The Fall and Rise of Kade Hart: A Hart Brothers Novel (12 page)

I force myself to keep moving. In most
places, it’s difficult to distinguish where the roads are because
there is so much snow. My feet and legs are growing numb from the
cold. Alarm bells start going off when I notice I’m not even close
to my destination. I decide this was a crazy idea and turn around.
Going back should be easier because I’ve already forged a path. The
problem is I’m having difficulty moving my legs. I stumble and fall
into the soft cushion of the snow. My limbs are so uncoordinated
that it’s an exhausting process getting back on my feet.

Anxiety builds. My breathing is labored as I
move. Left, right, left, is my mantra. I fall several more times,
but it becomes nearly impossible to stay on my feet. How could this
have happened so quickly? I’ve only been gone maybe fifteen
minutes. Weariness takes over and all I want to do is rest. Why am
I so tired? Fog settles in my brain and I allow my mind to drift.
When I stumble again, I decide to rest a bit. But not for long.

A deep nasty growl alerts me. At first I
think it’s a dream. But then I hear it again. I move to lift my
head, but something pushes it back onto the snow. It feels as
though someone’s hand is holding my head down. Next it sounds like
a group of animals fighting. But they’re not animals, because the
growls cease and they begin speaking in a foreign language. Then
all sounds end. It becomes eerily quiet again and someone calls my
name.

“Emmalia. Emmalia!”

Kade picks me up and holds me against
him.

“Jesus Christ! I’ve been looking all over
for you!”

“Tried to make it to the shelter,” I
mumble.

“Fuck! You’re freezing. I hope you’re not
hypothermic.” He moves and I close my eyes to the rhythm of him
walking. I’ve no concept of anything except my skin feels like
solid ice. Haziness descends over me and I know I’ll be safe for
the moment in Kade’s arms.

Kade

Juliette is one stubborn woman. When I find
her gone, I run out in search of her. After a few blocks of
nothing, I realize she must’ve gone to the animal shelter. I head
in that direction and pick up on her footprints soon after.

The tiny lump of Juliette lying in the snow,
unmoving, freaks the hell out of me. When I pick her up, I realize
exactly how fragile she is. Those ridiculous baggy clothes she
wears cover up her size. She’s about as big as a mite and weighs
about as much as one too. Her coat is what someone should wear on a
cool spring day, not in temps in the teens. And her pants. For
fuck’s sake, they’re not even as heavy as denim. No wonder she’s
like a block of ice. I need to get her into warm clothing, fast.
And get some warm fluids into her, too.

As soon as we get to the house, I bound up
the stairs and make a beeline for my bedroom, flipping on the
fireplace as I enter. I grab the first warm clothes I can
find—sweatshirt, sweatpants, and socks. Then I strip her out of her
clothing. Off come the jacket, boots, socks, pants, and sweater.
When she’s down to her bra and panties, I assess them to make sure
they’re dry. They’re wet as can be. I tug them off too. Then I
dress her in the sweats and pull the socks on. As soon as I’m
finished, I tuck her under the covers. She’s moaning about being
cold, but I know it’s the best I can do for now. I hunt for a
thermometer and take her temperature. Shit. It’s ninety-six. But at
least she’s not classified as hypothermic.

“Juliette. Wake up. Can you hear me?”

“Huh?”

“I’ll be right back with some hot cocoa and
soup. I need to get warm liquids in you.”

As fast as I can heat them up in the
microwave, I’m back with both items.

“Juliette, wake up. You need to drink
this.”

She opens her eyes.

“Can you sip on this cocoa?”

“Huh?”

She looks confused.

“Sip on this.” I hold the cup while she
sips. “More.” She takes more.

“Did you hear them?” she asks.

“Who.”

“Those men?”

She’s out of her head.

“No, but we can talk about it when you’re
warm. Drink some more.” She does as I tell her. Soon the cup is
empty and the bluish tint to her lips is fading. I wait a few
minutes, allowing her mouth to cool, and take her temperature
again. It’s come up to ninety-six point five. Progress!

“How do you feel?” I ask.

She looks around the room and back to me.
“Your room?”

“Yeah.”

“Good.”

“You feel good?”

“No. I’m cold.” She shivers uncontrollably
as she answers.

