Point of No Return (6 page)

“And your uncle?” I asked, not wanting to address the implication in his words.

Blane sat up, bending one leg to hook an elbow over his knee. He stared into the distance. “When I think about what he did, how Kade could’ve died. How I might not have gotten to you in time, nearly didn’t. I want to kill him.” He gave a bark of bitter laughter. “My own uncle. I’ve idolized him since I was a boy. To find out that he betrayed me, hurt me, all for his aspirations for my career
. . .
” He shook his head as though he still had trouble wrapping his mind around it.

The nearly palpable anger and pain emanating from Blane struck a sympathetic chord in me. I reached over, grasping his hand that rested on the blanket between us. He lifted his head and his eyes were a brilliant green as they searched mine.

“I’m sorry, Kat,” he said. “You tried to tell me, and I didn’t listen. I’m sorry for that. I’m sorry for everything that’s happened to you
. . .
because of me.” His lips twisted in a parody of a smile. “Ironic, isn’t it? I turned out to be the worst thing that ever happened to you.”

“Don’t say that!” I sat up, quickly moving to kneel beside him. “That’s not true,” I said.

Blane shook his head slightly, glancing away, and I knew he didn’t believe me.

I cupped his cheek in my hand, forcing him to look at me. “That’s not true,” I repeated. “I wouldn’t trade the time we had together for anything. If I knew then what I know now, I’d still have gotten in your car that night.” And I meant it.

Blane searched my eyes. He leaned forward and I knew what was coming, but I didn’t pull away. His hand curved behind my neck and his mouth met mine.

It was as sweet and tentative as a first kiss. His lips were soft and coaxing, the gentle brush of his tongue against the seam of my lips a silent request I couldn’t resist. He deepened the kiss, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me into his lap until I was cradled in both arms, my body wedged between his chest and his bent knees.

He didn’t try anything more or attempt to take things further. He just
. . .
kissed me. Gradually, I relaxed against him, my body pliant and clinging to his.

I lost track of time and when Blane finally lifted his head, I was languid with desire. Our faces were inches apart and Blane just looked at me, his hand cupping my cheek. His eyes were a beautiful, deep green, the gray nearly invisible now.

“I love how your eyes do that,” I murmured.

His lips twitched. “Do what?” His thumb brushed my cheekbone and I could feel the beat of his heart against my ribs.

“One minute, they’re gray like an oncoming storm,” I said. “The next, they’re the vibrant green of spring grass.”

Blane didn’t reply. I didn’t think he much cared about the color of his eyes. He seemed as though he were memorizing my face, his gaze drifting from my brow to my cheek, my nose, my lips and chin. His thumb brushed my lower lip and he leaned down, pressing a tender, chaste kiss to my mouth.

“You should probably get back to work,” I said. I lifted my hand, unable to resist the temptation to push my fingers through his hair. The blond locks always fell perfectly back into place, no matter what I did. It made me smile. That was Blane. Unruffled and in control. Always.

“I don’t want to,” he said, making me smile even wider.

“I doubt your clients would approve,” I teased. “Besides, I have to get ready for work soon anyway.”

Neither of us made any move to get up. Blane wrapped a lock of my hair around his finger, his gaze focusing on it rather than me as he asked, “Have you been back to see Kade?”

I stiffened, immediately wary. “We probably shouldn’t discuss Kade,” I hedged. All the guilt and doubts I’d managed to push to the back of my mind came flooding back. I squirmed, easing out of Blane’s arms and getting to my feet.

“We can’t really
not
discuss him, either,” Blane said. He stood as well.

“Then yes,” I said, averting my gaze. I slipped my shoes back on and started to pick up the blanket. “I’ve been to see him. Is that what you want to hear?”

“Not really, not if I’m honest,” he replied.

I folded the blanket over my arms, holding it against my chest like a shield as I faced him. “What do you want from me, Blane?”

“Fine, I’ll lay it on the line,” he said, moving closer until he stood right in front of me. “I want you, just you, all to myself. I don’t want you seeing Kade anymore. I want you to want to be with me, and only me.”

I swallowed. “You’re asking me to choose. I can’t do that. Not right now.” The thought of giving Kade up caused a physical pain inside my chest.

