she did work at The Drop, she closed, not getting home until after one in the morning.
Other than dating Blane, her social life was non-existent, not that she had time for much of one. For a month straight, every minute of her day had been documented, right down to the nights Blane stayed over.
Kade had known by then that Kathleen was everything she appeared to be, that she held no threat to Blane. If anything, the reverse was true. Blane was a love ‘em and leave ‘em type, always going back to Kandi, time and again. Why, Kade didn’t know, though he supposed Blane’s uncle (Kade refused to claim the relation) often pushed them together, pressuring Blane to marry.
Even knowing she wasn’t a threat, however, Kade hadn’t stopped the surveillance or his own obsession with finding out everything he could about her. He’d watched as she’d sent nearly every dime of that twenty grand he’d left her in to the bill collectors, watched as her bank account dipped so low he wondered how she could afford to buy food, and even now there was only a couple hundred bucks in it.
It pissed him off that Blane hadn’t done more for her, just using her to fuck until he grew bored. Then he’d dump her—or have Clarice do the dumping for him—and that would be that. Kade had never before spared a thought for the broken hearts Blane left in his wake. Until now.
Granted she’d lasted longer than most, but Kade would be willing to bet part of that was this case and the threat to her. Nothing quite brought out the protective side of Blane like a damsel in distress. Kathleen had no one. No family, not a lot of friends. That punched about every button Blane had. Add to that her beauty, her innocence, and Kade could see why Blane was totally sucked in. For how long, though, Kade had no clue.
Glancing at his watch, Kade saw it was time to leave. He had a meeting set up with Donovan about a favor. Since Kade had been asking for a lot of favors lately, it was time to pay up.
The bar was nearly empty at this hour, the bartender still taking chairs off tables as Kade walked through the door. Special Agent Donovan was already there and Kade sat opposite him, back to the wall and facing the door. He slid a folder across the table.
“Vodka neat,” Kade said to bartender who’d approached. He waited until he was out of earshot. “There’s the code you wanted broken,” he said.
“That was fast,” Donovan said in surprise, flipping through the pages.
Kade shrugged as the bartender set down a shot glass in front of him, filled to the brim with ice cold liquid. His thoughts weren’t on the code, which had been dead simple to crack, they were on Kathleen. His skin practically itched to call her, go back to her apartment. He’d checked the GPS about a dozen times already, just on the drive over here. Lifting the glass, he downed the vodka in one swallow.
“Little early, isn’t it?” Donovan said, a ghost of a smile on his lips.
Kade had always liked Donovan. They’d worked well together as partners for over a year. They’d kept the other alive and had each other’s backs. They had earned a respect for one another, which was something hard-won from Kade. Things were always professional, but occasionally Donovan liked to give him shit. Like now.
Kade answered without thinking. “It takes the edge off.”
“What edge is that?”
Glancing up from the empty glass, Kade saw Donovan studying him, his brow drawn in a slight frown. He seemed genuinely interested in what Kade would say.
Kade wasn’t the type to spill his guts, not even to his brother, but he suddenly had the urge to talk. Maybe it was the vodka, maybe it was the beating he’d taken last night. Either way, Donovan felt like someone who’d listen, and maybe he’d have some advice.
“There’s this girl,” he said, glancing away from Donovan and staring at nothing. Kathleen’s face swam in his mind’s eye. He spoke without thinking. “She’s…beautiful. Sweet. Nice. Way too fucking nice. I can’t stop thinking about her. It’s an obsession I can’t seem to kick. I want to be with her, not just fuck her, but really talk to her, you know? Listen to her tell me about her shitty day at work or the joke someone told her. Smell her perfume on my clothes at the end of the day and know she’ll be there when I wake up in the morning. And it’s insane, it’s crazy, but I can’t stop imagining it, picturing it inside my head…” Kade’s voice trailed away as he realized he’d probably said way too much. He glanced back at Donovan, who now sported a shit-eating grin.
“What’s so funny?” Kade asked.
Donovan chuckled. “Never thought I’d live to see the day, man. Kade Dennon. Love struck.”
Kade snorted, hiding the note of panic that flared inside him at the word love. “Fuck that shit.” He signaled the bartender for another round. “I just need to get laid, that’s all.”
Donovan frowned in mock seriousness. “Yeah, really? So tell me, how long has it been? A few weeks? Months? Must’ve been a while if she’s affecting you this much.”
The bartender set a new glass in front of Kade. “Three days,” he muttered, throwing back the shot as Donovan laughed out loud.
“Nice,” he said, still smiling. “And what was her name again?”
“What’s your fucking point?” Kade retorted. He had no fucking idea what the girl’s name in Buffalo had been.
