What Lies Within (4 page)

His mouth tipped. Okay. Message received. Stay out of it. Angel was so sure of herself. Of her God. So sure of him. Even after all these years, he hadn’t figured out why. He hit Reply.

As the animated e-mail envelope vanished into cyberspace, Rafe’s fingers curled around the lion head atop his cane, and he pushed himself to his feet. “Come on, compa. Time for our morning workout.” He tapped the cane against his right leg. “Gotta get loosened up and ready for the day.” Rafe allowed a small smile. “I may not be King of the Pride anymore, but I’m still a force to reckon with, eh?”

He made his way to his workout room, determination building with each step. Because he knew it was a gift. Being around to get ready for
anything. And more than that, he knew there was a reason. Some reason he’d survived.

Had to be.

So he’d keep doing what he knew to do until that reason chose to reveal itself.

He’d barely walked out of his bedroom when the fragrance hit him. Coffee. So. He’d roused Tarik after all. Rafe made his way to the kitchen, and sure enough, the boy was there, just pouring the black brew into two heavy mugs.

Tarik glanced up at him, and one dark brow lifted. “Oh yeah. You look rested.” He held out a still-steaming mug.

“Funny boy.” He heard the edge in his tone and softened it as he came into the room. “As rested as you feel, most likely.” Rafe accepted the mug with a nod. “Sorry I woke you.”

The boy’s shrug offered grace, understanding. “No worse than I’ve done to you, man.”

True enough, but at least Tarik’s nightmares were growing fewer and farther between. Rafe wished he could say the same. He pulled a chair out from the kitchen table and eased himself down. “You didn’t have to get up, you know.”

There was the edge again. Tarik’s bland look told Rafe he’d heard it and dismissed it. Rafe took a sip of the hot liquid, letting it burn his throat. Served him right for being a grouch.

Again.

Silence stretched and deepened, and Rafe drank it in even as he savored the strong coffee. He hadn’t been sure about opening his home to Tarik, but it had been a good decision. He’d given Tarik a safe home. And the boy had given him a solid friend.

One who knew the value of quiet camaraderie.

Rafe leaned his elbows on the table. “So, big plans today?”

Tarik’s chuckle balanced between manly and boyish. At fourteen he was perched on that precipice, his heart telling him he was a man even as his age tied him to childhood.

“Oh yeah, the biggest. School. Homework. You know, fun, fun.”

The boy’s wry tone didn’t fool Rafe. He knew how grateful Tarik was to
have such things, how determined the boy was to succeed. Overcome. Leave the past in the dust.

It was one of the many similarities that bound them. Blood. Race. Backgrounds. All those might differ, but at heart, Rafe and Tarik were the same.

“You gonna have time for a workout this morning?”

The boy’s question drew Rafe’s gaze to the clock, and he gritted his teeth. How did time keep getting away from him? No workout meant he’d hurt more, but taking the time now would put him at the shop late. A curse almost escaped him, but Tarik’s warning look halted it. Though Rafe’s stint in the military had turned his language somewhat salty, having the kid live here had been as effective in setting Rafe’s mouth straight as if his mother were still alive. “Doesn’t look like it. I’d better get a move on if I want to get to the shop on time.”

Tarik leaned back in his chair. “You’d
better
get there on time. You may be the owner, but your sister …”

Rafe grinned. “Yeah, I know. She’s the boss.” He pushed to his feet, nodding at Tarik. “Thanks for the brew.”

“No problem. And Rafe?”

He turned back to face the young man seated at his kitchen table. “Yeah?”

“I’m prayin’ your lady shows up today.”

His lady. If only that were so. “You are, huh? Since when are you so concerned with my”—his mind halted, searching for the right word—“friendships?”

The boy’s lips twitched as he reached out to grab Rafe’s now-empty mug. “Since not seein’ her made you so crabby.”

Rafe rested against the kitchen doorway. “Crabby, huh?”

“Yeah, like a bear—”

“Ah, well—”

Tarik set the mugs in the sink. “With blisters.”

“Okay, I get the—”

“On his behind.”

It was Rafe’s turn to fight a grin at the boy’s half-scolding tone. Which of them was the adult again? “Sorry, bud. I’ll do better.”

Tarik’s smile was entirely too smug. “I knew you would.” He glanced at
the clock. “Now you’d better hit the showers before your sister starts callin’ to see where you’re at.”

Rafe couldn’t help himself. He saluted. And chuckled, all the way to his room.

Having Tarik come to live with him had brought some adjustments, but it had also brought something else. Something Rafe had been missing for too long.

Joy.

TWO   

I
f joy came in the morning, then it had to be a hair past nighttime, because the one thing Kyla Justice did
not
feel was joyful. She pushed the driver’s door open and stepped out into the mall parking lot.

She’d parked at the outer edges, intent on getting in for the dedication and getting out. She hit the lock button on her remote—and froze.

What was that sound? A soft, distressed squeak.

Great! Just what she needed. A malfunctioning remote. That couldn’t have been a good soun—

But no. The mewling cry came again. From behind her car.