Blane cursed, turning to pace away, his hands resting on his hips.

“I’m not asking you to stick around,” I said. “I’ll understand if you don’t want to be friends anymore, see me anymore.” The words sounded selfless, but that was far from how I felt. I’d really enjoyed being with Blane today. I didn’t want to lose him.

Blane gave a curt nod, which I had no idea how to interpret. He picked up the basket and took the blanket from me. I followed him in silence to the car.

The drive back to my apartment was rife with tension. Blane had an iron grip on the steering wheel, sunglasses again covering his eyes. His expression was like granite.

I fidgeted, nerves getting the best of me.

When we pulled into my parking lot, Blane put the car in park, but made no move to turn off the engine. He stared straight ahead.

“Um, thanks for lunch,” I murmured as I fumbled for the door handle. I felt absurdly like I wanted to cry. Absurd because, really, what had I thought would happen? Eventually, my feelings for Kade would drive Blane away, and vice versa. This tension with Blane shouldn’t have been a surprise.

“Wait,” Blane said, his hand shooting out to grip my wrist, catch me just as I was about to exit the car.

I stilled but didn’t turn.

“I’m sorry, Kat,” he said. “I’ve lost you so many times. I’m scared to death that this time, if I lose you, it’ll be forever.”

I looked around at him, his words breaking my heart. “I love you,” I said. “You know that.”

“But are you still
in
love with me?”

I hesitated before answering. “I don’t know.”

We were busy at The Drop that night, and with Scott gone, I didn’t stop moving until it was nearly closing. I was restocking when Tish bellied up to the bar.

“Hand me a beer, Kathleen?” she asked.

I pulled a bottle from the fridge and popped the top before handing it to her.

“You’re not going to have one?”

I shook my head. “Nah. Not tonight. I’m tired enough as it is.” Beer didn’t sound very appealing, and I wasn’t exaggerating about being tired. It was an effort to put one foot in front of the other, and I couldn’t wait to crawl into bed.

“How’s the love triangle going?” she asked with a wink.

I groaned. “You make it sound like it’s funny, when it’s awful. It really is.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, immediately contrite.

“It’s okay,” I sighed. “I just don’t know what to do. Every day it seems I’m being pushed one step closer to choosing between them, and I don’t want to do that.”

“In all seriousness, Kathleen, that would be the kindest thing to do.”

I glanced over at her, frowning. “What do you mean?”

Tish shrugged. “Well, if it was me and I was in love with a guy who loved me and someone else, I’d want him to pick. It’d just be a waste of my time to try and hold on to a relationship that may never happen.”

She had a point, and yet
. . .
“I don’t want to lose them.”

Tish reached across the bar and took my hand, giving it a squeeze. “This isn’t you, Kathleen. You’re not selfish. I know you’re not. I think you’re just scared. A lot has happened the past few months. But you’re strong. You’re a good person. You’ll do the right thing, and you’ll be glad you did.”

Her words echoed in my head as I sat silent in the chair in Kade’s room. They must’ve given him more pain medication, because he hadn’t stirred when I’d snuck inside.

I watched him—thinking about him, me, and Blane—until I could hardly hold my head up. Tish was right. I had to be strong, had to make the right choice, even if I was so exhausted and confused right now that I had no clue what that choice should be.

It was closer to morning than midnight when I finally trudged up the stairs to my apartment. The late nights at the hospital were taking a toll. However, when I reached the top of the flight, I got an unwelcome surprise.

“What are you doing here, James?” I asked, backing away from where he stood leaning against my door. My hand scrabbled inside my purse for my gun.

James looked at me, his hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I hear you and Kirk are over,” he said. “Again.”

I swallowed. “What does it matter?”

“You’re too good for him,” James said. “I think that’s why I hated seeing you with him.”

“You need to leave,” I said, wishing my voice weren’t shaking. James scared me, our every encounter marked by pain.

James ignored me, taking a few steps in my direction. I hurriedly backed up while pulling my gun from my purse.

“Don’t come any closer,” I warned him.

He paused at the sight of the gun in my hand.

