Turning Point (The Kathleen Turner Series) (29 page)

“Take it easy,” Blane admonished, his arm tightening.

Both Chance and Kade started forward, as though to catch me if I fell.

I threw up a hand to ward them off. “I’m fine.”

Sirens wailed in the distance. “You two get out of here,” Chance ordered. “And take her with you. I’ll deal with the police, and pray this little rescue operation hasn’t blown my cover all to hell.”

Blane didn’t respond, his attention still focused on me. “You okay to walk?” he asked.

I nodded.

Kade tossed my keys to Chance. “Take her car back to her apartment when you’re done.”

In a quicker amount of time than I could believe, Blane had hustled me to his car, with Kade walking closely at my side. Once I was ensconced in the passenger seat, Blane turned to Kade.

“I’ve got her,” he said.

“So I see,” Kade replied dryly. “I’ll come along for the ride.” He slid into the backseat.

Blane was left with no choice but to shut my door and round the car to get in the driver’s side.

The tension in the car was thick. Blane and Kade were both silent as Blane drove. I reflected grimly that this was
the second time in as many days that I was locked in a confined space with the two of them. It wasn’t any more appealing now than it had been last night.

I realized Blane was driving to his house. “Why aren’t you taking me home?” I asked.

“You got hit in the head,” he replied. “I should be taking you to a hospital…”

He glanced at me. I was already shaking my head. “But I know you won’t go. So someone needs to keep an eye on you tonight.”

“I volunteer,” Kade piped in. “Especially if she’s going to wear that.”

I shot him a glare. The last thing I needed, or wanted, was him antagonizing Blane.

Kade feigned innocence. “What? Hey, it’s better than what you wore in Denver.”

In my peripheral vision, I saw Blane’s hands tighten on the steering wheel. If I could have climbed over the seat and strangled Kade, I gladly would have.

“Just take me home,” I told Blane. “Chance will be there soon. He’ll stay with me.”

Silence.

“Two men aren’t enough, princess? You need a third?”

“What the fuck, Kade!” Blane exploded. “Give it a rest!”

I stared at them. “Is that what you think?”

When neither of them answered, anger flared. “Chance is my cousin,” I bit out. “He didn’t want me to tell either one of you because he doesn’t trust you.”

“Your cousin is William Turner,” Blane argued. “Not Chance.”

Kade groaned, laying his head back against the seat. “Now I remember. Chance. That’s his middle name.”

“He hates the name William,” I confirmed.

“Well, now don’t I feel like a douche,” Kade groused.

My lips twitched into a smile in spite of myself.

Blane glanced my way, and our eyes caught. “You could’ve told me,” he said softly.

“Chance knows you’re defending Summers,” I said with a small shrug.

Blane didn’t reply, the stiff set of his body a reminder of the gulf between us when it came to this case.

“Matt Summers was with those women tonight,” I said. “Did I mention that?”

That got Blane’s attention.

“What the hell are you talking about?” Kade asked.

“Matt Summers was in the Champagne Room with some other men and those drugged women at the club,” I explained. “I went inside—”

“You what?” exclaimed Blane.

“And he hit on me,” I finished, ignoring Blane’s interruption. “If you want to call it as nice a term as that.”

We pulled into Blane’s driveway and he stopped the car with a jerk and turned to me. “And you can’t possibly understand why I don’t want you doing this job anymore?” he bit out. “Why I no longer want to pay you to risk your life? You think I want you to watch someone get raped right in front of you? Know that some guy like Matt could just grab you, force you, anytime they want?”

“Then why the hell are you trying to get that bastard off?” I yelled back.

“I’m doing what I have to do! If I don’t get Matt off,
you
go to jail!”

I went utterly still, stunned. “What are you talking about?”

“David Summers found out about what happened in Chicago, between you and Stephen Avery. His prints were in your room and yours in his. If I don’t get Matt off for him, he’s going to give it to the police. You’ll be charged with murder.

