Point of No Return (27 page)

“Are you all right?” he asked.

I nodded, giving him a wan smile. “Fine.” So much for trying to look sexy. Knowing I’d just thrown up in a gas station bathroom was enough to put any man off.

It seemed everything I tried to say or do to bring Kade closer to me was backfiring. All the misguided effort was depressing and demoralizing. And if I thought the day couldn’t get any worse, I was way wrong.

Even though I had nothing in my stomach, I had to ask Kade to stop four more times before we finally hit the outskirts of DC. We’d gone through a drive-thru somewhere in Ohio around midday, but the smell of grease had been enough to send me hurtling from the car. Fortunately, Kade had made short work of his meal by the time I returned. He’d tried to get me to eat, but just the thought of trying to get something down had turned my stomach.

I was miserable and weak by the time Kade pulled into a motel parking lot. It was one of those places I always teased him about, though that was the last thing I felt like doing at the moment. I just wanted to lie down on something stationary, like a bed, and take off the damn jeans, which I’d decided I would burn at the earliest opportunity.

I waited in the car for Kade to rent a room, my head lolling against the headrest. I dozed, jerking awake when he opened the car door. He drove across the lot to one of the rooms and parked again. I saw Blane park a space or two down from us.

Kade got out of the car, then met Blane and handed him a key. I couldn’t hear what they were saying, but Kade was there at the car door as I opened it. I slung my purse over my shoulder. My hands were shaking and it took a lot of effort just to stand. But I was highly motivated. A bed was mere yards away. I just had to make it inside, then I could collapse.

I took a step, only to have Kade sweep me up in his arms.

“I’ve got you,” he said softly, and I was too tired to argue. I rested my head against his shoulder as he walked to the motel room door, which Blane was holding open. A moment later, Kade deposited me on one of the two beds. Slipping its strap from my shoulder, he set my purse aside, then took off my sandals.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I didn’t realize I’d get carsick.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said, his fingers brushing my cheek. “Blane went to get some things for you. Just rest.”

I closed my eyes, his touch comforting me, and soon I was asleep.

When I woke, night had fallen, and I felt a little better, albeit weak and thirsty. I sat up, glancing around.

Kade stood from where he’d been lying on the other bed and sat down next to me.

“Feel any better?” he asked.

I nodded. “What time is it?”

“Elevenish,” he replied. He grabbed a bottled sports drink from the table between the two beds and twisted the cap off. “Here. Can you drink this?”

I nodded, taking it from him. It tasted good and I emptied the bottle in a few big gulps. The gnawing pit in my stomach eased a bit.

“Where are Blane and Branna?” I asked.

“Next door.”

I wondered how
that
was going.

“I’ve got to get out of these jeans,” I muttered. I lay back on the bed and undid the button and zipper. My stomach immediately felt ten times better. Okay, lesson learned.

I peeled the denim down over my hips and slid the fabric lower, off my legs, then kicked the hated jeans onto the floor.

“Christ, Kathleen!” Kade exclaimed, pushing me onto my back and yanking up my shirt.

I glanced down and winced. Yeah, the jeans had left red marks and indentations. Nice.

“What the fuck did you wear those for if they’re too tight?” Kade asked. “Is that why you’ve been puking all day?”

Face flaming, I pushed his hands away and let my shirt drop, covering my abdomen. “She said I was fat, okay?” I retorted. Yes, I knew I’d been stupid. I didn’t need Kade to point it out. “And she’s right, because my shorts didn’t fit yesterday and I used to be able to zip these jeans, but now I just want my stretchy pants
. . .
” Suddenly, I was bawling.

Kade looked at me like I was crazy, which didn’t help. I turned away from him, but he reached out and rolled me back.

“You’re insane,” he said, brushing tears from my cheeks, “and if I’d known those ridiculous jeans were doing this to you all day, I’d have taken them off you myself.”

My tears dried up as quickly as they’d come. God, the mood swings were killing me. But we were in a motel, just me and Kade, and maybe I could work this to my advantage.

“I’d love to brush my teeth and have a shower,” I said hopefully.

Kade took the bait immediately. “I can help with that,” he said. He gathered some things from my suitcase and helped me into the bathroom.

I brushed my teeth and hair, stripped, and stepped under the hot spray of water. After washing, I called out for Kade, who was instantly at the door.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

I poked my wet head out from behind the limp shower curtain. “I’m feeling really weak,” I said, which wasn’t too far from the truth. “Will you help me? I don’t want to fall.”