I hand her the cup of soup and ask her if
she can sip on that. Then I ask her if she likes hot tea. She says
it’s okay; so I run down to make her a cup. When I get back, I ask
her if she’s any better.

“A little. Can you get in here with me?”

“After you finish your soup and tea.”

“Okay.”

When she’s done, I take off my boots and
jacket, because I never did when we got back here, and then my
pants because they’re wet from the snow, and climb under the
covers. She curls herself around me and I loop my legs around hers.
“Your legs are still like ice.”

“I know,” her teeth chatter.

“I’d lie on top of you, but I’d crush you.
You’re not as big as a mouse.”

“S-s-so c-c-cold.”

She trembles so hard it shakes the bed.

“Lie down, little mouse. I’m going to cover
you. Tell me if I smother you.”

“K-k-k-k.”

She lies back and I cover her body with
mine. She burrows into me like a chipmunk rooting to make a nest.
Small hands make their way beneath my shirt and I jump when they
hit my skin.

“Jesus, your hands are like ice.”

“S-s-s-orry.”

“It’s okay. I wasn’t expecting them to be
that cold.

“Y-y-y-you’re s-s-so w-w-warm.”

“I was.” And I laugh. “Why’d you do it? Run
from me?” I pull back slightly so I can see her face. Huge
remorseful eyes look back at me and I know she doesn’t want to
answer. But I want her to. I want to hear the words.

“Tell me, Juliette.”

Her eyes shutter, closing me out. Damn it. I
don’t want her to shut me out. As bad as it sounds, I want in. I
want in her life. She needs me. I can feel it.

Her shivering eventually eases. I reach for
the thermometer and stick it in her mouth. Ninety-seven. I can stop
taking it now. In dealing with addicts, since many of them end up
on the streets like I did, I know a lot about how to treat
hypothermia. When the body temperature hits ninety-five it can be
extremely dangerous. I’m thankful Juliette’s wasn’t that low.

“Your temperature has climbed up to
ninety-seven.”

“I’m still cold.”

“I should think so.” Rolling to my side, I
take her with me. “I never thought I’d be in this bed with a
nun.”

A small elbow digs into my ribs. “I’m not a
nun.”

“Close, though. Maybe I should take a selfie
of us and send it to Sister Helena. I could caption it—having fun
with a nun.” The thought makes me grin.

Her face turns nearly purple and her mouths
screws up into the most awful look of horror. I can’t help but
laugh.

“Juliette, I’m only kidding.”

“Oh, Kade, that’s not something to kid
about. She would die. And after all she’s done for me.” Her head
drops onto my shoulder and I feel terrible now for teasing her.

“I’m sorry. I thought you would find it
humorous. I shouldn’t have said it.”

She sinks her top teeth into her lower lip
and then says, “When I came to Denver, I was on my last leg, so to
speak. I had run out of options. The convent was my last ditch
effort and I’d been rejected by everywhere I’d applied. Sister
Helena took me in on a trial basis. She gave me six months. I don’t
think she believed me that I wanted to really become a nun. And who
could blame her? I was nothing but a sham. But she saved me. I
think I owe her my life, though I can never tell her.”

I digest what she’s told me; that’s why
she’s so forgiving of Sister Helena. It’s also why Sister Helena
takes advantage of her. Juliette has blinders on where Sister
Helena is concerned. I don’t. I see through her. She’s an
opportunist and I can’t like her.

“Juliette, you can leave the convent if you
want. I’ll give you a job and pay you a salary. You can find a
place to live that won’t require you to be at the beck and call of
someone who doesn’t appreciate you and see the good in you.”

“No! I could never live alone. Not now. I’m
too afraid!”

“Then stay here.”

“No! I can’t do that either. It’s not
right.”

“What about finding a roommate or something?
Or how about staying at Living Free?”

“I can’t take advantage of you.”

“I want you to take advantage of me, damn
it!”

The words fly out before I can stop them.
She looks at me, questioning. Before I know what’s happening, I
lean forward and touch my lips to hers. They’re still cool, so I
take my tongue and drag it over first the lower one and then the
upper one. It’s been years since I’ve kissed a woman. But I don’t
ever remember lips being this soft. I press my mouth to hers again
and she kisses me back. Her hand touches my cheek, letting me know
it’s okay.