“So don’t tell me what I should or shouldn’t do, what’s right or wrong,” he bit out. “I’ll do what I have to do.”

I paled in the face of his anger and this new information. My hand shook as I grappled with the door handle, practically falling out of the car in my haste. Then Kade was there, holding me upright.

“Quit fucking yelling at her,” he growled at Blane, who’d gotten out and rounded the car.

“This is all your fault.” Blane pushed his finger into Kade’s chest.

“Oh really.” Kade got up in Blane’s face. “So what should I have done then, brother? She was naked. Avery was suffocating her while he whipped her with a fucking belt. And that was after I got there. God knows what he did before.”

All the blood rushed from my face and I threw out a hand on the car, steadying my suddenly weak knees. “Kade, stop,” I implored him, my voice feeble in my own ears. Just as quickly as I’d gone pale, heat infused my face at what he was divulging to Blane, the embarrassment and shame of what had happened with Avery shredding my dignity.

Neither of them seemed to hear me. Blane looked murderous, his face like granite and his jaw locked tight. Kade just looked disgusted.

“So don’t tell me about whose fault this is,” he snarled at Blane. “It’s Avery’s fucking fault. If I hadn’t been there, she’d be dead. But if you’re anxious to spread blame, I’d look in the mirror. If you didn’t have the need to be the fucking hero all the time, you wouldn’t have made the deal with Summers.”

“You’d rather she be arrested for murder?” Blane spat back.

I felt close to hyperventilating. I was breathing too fast, trying to keep up with what Blane had said about the deal he’d made with Summers. Now it all made sense, why he had taken the case. But Blane and Kade were caught up fighting with each other, and the hostility between them was white-hot and dangerous.

I didn’t know what to do, how to get them to dial it back. They shouldn’t be fighting, they were on the same side. So although it left a sour taste in my mouth, I did the only thing I could think of that would tear their attention away from each other.

Pushing myself away from the car, I got close to them, one hand resting on each of their chests as I insinuated myself between them. They both looked at me, seeming almost surprised.

“Please,” I implored. “I don’t feel well. I really need to lie down. Help me inside?”

The ploy had the desired result. Blane immediately wrapped an arm around my waist, and Kade stepped back.

“Would you get my purse, please?” I asked Kade.

His lips twitched as he did as I requested, and I had the feeling both of them knew exactly what I was doing. Not that I cared. They’d stopped looking like they were going to rip each other apart, and that was all that mattered.

Once we were inside, I turned to Blane. “I want to change.”

He said nothing, just watched me as I collected my purse and climbed the stairs. I gratefully shed the skintight jeans and corset, vowing to burn them at some point, and pulled on a T-shirt and pair of yoga pants that I kept in the closet. The cut on my head wasn’t as bad as it had seemed. After washing my face and combing out my hair, I felt nearly like myself again, and ready to face the two men waiting for me downstairs.

I’d guessed correctly on their location and activity, as I found both of them in the library, each with a stiff drink in hand. Kade was in an elegant sprawl on the leather couch, while Blane stood, brooding as he stared at the fire dancing merrily in the grate.

I opted to curl up in the leather wingback chair, tucking my bare feet under me. The fire gave off a cozy warmth that relaxed my tense muscles. I breathed a tired sigh.

Blane approached to stand over me and run the back of his knuckles down my cheek. “Feel better?” he asked.

I nodded, too worn out to speak. The adrenaline rush from earlier had worn off and I found myself slumping in the chair, exhaustion hitting me hard. Blane pulled a blanket off the couch, unfolded it, and draped it over me.

“I’m sorry,” I murmured. Guilt about what Blane was going through, what he’d been dealing with on my behalf, lay
heavy on me. Summers was blackmailing him, and I was the cause.

“Don’t be,” Blane replied quietly. “I should have told you.”

That seemed to be a recurring theme, but I was too tired to go into all that. My eyes were heavy and my blinks were slow.