Kade’s eyes narrowed, but I just gazed innocently back at him. Finally, he took three steps forward until he was right there in front of me.

Steam from the shower billowed around us. Feeling brave, I pushed the curtain aside. Kade’s gaze immediately dropped, skating down my body.

“You’ll get your clothes wet,” I said, tugging his shirt free of his jeans and pulling it off over his head. My hands settled on his chest, reaching up to curl around his shoulders. To my instant gratification, his palms lifted to cup my breasts, the calloused pads of his thumbs brushing the tips.

“You really think I don’t know what you’re doing?” his voice rasped gently in my ear.

I was working on his belt and since my brain had decided it could really only concentrate on one thing at a time, my “Hmm?” reply was a bit lackluster. His hands felt amazing on me, my breasts hypersensitive to the slightest touch.

Kade’s lips grazed my neck and I gasped, a moan clawing its way up my throat.

“Having sex isn’t going to convince me to stick around, princess,” Kade said against my skin. “I’m like poison to you. A death trap.”

“Not true,” I managed, burying my fingers in his inky-black hair. His mouth closed over a nipple and I promptly lost my train of thought. Kade was my fallen angel, had always been. My protector. My dark knight in black armor. I just had to convince him.

“I need you,” I breathed. “Don’t you see that?”

A loud knock on the motel door startled me. It seemed that answering it was the last thing Kade wanted to do, and whoever it was had to knock hard again before he reluctantly pulled away from me. His hair and chest were damp from my hands and the shower mist, and he didn’t bother putting his shirt back on as he left the bathroom.

I hurriedly turned off the water and grabbed one of the thin towels, wrapping it around me before cracking the bathroom door and peeking through.

Blane and Branna stood in the room. Peachy. All three glanced my way.

“Blane and I need to go check out George’s residence,” Kade said, buttoning a fresh shirt he’d put on. “Branna’s going to stay with you.”

“No way,” I said. “I’m going, too. You are not leaving me here with her like some sort of babysitter.” I didn’t even bother looking Branna’s way.

“Afraid, sweetie?” Branna piped in. The three of us ignored her.

Kade considered me for a moment, then gave a little nod. “Fine. Get dressed.”

All three went out the door and I set a new record for how fast I got dressed. My hair was wet, so I left it loose, hoping it would dry on the way to dead George’s former home. Soon, I was outside, too.

“Let’s go,” Kade said, leading me to his car. He got in the front seat while Blane held the passenger seat forward for Branna to slide into the backseat. Blane looked at me and I took the hint, stepping past him to climb in the back next to Branna, leaving the front passenger seat for Blane. As soon as the door shut, Kade pulled out of the lot.

C
HAPTER
T
HIRTEEN

W
ell, isn’t this cozy?” Branna said in the silence. No one replied. She turned to me and I stiffened. “So tell me, sweetie, do you plan on playing the damsel in distress indefinitely?”

“Excuse me?” I asked, my eyes narrowing.

“Surely the two of them must tire of it,” she kept going. “It seems Blane already has. Kade surely isn’t far behind. Do you have any other tricks up your sleeve?”

“Why? Need some tips?” I asked, white-hot anger singeing my veins, even as I wondered how she’d found out about Blane and me.

Kade interrupted our bitch match. “Ladies, for fuck’s sake. Give it a rest.”

I bit my tongue to keep from saying, “She started it.”

After a few minutes of silence, Branna spoke up again. This time, thankfully, her words weren’t directed at me.

“What’s the plan tonight?” she asked Kade.

“We’re going to check things out,” Kade replied. “Try the nice approach first, see if it works.”

“And if it doesn’t?” I asked.

His eyes met mine in the rearview mirror. “Then tomorrow night we’ll do the not-so-nice approach.”

I looked away as Blane said, “Sarah doesn’t need to be harmed for us to get what we want, Kade.”

“How do you two know each other again?” Branna interrupted. “Kade, how in the hell did you hook up with a slimy politician? Or is it the fabulous vagina sitting next to me that brought you two together?”

“You mean he never told you?” I asked, feigning shock. “Wow. I thought you two were
. . .
closer than that.” I smiled and shrugged. “Guess not.”

That pushed some buttons.

“What the fuck, Kade—” she spluttered.

“Oh my God, he’s my brother, Branna,” Kade said in exasperation. “I’m about to dump both your asses on the sidewalk and let you fight it out.”

But the revelation that Kade had a brother was enough to silence Branna. Her expression looked stunned, hurt. Then she turned and gazed out the window and didn’t say another word.

I almost felt bad for her.