“Maybe if Kandi’d had a gun that night, she wouldn’t be dead,” he mused. “She means
. . .
meant
. . .
something to me.” He gave a sudden, bitter laugh. “And we both hated you. Our common bond.”

“Go home, James,” I said. “It’s late.”

“Kirk deserved to die for what he did to her,” James said. “But you were there, weren’t you. Protecting him.” His eyes fixed on mine and he moved closer. Alarmed, I retreated until my back was to the wall.

“You’re like a guardian angel for him and Dennon,” he continued. “That’s where you were tonight, right? With Dennon?”

He was close enough now that the gun was nearly touching his chest.

“That’s none of your business,” I said, fear crawling up my spine as I fought panic. “I don’t want to hurt you. Just go.”

He reached out and I flinched as his fingers gently grazed the side of my face and cheek.

“I can’t stop thinking about you,” he murmured. “Can’t stop trying to figure you out—figure
us
out.”

“There is no
us
, James!” I was frantic to get through to him. I didn’t think I could pull the trigger, no matter how afraid I was.

“Fate brought us together, keeps bringing us together,” he insisted. “If you think I’m wrong, then shoot me.”

My hand tightened on the gun’s grip, the weapon trembling slightly. James looked completely unafraid, his gaze weirdly serene as he stared at me. After a moment, he spoke again.

“You can’t do it,” he said softly. “You can’t kill me, because that’s not who you are. You’re not a killer, like Kirk and Dennon. You’re an angel.”

Before I could say anything to that, he leaned forward and kissed me, a quick hard press of his lips against mine, then he was gone, heading down the stairs. A moment later, I heard a car start and pull out of the lot.

I was shaking like a leaf in the wind and could barely put my gun back into my purse. It took way too long to unlock my door and when I was finally inside, I hurriedly relocked it, then leaned against it and just breathed. As if I didn’t have enough on my mind, James’s unexpected reappearance in my life felt like the last straw for my tenuous composure. A hysterical laugh bubbled up in my throat but I swallowed it down.

Stripping to my underwear, I was too tired to do more than pull on a white tank, leaving my work uniform where it lay on the floor. I fell into bed and slept like the dead.

C
HAPTER
F
OUR

I
woke to the sound of someone knocking on my door. Blearily, I rubbed my eyes, glancing at the clock as I stumbled out of bed. I groaned. It was just after seven-thirty. I hadn’t slept for even four hours.

Cranky now, and only half awake, I still remembered my late-night visitor and checked the peephole before opening the door, but it was Blane standing there.

“Um, I
. . .
I
. . .
wasn’t expecting
. . .
you,” I stammered, blinking in the morning sunshine. I belatedly remembered how I must look, with tangled hair and last night’s makeup. Of course, Blane was in his customary suit and tie, sunglasses hiding his eyes.

“Brought you some coffee,” he said after an awkward moment, handing me a cup.

“Um, okay, thanks,” I said, taking it from him. I stepped back and he followed me into my apartment.

The coffee smelled heavenly, though my stomach lurched a little, reminding me that not enough sleep wasn’t good for the digestive system. I took a cautious sip and let out a sigh. I might forgive Blane for waking me up at this ungodly hour since he’d brought really good, really hot coffee.

I turned around to thank him, but the words stuck in my throat. He’d taken off his sunglasses and his gaze was raking me from head to foot with a familiar glint in his eyes. I abruptly realized I wasn’t really dressed for company. The white tank and bikini underwear left little to the imagination, and though Blane had seen it all before, it wasn’t exactly the look I was going for right then.

“Give me a minute,” I said, setting down the coffee. “I’ll be right back.”

I hurried into the bathroom, brushing my teeth and scrubbing my face. A brush through my hair did wonders and I pulled on a pair of knit shorts. I was back out in the living room in mere minutes.

“Sorry about that,” I said. Blane was sitting on the couch, so I picked up my coffee and sat in the chair across from him.

“It’s fine. Sorry to wake you.”

I shrugged. “I worked last night.” And had spent a few hours sitting at Kade’s bedside, but chose not to mention that. It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him about James, but my problems weren’t Blane’s anymore, and James had always been my problem. I kept my mouth shut.

“I want to apologize,” Blane said. “For pushing you yesterday. I said I wouldn’t, and I did.”