“I’ve wanted to kiss you since that day I
saw you in the garden, with your Metallica T-shirt on.”

“You have?”

“Yes. I have.” I figure why not tell the
truth here.

My mouth drops down to taste hers again, and
I take her lower lip into mine and suck on it. When she moans, my
dick instantly responds. Shit. I want her. But that can’t happen. I
need to only focus on the kiss. My tongue pushes into her mouth and
I feel hers lightly touch mine, as if to say it’s okay, but she’s a
little afraid. I coax her. I’m gentle at first, playing hide and
seek a bit. When she becomes bolder, I deepen the kiss and her
hands grab my hair. That tells me she’s into it, and when her leg
wraps around mine and her hips press into me, I groan.

I pull back slightly, and notice the skin on
her cheeks and neck is flushed with desire. She wants me. Or maybe
it’s just the fact that she’s finally thawed out and the
circulation has returned. I’m so far out of this game, it’s sad to
say that I can’t tell which.

“Juliette.” I nuzzle her cheek with my nose.
My hand slips under her sweatshirt and she instantly stiffens,
drawing away from me.

“Kade, I … we can’t do this. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry. I’m the one who should be
sorry.” What was I thinking? I’m not some stupid fifteen year
old.

She tries to scramble out of bed, but I pull
her back to me. “Don’t go. I promise not to kiss or touch you. Just
stay here so you can get warm.”

She relaxes. “I want you to kiss and touch
me, but I’m conflicted.”

“Tell me.”

“Kade, I’m not a virgin. I had a normal life
before this, you know, one with a boyfriend and everything when I
was in college. But I really had made up my mind to dedicate my
life to the convent. I had it all planned out because I figure I’m
not long for this world anyway. So this, whatever’s happening
between you and me, can’t go any further.”

“I’m not a virgin either. It’s been years
since I’ve been with anyone. Since before rehab. Since before I was
living on the streets. Since before my addiction got so bad I could
scarcely function. So what you have here is pretty much an
inexperienced guy. I lost my virginity in college and quite
frankly, I don’t remember too much about it. The few times I was
with a woman, I was never sober, so my experience is limited, at
best. And after college, well, you know what happened then. The
truth is I haven’t met anyone since rehab I’ve come close to
wanting to be with. Until you. So you’re not the only one who’s
conflicted.”

“I’m not?”

“Hell no! Look at you! You’re so innocent.
Then look at me. I’m a drug addict.”

“
Recovering
drug addict.”

A bitter laugh escapes from my mouth. “Do
you have any idea how close I come each day to falling back down
into the hellhole of addiction?”

She shakes her head.

“You don’t want to know.”

“Tell me.”

“I’ve already told you what it’s like. I
don’t need to tell you again. The pain is tremendous and the hold
it has over you is indescribable. I’m at war with myself over you
right now. I have this relentless need to help you. You wear your
hurt like a badge, Juliette. I want to tear that badge off you and
crush it. But getting involved with you is setting off a series of
alarms in my head. I guess you and I have arrived at the same place
right now.”

The explanation I give her doesn’t even
scratch the surface. I’m shit terrified of hurting her with my
fuckeduppery. I’m also afraid that I’m not strong enough to handle
this. What happens if my emotions get too entangled? If she doesn’t
return my feelings? Will I fall down the slippery slope and succumb
to the needle? Jesus, it scares the fucking hell out of me because
if there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that I will die if I
ever use again.

“Oh, Kade. How did this ever happen?”

“Fate threw us together.”

“Fate and God. Maybe He wanted us to be
together.”

And then she does the unthinkable. She leans
into me and initiates a kiss. I freeze. I won’t let myself touch
her. This has to be all her. I’m shocked even more when she pushes
me backward and climbs on top of me. My hands fist at my sides,
using all my control not to touch her.

Her hand cups my cheek as her mouth grazes
mine. But when her tongue inches past my lips, that’s it. My arms
coil around her and I greedily kiss her back, taking and giving.
Her moans spur me on, so I intensify the kiss, exploring her
luscious mouth, running my hands up and down her back. When I feel
her hand glide beneath my shirt, I want to scream. I have to stop
her because I don’t want to lose control.