Donovan raised his hands slightly, palms out. “Nothing. I have no point.” He grinned. “Except that you’re drinking before noon, waxing poetic about a girl, and have a dreamy look in your eyes.”
“You’re an asshole,” Kade said without heat. Donovan laughed again. “I do not have a ‘dreamy look’ in my eyes.”
Donovan shrugged, still chuckling. “Whatever you
say, but I’m starting the pool on wedding dates.”
Now it was Kade’s turn to laugh, though his held more bitterness than humor. “Yeah, because a girl like that would marry a dick like me. Right.”
Suddenly Donovan wasn’t laughing anymore. He hesitated, then said, “Man, I know you don’t like to talk about it. But it wasn’t your fault. No one blames you.”
There weren’t many who could stand up to the kind of glare Kade was sending Donovan’s way, but he didn’t flinch.
“You got part of that right,” Kade said. “I don’t want to talk about it.”
“You don’t have to listen to me, read the files, read the reports. They did an investigation and found nothing wrong—”
“Are you done?” Kade interrupted.
Donovan sighed in defeat. “Yeah, I’m done.” His eyes narrowed and he leaned forward. “Just tell me one thing—this case you’re on with the woman being threatened, the one you’ve been having me send the uniforms over to keep an eye on—is it her?”
When Kade didn’t answer, Donovan gave a short nod. “I’m going to step up the forensics on that eye, see if we can come up with anything for you. If you need more uniforms, just let me know.”
“Thanks. I owe you one.”
Donovan left, but Kade barely noticed. He was lost—lost in the drag of his memories.
It was a warm spring evening, and Kade was glad he’d managed a couple of days off from his job with the FBI to stop in Indy to visit his brother. Blane had only just returned from his last deployment three weeks ago and Kade had yet to see him.
Parking his car, he hopped out and went around back to enter through the kitchen of Blane’s house. Although Kade himself had called this place home since he was ten years old, inwardly he still referred to it as Blane’s. The old man had bought the place and would’ve turned over in his grave if he’d known Kade had lived there. Not that Kade gave a shit.
“Hey, Mona,” Kade said, greeting the woman standing over the stove stirring a pot of something that smelled mouthwatering. He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek.
“It’s about time you made it home,” she said, though the reprimand in her voice was softened by her smile.
“Well, if you’d told me you were making your world famous homemade chicken and dumplings, I’d have come sooner,” Kade teased. “Where’s Blane?”
Mona’s face clouded, her smile fading. “He’s in the den,” she said. “But make sure you holler first, let him know you’re coming.”
Kade quirked an eyebrow in question as he snagged a chocolate-chip cookie off the rack where over a dozen of them sat cooling.
“Those will ruin your dinner,” Mona scolded, half-heartedly reaching to take it from him. Kade evaded her easily, grinning as he shoved it in his mouth and grabbed two more.
“They’re fabulous,” he mumbled, rolling his eyes heavenward, mouth full of gooey cookie.
Mona huffed in exaggerated frustration, her smile indulgent.
“How long are you staying?” she asked.
“I’ve only got the weekend,” Kade replied.
Mona looked disappointed at this, but said nothing more as Kade left the kitchen and headed down the hall. He shoved the two cookies in his mouth as he pushed open the door to the den.
Then immediately dove to the ground as Blane swung a Glock in his direction.
Kade froze, gazing up at Blane, who looked as surprised to see him as Kade was to see a gun pointed at his head. Gingerly, Kade got to his feet, swallowing the cookies in one lump.
“I’d say welcome home, brother,” Kade said, “but what the fuck?”
“You startled me,” Blane said, putting the Glock back in the holster at his side.
“So you pull a gun on me?” Kade asked.
Blane shrugged. “Sorry. Reflex.”
And Kade realized why Mona had warned him.
His brows furrowed as he walked over to one of the leather wingback chairs by Blane’s desk, sinking into its cool confines.
“So how do you like being back?” he asked. Blane had been deployed many times over the past several years, but this last one had been longer than the others, manpower seeming to be in short supply.
“It’s taking some getting used to,” Blane admitted, sitting in the chair opposite Kade. “But it’s good to be home.” His skin was a dark bronze, his hair burnished gold from the desert sun.
Kade abruptly realized that Blane looked…older. It was sobering. He’d tried not to think very much about all that Blane was enduring while overseas, but looking at him now, it was obvious the years in combat had taken their toll.
He forced a careless smile. “Well, your little brother’s come to visit. Let’s go paint the town.”
Blane grinned, a spark coming back into his eyes. “It’ll have to wait until after dinner. Mona will be pissed if we skip out on her chicken and dumplings.”