It was hard to spot at first, but then Kyla caught a shiver of movement beneath a bush. She moved closer—and caught her breath. A kitten. Multicolored fur matted and damp from the misting rain that morning. Trembling. A pathetic, barely discernable mew tore at her heart, and Kyla reached for the bedraggled creature. Then stopped. Tiny or not, if this was a feral cat, she’d get shredded for her efforts. She cast a glance this way and that.

Where was the mother?

No lurking feline met her searching gaze. “Come on, Mama. Where are you hiding?” Another soft cry drew her gaze once more to the little bundle
huddling under the bush. Wide eyes beseeched her. The weary fright in them tugged at her heart.

Take it home with you
. The thought was as immediate as it was startling. Feelings Kyla didn’t recognize flooded her. They were positively … maternal. But take it home? How could she do that when she was on her way to a grand opening?

You can just tuck it inside your suit coat
.

The animal was certainly small enough. Poor thing couldn’t be more than a few weeks old. Her body warmth would probably put the little puffball right to sleep.

Are you crazy?
Now
this
voice she knew.
You paid a mint for this suit!

But if she didn’t help the kitten, it would probably die.

Not your problem. You can’t risk standing up there at the podium, trying to look professional, only to have this little beast snag the expensive threads beyond repair
.

Kyla straightened but couldn’t leave.

Fine. Don’t blame me if it decides to turn Tasmanian devil on you. Can you see a shot of that on the front page of the paper? Be smart, Kyla
.

Smart. She was always smart. Always did what made sense. Kyla looked at the kitten. It just lay there, its little head on its paws. It was probably too late to do anything anyway.

Then just put it in your car. On the floorboards in the backseat. Enough to shelter it
.

And risk letting it claw the leather interior? You
have
lost your mind!
Stop!

Kyla strode across the parking lot, trying to ignore the heaviness in her chest that grew with each step away from the tiny creature in need.

“Kyla?”

She spun. “Oh! Mason. You startled me.”

The man came to her side, took her arm, and planted a circumspect peck on her cheek. “Sorry, dear. Have I told you today how proud I am of you?”

Kyla forced a smile to her lips. Would he feel that way if he knew what she just did?

Yes, she realized as she fell into step beside him, he would. Mason was all about common sense. Not letting warm and fuzzies hinder good judgment.

Well, it didn’t get much warmer or fuzzier than what she’d faced.
And resisted
.

“Kyla, darling?”

She started, forcing her attention back to the man at her side. “Yes, Mason. You’ve said you were proud of me. A number of times.”

His arm slid around her waist and tugged her close. “Well, forgive a man for delighting in his beloved’s accomplishments.”

Her smile was a bit more sincere this time.
Beloved
. What a nice term. She brushed his designer jacketed arm with her fingers. “Forgiv—”

The word turned to a little yelp when Mason’s arm ushered her forward. “You’re on, darling. Be brilliant.”

“Wait! I … here, take this.” She pushed her cell phone at him. She didn’t have time to turn it off, and last thing she needed was to have it pipe up while she was standing in front of everyone.

Then, gathering her composure, Kyla advanced to the podium, ignoring the flashes as reporters shot their photographs. She shook hands with Mr. Belkins, her client—whose cat-that-ate-the-canary grin demonstrated his pleasure with the finished project—then turned to offer a welcome for the grand opening of the Mountain’s Edge outlet mall.

Applause followed her and Mr. Belkins as they moved toward a large green ribbon stretched across the mall entrance. A perfectly shaped and coiffed woman stepped forward to cut the ribbon. Applause sounded again, and Belkins turned to the crowd.

“Please, come inside and see for yourselves why Mountain’s Edge is more than just a mall. It’s a step into the future of retail.”

Kyla nodded and smiled as people filed past, heading for the refreshment tables. What she wouldn’t give to have Mason whisk her away from this. Take her someplace for a quiet celebration. But that was like wishing for the sky to turn chartreuse. Mason was, first and foremost, a businessman. And in business, one simply did not walk away from positive—and free—publicity.

“Great job, Miss Justice.”

She turned to Mr. Belkins, noting the satisfied smile stretching his too-smooth features. “Thank you, sir. It’s always good to know my clients are happy.”

“You really are unique, you know that?”

Kyla glanced over her shoulder to where Mason stood in the background, content to let her shine this time. “So I’ve been told.”

“I mean, look at what you’ve done.”

She followed the effusive sweep of his hand, taking in the line of buildings before them. Mountain’s Edge was, without a doubt, stunning. She’d constructed the mall with an eye to every detail. From the buildings’ log-house facades to shaded coves holding benches that beckoned weary shoppers to sit and recoup, the design was that of a woodland hideaway. But the crowning touch was a hewn-log trellis overarching the walkways. Branches, complete with pine needles that looked so real you could almost smell them, stretched between the buildings, giving the sense of walking through the woods.

It was a masterpiece. Or as close as she’d come yet in her work.

“People are going to love coming here.” Belkins’s manicured hand clapped her on the shoulder. “I’m going to make a mint off this place, and I owe it to you.”

The effect the gleeful words had on Kyla was probably the exact opposite of what the man intended. Her stomach clenched, and the ache inside her kicked into overdrive. Still, she dredged up a gracious smile.
“Always be professional,”
her father had told her.
“Don’t ever let your emotions get the better of you.”