“You had every right,” I replied.

“No, I didn’t. You gave me your terms and I didn’t abide by them.”

I winced. When he said it like that, I did sound like a selfish bitch. Tish’s words flashed through my mind and I took a deep breath.

“I can’t do this, Blane,” I blurted. “I can’t
. . .
be with you one minute, and with Kade the next. It’s wrong, and it’s not fair to either of you.”

He frowned. “What are you talking about?”

I swallowed, my voice quiet as I confessed. “You know I went to see Kade the other night, in the hospital, after you left.”

Blane’s face was carefully impassive. “Yes. I never said you couldn’t.”

God, I really didn’t want to go into detail. I set down my coffee, noticing that my hand was shaking. I clenched my hands together in my lap.

“We kissed, Blane,” I said. “You and me. Then I saw Kade, and
. . .
I kissed him, too.” Surely that was enough. I could feel my face burning, but didn’t give in to the temptation to look away and not meet his eyes. “I can’t do that. I can’t
. . .
be that person. I hate it. And I can’t trust myself not to be.”

The Adam’s apple in Blane’s throat moved as he swallowed. “So you’re choosing Kade after all.”

“No, I’m not. You were right, Blane. I can’t have what I want with Kade. But you and me, we can’t go back.” It was the hardest sentence I’d ever had to say and my heart hurt just forcing the words out. “I can’t
. . .
make myself feel about you the way I once did. And I’m sorry.” Tears started halfway through, but I kept talking even as my voice grew quieter, the syllables harder to say past the lump in my throat. “I should want to, I know that. You’re wonderful and I love you, I really do—”

“But you’re not
in
love with me anymore,” Blane cut in.

I shook my head. “And I’m so, so sorry,” I whispered. I felt my face crumple and gave in to the tears, covering my face with my hands so Blane wouldn’t see. My shoulders shook with silent sobs. I’d known this was coming, had known the three of us wasn’t going to work out, but a tiny part of me had hoped I’d have longer with them. With Blane.

“Shhh, don’t cry.” Blane was suddenly crouched down in front of me, his arms wrapping around me and pulling me out of the chair and into his lap. He tucked my head underneath his chin.

But it seemed I couldn’t stop. I no longer felt what had been inside of me for Blane, and being in love with Kade was pointless. Kade’s words had proved prophetic. My heart was broken for what Blane and I had lost, and loving Kade was as futile as chasing a rainbow.

Losing them both was going to be as devastating as I’d imagined.

“D-do you h-hate me now?” I hiccupped through my tears.

“Of course not,” he soothed.

“You sh-should,” I said. “I’ve been awful
. . .
selfish. And I’m g-going to m-miss you.”

The tears started again, dampening his neck, and I clutched the lapels of his jacket. I was one step closer to being alone again.

“I’m not leaving you,” Blane said softly. “I’ll still be around, okay?”

I wished I could believe that.

It seemed wrong for Blane to be comforting
me
at this point, so I pulled myself together and made the tears stop.

Blane was lightly stroking my hair, both of his arms around me as I rested against his chest. Neither of us spoke. I knew this would be the last time he’d hold me like this, ever, and I wasn’t ready for him to stop.

“If I’d known our last kiss was going to be our
last kiss
,” he murmured thoughtfully, “I’d have made it better.”

I sucked in a breath as the pain of those words sank in, and pulled back. He looked down and our eyes met. I caught a glint of wetness on Blane’s lashes, and his eyes seemed unusually bright. Then he blinked and I thought I must have imagined it.

“I, um, I’d better go,” he said.

I took the hint and clambered off his lap. He got to his feet and absently smoothed his jacket and tie before adjusting his cuff links. It was as though I was watching him don his politician’s armor right in front of me, and it made me unbearably sad.

He slid his sunglasses back on and ran his fingers through his hair. I followed him to the door, not knowing what to say or do. It seemed he didn’t, either, because although he cleared his throat, he didn’t speak.

The sunlight was glaring as I stood in the doorway. Blane gave me a hug and his lips brushed my hair.

“It’ll be okay,” he said, and I couldn’t tell if he was saying those words to me, or himself.