Blane stepped away and my eyes met Kade’s, who was staring intently at me from where he sat. I couldn’t decipher the look in his eyes, but neither could I look away.

My eyes drifted shut and I fell into the quiet lethargy that presages slumber, where everything has a dreamlike quality and I couldn’t tell if I was awake or asleep. The voices of Blane and Kade washed over me as they quietly spoke, the tones and lilts of their conversation comforting me, underscored by the crackling of the fire.

There was a buzzing and the rustle of clothes.

“A client texted me. I need to go out for a while,” Blane said.

“Go. I’ll watch her.”

“I should take her upstairs.”

“You’ll wake her.”

“She looks uncomfortable.”

“She’s fine. Go do what you gotta do.”

A sigh. “All right. Hopefully, I won’t be long.”

Silence.

“Kade… I shouldn’t have said that. Earlier. I never knew… she never told me… what happened with Avery. Not specifically. I was wrong to blame you.”

“You would’ve killed him, too, if you’d been there.”

More silence.

“She cares about you, you know. Cares what happens to you, that you’re safe.”

“Yeah.”

“You don’t have many friends.”

“No.”

“Then I’ll tell you what you told me. Don’t fuck it up.”

There was quiet again, broken only by the rustling of cloth and the softness of footsteps on carpet, then a more complete quiet. I sank deeper into slumber.

When I woke, it was still dark, the fire having burned down to mere embers and casting only a dim glow around the room. Sitting up, I felt a crick in my neck that made me groan.

“What’s wrong?” Kade was there, crouching down next to me.

“Nothing,” I replied blearily, rubbing my neck. “Just scrunched.”

“I’ll help you upstairs.” He got to his feet and lifted me in his arms. Instinctively I looped my arms around his neck.

“What are you doing?” I asked, chagrined. “Put me down. I can walk.”

“I know you can.” He headed out of the room and to the stairs.

“I don’t need you to carry me,” I insisted.

“I need to.”

His simple reply took me aback, and I gazed up at him. He didn’t look at me, his eyes focused on the path up the stairs and down the darkened hallway to my room. I had no
choice but to accept his assistance, resting my head against his shoulder as he walked.

When he reached my bedroom, he placed me gently on the bed and pulled a blanket up over me. Then he lay down beside me, bending an arm behind his head and staring up at the ceiling.

I turned on my side to face him. “Thank you,” I said.

“No worries.”

Something was wrong, different. I stared at him, trying to puzzle out what it was.

“Are you still mad at me?” I asked.

“I was never mad at you.”

He was quiet then, and I didn’t know what to say either, so I remained silent.

“Are you my friend?” he asked.

The question surprised me. “Of course I’m your friend. Why wouldn’t I be?”

Kade turned to look at me, his eyes glittering in the ambient light from the window. “Because of who I am. You can’t separate what you do from who you are, and you were right. My hands are steeped in blood, and it’s never going to go away.”

My heart broke for him. “You’re not a bad person.”

“You wouldn’t know,” Kade argued. “You see only the good in people, or what you think is good. There’s no good in me. Not anymore.”

“That’s not true,” I protested. “I know it’s not.”

Kade turned away, his eyes sliding shut. “Sometimes I wish I could turn back the clock, make different decisions,” he murmured. “But some things are unavoidable, and can’t be undone.”

His words troubled me. After a few moments, I asked, “Kade?”

“Hmm?”

“Why did you leave the FBI?”

His eyes opened and his head turned my way. “You really wanna know?”

I nodded.

He sighed and turned back to stare at the ceiling again. “Because of Blane.”

That was definitely not the answer I’d been expecting. “Blane?”

“He got back from deployment, and it was rough on him for a while, the transition. All the pent-up aggression that’s great for when you’re at war doesn’t translate so well to civilian life. I was on the road a lot, so I wasn’t around. It took me a little while to see the problem. Blane’s too proud to ask for help. I quit so I could be with him when he needed me. God knows he’d been there for me. It was the least I could do.”