We approached a two-story brick mansion in a neighborhood filled with them. Lights glowed in some of the windows. Kade pulled up alongside the curb in front of the house and parked.

“I think it’d be best if Kat and I go talk to her,” Blane said, surprising me. “She knows me and she’s met Kat. A woman there might make her feel more like opening up. And Kat’s good at getting people to talk and trust her.” The last was said matter-of-factly. I thought it was the first time Blane had ever said something like that about me.

Kade glanced back at me, then nodded. “You have your gun?” he asked Blane.

“Always.”

With that, Blane and I got out of the car and I followed him up the long walk to the colonial-style front door. Reaching out, he took my hand, threading our fingers together. I nervously combed a hand through my hair, now nearly dry.

“Branna’s a lot like Kade,” Blane said out of the blue. I glanced up at him and our eyes caught. “Damaged. I’m guessing she’s been through some of the same shit he has.”

“It’s not my story to tell,” I replied. “You’d have to ask her, but yeah, I think so.”

Blane gave a curt nod but said nothing more as we stepped up onto the porch. Reaching out, he rang the doorbell. Though it was nearing ten o’clock, the door swung open quickly, revealing a butler.

“May I help you?” he asked.

Blane told him his name and asked to see Sarah. We were led into a sitting room that looked like no one ever really sat in it. I perched gingerly on the edge of an antique couch, glancing around at the decor, which seemed straight out of a European magazine. Blane remained standing, energy and purpose seeming to radiate from him as he paced.

“Blane? Blane Kirk?”

I glanced up to see Sarah Bradshaw entering the room, her brows furrowed in confusion as she inspected Blane.

“What on earth are you doing here? And at this hour?”

Blane smiled softly, taking both of her hands in his and pressing a kiss to her cheek. “Good to see you, Sarah.”

I got to my feet too as Blane gestured my way. “You remember Kathleen, don’t you?”

Good manners bred into her had Sarah sending an artificial smile my way and reaching out to clasp hands with me. “Of course,” she said, which may or may not have been the truth. We’d met very briefly at a victory dinner for Senator Keaston, and she’d barely spared me a glance then.

“Please, sit down,” Sarah said, gracefully sinking into a Queen Anne–style chair opposite the couch. Blane took a seat on the couch next to me.

“I heard about George,” he said, leaning forward, elbows braced on his knees. “And I’m sorry for your loss.”

Sarah’s smile was tinged with bitterness. “Thank you, Blane, but you and I both know George wasn’t a good man. He did a lot of things to a lot of people. It was bound to catch up to him.”

I was surprised at how matter-of-fact she was, but I guess you couldn’t live long in Washington without being disillusioned.

“Speaking of which,” Blane said, “it’s late, so I’ll get to the point of our visit.”

“I would appreciate that,” Sarah said.

“George worked for Robert for a long time,” Blane said. “Lately, Robert’s gotten
. . .
a little out of hand—”

“He’s a megalomaniac,” Sarah interrupted.

“Yes,” Blane confirmed. “He’s come after me, after Kathleen. She was nearly killed, twice, because of Robert.” Sarah’s eyes flicked toward me, then back to Blane. “I need something I can use, something that’ll keep him in line, and I thought you might know if George had anything like that. Maybe told you anything that might help me.”

“Why should I tell you that?” Sarah asked. “If Robert finds out I helped you, I’ll be dead. And how can I trust you? You’re related to him. For all I know, this is some test to make sure I’ll keep his secrets as well as my husband did.”

“This isn’t a test,” Blane said.

“And how do I know that?”

I figured it was my turn to chime in. “Mrs. Bradshaw,” I said, drawing her attention toward me, “a few months ago, Senator Keaston had me taken. Taken by people whose job it was to make sure I was never seen or heard from again. Not to be killed, but to be sold into human slavery, into sex trafficking. My crime? Falling in love with Blane. If not for Blane
. . .
” I turned to look at him, my hand reaching out. He clasped my hand in both of his. “If not for Blane,” I continued, looking back to Sarah, “I wouldn’t be here now. This isn’t a test. This is Blane asking you for help in taking down a very dangerous man.”

Sarah seemed to weigh my words, meeting my eyes steadily.
I didn’t say anything more, just waited. After a moment, she spoke.

“There’s a man,” she said, “someone new. I could tell George wanted to be real hush-hush about it, but I know he was getting money from him. I don’t know how or why, just that the campaign coffers have received huge influxes in the past six months.”

“Do you know anything about this man?” Blane asked.