He jogged down the stairs to his car and I hurried forward to watch him over the railing, like I’d done so many times before. He glanced up and gave me a smile before disappearing inside his car, and pain twisted like a knife inside me.

It was that politician’s smile, the one that never reached his eyes. I used to be the one who he didn’t have to hide his emotions from, didn’t have to use that smile to conceal what was going on inside his head.

Not anymore.

Tears clogged my throat again and I swiped my wet cheeks with the back of my hand. Endings were hard, even more so when they faded away rather than exploding into dust.

I watched Blane drive off and it felt as if a hole had been ripped in my chest. The only thing harder than acknowledging to myself that it was over—really over—between us had been telling him.

My stomach heaved and I only just made it to the bathroom in time.

Kade had been blowing up my phone all evening. I hadn’t had a chance to even glance at my phone, so when I finally listened to the voice mails, they went like this:

I want to see you. If you’re not answering, that must mean you’ve been kidnapped by another psycho, because I’m sure you wouldn’t just ignore my call.

Twenty minutes later.

Of course, if you are ignoring my call, then you’re going to miss me telling you this great story about how this smokin’-hot girl showed up in my room the other night. I’ve been thinking about her all day.

Thirty minutes later.

That girl, she left too quick. I think she’s mad at me. Or maybe sad. Yeah, she looked sad when she left. I’m not sure why.

Forty minutes later.

I think we had a fight, maybe. I’m not a hundred percent sure. I’m afraid that—
a pause, and then a huff of humorless laughter—
I’m afraid. There’s two words I haven’t strung together in a long fucking time, princess.

Twenty minutes later.

I hope she knows that I love her.
A pause.
Yeah, just that. I love her and
. . .
I don’t want to lose her.

That had been the last message two hours ago. I’d cried when I listened.

I could see through the window that Kade was stretched out in bed and part of me hoped he was sleeping. I’d gain a reprieve. But he wasn’t, and the moment I stepped through the door, his head turned and his piercing blue gaze met mine.

Time seemed to stop as I froze, right inside the doorway. I didn’t even breathe as I crossed over to him. When I was near enough, he grabbed my arm and hauled me closer. Without another word, his hand curved around the back of my neck and he pulled me in to kiss me.

It wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t elegant. It was the kind of kiss you give someone you’d thought you might never kiss again.

Our lips and tongues entwined as his hands moved to gently hold my head, his thumbs brushing my cheeks. I buried my fingers in his hair, the taste and feel of him more precious than my next breath.

When we finally parted, we were both breathing hard. I rested my forehead against his, closing my eyes and concentrating on the touch of his hands, the sound of his breathing, the warm feel of his skin against mine.

“I love you,” he said, his voice a low rasp.

Pulling back slightly so I could look into his eyes, I said, “And I love you, Kade Dennon.” I hadn’t said those words since he’d first regained consciousness, and it was almost a relief to be able to say them once more.

Then he was kissing me again until my breath was gone. He pressed light kisses to my cheeks, my closed eyes, my forehead before returning to my mouth.

“I thought you might not come back,” he breathed against my lips.

“I can’t seem to stay away.” Which was the absolute truth. Kade exerted a pull on me that I couldn’t resist.

Our eyes met. I could get lost in the clear blue depths of his gaze.

Kade tugged on my hand and I climbed up next to him. His arms curved around me, tucking me in close to his side.

“We can’t go on like this,” I said after a while. “Me. You. Blane. It needs an ending.”

His fingers had been combing through my hair. Now they stopped.

“What kind of an ending did you have in mind?”

“The only one there can be,” I said quietly. “I need to go my own way, and you two go yours.”

Kade’s grip on me tightened. “That’s bullshit.”

I shifted so I could see his face. “Then what, Kade?” I asked, exasperated.

“What do you mean?”

“You told me a month ago that we couldn’t be together,” I reminded him. “That it was too dangerous for me to be with you. Have you changed your mind?”

Kade studied me, his brow furrowed. His hand brushed my cheek. “I’m insane to want to keep you,” he murmured, “but I can’t let you go.”

And it seemed that’s the only answer I was going to get, because then he started kissing me and I didn’t have the heart to push him away, not when our time was limited.