Three hours later, he and Blane were parking the Jaguar outside a club downtown. It wasn’t the nicest of places, the clientele rough and tumble, but it wasn’t a dive either. Kade paid the cover and snagged a table in the corner. He sat on one barstool while Blane took the other.
Signaling for a cocktail waitress, Kade asked, “So have you been to see Kandi yet?”
Blane shrugged, his gaze flitting around the room. “Once,” he said.
A waitress came by and Kade ordered two beers and four shots. When he left, he said, “Thought you and her would be settling down sometime soon. Start poppin’ out little blond brats.” He grinned at the look Blane shot him.
“She wants to, but I’m not ready for that,” Blane said with a snort, taking a long pull of the beer the waitress sat in front of him. She wasn’t a bad looking brunette and Kade noticed Blane eyed her ass as she walked away.
“To my big brother,” Kade said, picking up one of the shots. “Hail the conquering hero and shit.”
Blane huffed a laugh, downing the shot with Kade before they finished off the second one. The beer was a nice, cool chaser to the whiskey burning a path to Kade’s stomach. He signaled the waitress for another round.
Kade knew he and Blane made a striking pair and more than a few interested female gazes were sent their direction. Blane’s golden boy good looks were polar opposite to Kade’s inky black hair and bad boy demeanor. The part of Blane that had always made people somewhat wary of him had been honed to a steel edge by the SEALs, which would no doubt attract the women like candy.
While Blane and Kade’s outward appearance might have been dissimilar, they both now carried an aura of danger. It was in the way Blane sat in the chair, seemingly at ease, but his eyes were constantly moving and his fingers played with the beer bottle, as though ready at any moment to turn it into a jagged weapon. The FBI training Kade had been given had made his instincts razor sharp. Though he’d convinced Blane to leave his gun in the car, Kade had a gun strapped to his ankle. He had learned to never, ever, be without a weapon.
Forty minutes and six shots later, Kade was studying the bar. Two women in the corner caught his eye. One was a blonde, the other a brunette. Two men were flirting with them, but the girls kept shooting looks at him and Blane, whispering to each other. Giving them a lopsided smirk, Kade crooked his finger, beckoning them.
“What are you doing?” Blane asked as the two girls started heading their way, leaving behind the two guys they’d been talking to.
“Entertainment,” Kade said simply, setting aside his beer. He was well on his way to drunk, and by the look in Blane’s eyes, so was he.
“I’m not in the mood,” Blane said.
“Bullshit,” Kade shot back. “You need to get laid. And from what I’ve seen, the sooner, the better.”
The girls arrived then and Kade randomly picked the blonde.
“Hi,” she said. “I’m—”
“Beautiful,” Kade interrupted smoothly. Names were unnecessary. She smiled. Kade slid his hands around her waist, his hands gliding under the semi-transparent shirt she wor
e to touch her skin. Pulling her between his spread knees, he leaned forward to whisper in her ear.
“My buddy and I could buy you and your friend a drink and waste time playing the game like those losers you were just with. Or we can get out of here, get a room, and I can spend the next few hours making you come so hard you’ll forget every other man who’s ever fucked you.”
She sucked in her breath, her brown eyes widening, then she smiled and nudged her friend. They exchanged looks.
“I hope you’re not all talk,” the blonde said.
Kade’s answering smirk spoke for itself. He tossed some bills on the table. “Let’s go,” he said to Blane.
“Just a minute, dickhead.”
Kade turned to see the two guys had approached them. Their stance was belligerent. The one who’d spoken was in front, his friend standing behind him and off to the side, backing him up.
Kade stepped into the guy’s personal space. They were the same height. “‘Just a minute is your problem,” he said with a twisted sneer. “I’m guessing the ladies want things to last a bit longer. I hear there’s medication that can help with that, not that I know from personal experience.”
Kade turned away just as the guy grabbed onto his arm.
“Go fuck yourself,” the guy said. “We saw them first.”
Spinning around, Kade grabbed the guy’s wrist, broke his hold, then twisted his arm around behind his back, using the momentum to plaster the guy face first on the bar table he and Blane had just vacated. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Blane step up to the remaining dude, who didn’t look like he was going to try to bypass Blane to help his buddy anytime soon.
Leaning down, Kade whispered in the guy’s ear. “You may have seen them first, but we’ll be fucking them first. Have a nice night. Dickhead.”
Abruptly releasing him, Kade stepped back. Stopping at the bar, Kade exchanged a hundred for a two fresh bottles of Jack before leading the way outside. Blane brought up the rear behind the two girls tottering on their high heels, giggling with each other. With a sharp whistle, Kade summoned a passing cab and they piled in the back. Giving the name of a nearby hotel, Kade pulled the blonde onto his lap.