Sarah shrugged. “Very little. He came by the house one night, which made George angry. From then on, they met outside the house. I followed George once. I was worried about him, wondering what he’d gotten himself mixed up in. He went to this house, here.” She got up and went to one of the tables, pulling paper and a pen out of a drawer, then jotting something down and handing the paper to Blane. “Here’s the address. The man, he was tall, over six feet, and broad, with dark hair, a goatee, and dark eyes. He spoke with a Russian accent.”

“You’re sure?” Blane asked.

Sarah nodded. “I only caught part of a name, and I don’t know if it’s his first or last.”

“What is it?”

“Lazaroff.”

“Well, at least we have a name,” Kade said, taking a drink of the coffee the waitress had just poured for him.

We were in a late-night diner in a part of DC that had me questioning the wisdom of us stopping for dinner, no matter how hungry I was.

I sat across from Kade in the booth, Blane by my side. I toyed with the Pepsi I’d ordered.

“Yeah, but does it strike any bells?” Blane replied.

“This address,” Branna interrupted. “I’ve heard of it. Russians run an illegal gambling joint there and a brothel. Strictly high rollers only.”

“In the heart of DC?” Kade asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Some kind of deal with the Russian consulate,” Branna replied with a shrug. “Cops look the other way. The Russians get a taste of the homeland when they want to and occasionally a piece of a US politician.”

“You think George gambled?” I asked Blane. “Or Robert?”

Blane shook his head. “Maybe this was just Lazaroff’s home base. I don’t see Robert being stupid enough to indebt himself in gambling. He’s smarter than that.”

“We need to get in there tomorrow night and find this guy,” Kade said just as the waitress reappeared with our meals.

I dug into the blueberry pancakes I’d ordered, ignoring the fact that Branna had gotten a salad. It seemed everyone was hungry and conversation ceased

“I can find out more about Lazaroff,” Branna said after a few minutes. “I have someone I can call tomorrow. They might meet with me.”

“Might?” Blane asked.

Branna shrugged. “I shot him the last time I saw him, but it was just a flesh wound. I’m sure he’ll have gotten over it by now.”

Blane stopped chewing for a moment, then glanced at Kade, who hadn’t batted an eye at this information.

“You’re just going to let her go see some guy she shot who may or may not want revenge?” Blane asked.

Kade looked up from the Denver omelet he was eating just as Branna spoke.

“Excuse me, did you say ‘let her’?” Branna said, her tone making it clear exactly what she thought of that. “Need I remind you that I handed you your ass just twenty-four hours ago? I can take care of myself.”

“No, Blane’s right,” Kade said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “We shouldn’t split up, even if it’s just for intel. I’ll go with you.”

“You need to stay with Kathleen,” Blane said. “I’ll go with Branna.”

“Why does he have to stay with her?” Branna asked, sending a glare my way. “If someone’s watching my back, I’d prefer he not be troubled by things like morals and ethics.”

“I’m a lawyer,” Blane retorted. “Morals and ethics aren’t a problem.”

I watched the two of them continue to spar as I finished my pancakes. My brow furrowed, as it seemed they were only aware of each other. Surely, Blane wasn’t
. . .
attracted to Branna? The thought tumbled through my mind like a stray paper caught in the wind.

We were walking to the car when Branna suddenly asked me, “You’re not going to puke all over the backseat, are you?”

“No,” I said shortly. “But if I do, I’ll be sure to aim it your direction.”

“Don’t even breathe on me,” she scoffed. “I certainly don’t want what you have.”

I stopped at the car, turning to look at her incredulously. I grabbed Kade’s sleeve. “You didn’t tell her?” I was hurt. What the hell had he told her last night in my kitchen if not that I was carrying his baby?

Kade frowned, huffing out a breath as he studied me.

“Didn’t tell me what?” Branna asked.

My eyes were locked with Kade’s. “Are you just going to leave and pretend this never happened?” My words were quiet, but I couldn’t keep the pain and accusation out of them.

I could feel myself on the verge of breaking down, so I quickly turned away, jerking open the car door and climbing inside. I could still hear Branna.

“What is it?” she asked again. “Kade, tell me what’s going on. What’s wrong with—”

“Kathleen’s pregnant,” he interrupted her.

Branna was silent for a moment. “I take it congratulations are in order,” she said stiffly.

I couldn’t hear if Kade said anything, because the next thing I knew, she was climbing in beside me. Blane had already taken the front seat and Kade got behind the wheel without a word.

To say that the drive to the motel was awkward would be an understatement. Kade tried to meet my eyes in the rearview mirror numerous times, but I avoided looking at it.