The Fall and Rise of Kade Hart: A Hart Brothers Novel (17 page)

“Kade?”

Juliette’s soft voice pulls me away from
that vile memory. She looks like a tiny waif, drowning in my
oversized clothes.

Her arms clutch each other in front of her
stomach. She’s not quite afraid, but she’s timid. “I didn’t lie to
you. The convent
is
my life right now. It’s all I know. I’ve
built a life there and I can’t just walk away like that.” She snaps
her fingers. “It’s too rash of a decision. But I’ll never lie. I
promise.”

My brain is knotted with dysfunctional
images of my dark past and my cravings for the poison that can
shatter them. “I’m sorry I was so hard on you. It’s just one more
manifestation of my demons. Lying is a tough one for me.”

“It is for me, too.”

“For now, you return to St. John the
Baptist. Back to normal?”

“Kade, after today, life won’t ever return
to normal. How could it after what we shared? I won’t be able to
stop thinking about you. And I haven’t had normal in years.”

“Can you promise me something?”

“Maybe.”

“Promise me that if you change your mind,
I’ll be the first to know. I have room for you—until other
arrangements can be made. You’d have a job with a salary. I’d see
to it. I won’t suffocate you. I swear.”

“I promise.”

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

“Juliette, what do you think my chances
are?”

She laughs. “Pretty good, if you don’t rush
me.”

“I won’t. I think you’re right about that
part. It’s going to be very hard to act like there’s nothing going
on between us when I see you.”

The room charges between us. I want her. I
want to be inside of her. But what I really want is to persuade her
to my way of thinking. How can she possibly go back to that damn
convent? Doesn’t she understand what that means? We won’t be able
to touch or act like we even
like
each other. I won’t be
able to grab and kiss her if I want. It will be fucking ridiculous.
I want to smash my hand through the wall.

But there’s something else I want to do
more. My hand grabs a hunk of that stupid sweatshirt she has on. I
decide to throw all caution to the wind. If she has to leave in the
morning, this may be our last chance to spend like this. And I
refuse to let it pass us by. The shirt is fisted in my hand and I
jerk her body against mine. With my other hand, I palm her ass and
press her tightly to me. I’m sure she can feel my dick against her
stomach. Maybe not, because that sweatshirt is pretty thick. But
I’m going to take care of that in a second.

My fingers scrabble around for the hem and
after finding it, I don’t ask for permission, I only pull it over
her head. She’s bared from the waist up and shy about it. I don’t
know why, because I’ve seen her like this before.

Taking my hands, I push hers away. “Don’t
cover your beauty. Let me see you, Juliette.” I place her hands on
my shoulders and bend my head to tease her pert nipples.

“Kade.”

The tone of her voice sends a warning signal
shooting through me. No. She can’t not want this. How can this
be?

“You have to stop.”

The most dreaded words I can imagine flay my
soul, leaving it in tatters. She doesn’t want me. My hands release
her and my arms now feel like useless appendages.

“I need to think this through. If I’m to
leave tomorrow, this will make it worse.”

My cock whimpers at her words. I refuse to
give up. This may be my only chance to persuade her.

“You’re wrong, Juliette. This is our last
night to be together. I want you next to me, close. If it only
means holding you, then fine. But what I truly want is to fuck you
properly.” She sucks in air between her teeth and I know that maybe
I’ve offended her. I don’t care. In this moment, the only thing I
care about is convincing her of our need to be together.

“Don’t you see? We may not have another
chance like this. When you walk out this door, Sister Helena will
rule your life and I’m sure our opportunities to be alone will be
greatly diminished. We’ll be reduced to sneaking in kisses in the
janitor’s closet at the school, or something absurd like that.”

She’s jiggled back into the sweatshirt as I
talk. Her petite hands cup my face. “I know,” she says. “It
destroys me when I think about it. But I don’t know what else to
do.”

Her hand latches onto mine and she tugs it
until I follow her down the steps. Ethel is in her crate and I
shake my head. Juliette heads for the crate and takes the puppy out
of it.

“We need to pay her some attention. She’s
been a bit neglected.”

What the fuck! Is that all she cares about
is the damn dog? If that’s the case I’ll build the dog a fucking
townhouse of her own and hire a horde of servants to shower her
with love and attention. Okay, that’s ludicrous. What the hell is
wrong with me? I need to pull my shit together.

“Juliette, would you excuse me for a bit. I
need to call my counselor. I, um, need someone to talk to right
now.”

“Kade! Are you all right?”

“No, I’m not. I’m … I’ll be back.”

I stomp to my office. Anger infuses me. I’m
annoyed at myself, for being jealous of a helpless puppy of all
things. What does that say about me as a man? That I’m selfish for
one. That I’m totally out of control, for another. I dig out my
phone from my pocket and speed dial Mack.

“What up dude?”

“Not good.”

“Talk. And I want it all.”

And I dump it all on him, holding nothing
back. When I’m finished, he advises. Damn, he’s good.

“Dude, slow down. And I mean S-L-O-W down.
You’re on fast-forward with her. You can’t possibly have
established any hard-core feelings yet. This is all a sexual thing
right now. This storm has thrown you two together and circumstances
have put you in a place you hadn’t prepared for. I’m glad the
sexual part of you has kicked in, because for a while there, I was
wondering if your dick was permanently dead. But now that we’ve
established it isn’t, man handle it for a while and then let things
take their natural course.”

What he says makes perfect sense but in my
fucked up head, I couldn’t reason that out.

“I want to use.” My admission crucifies
me.

“Hell yeah, you do. It’s your way to a calm.
You’re agitated over this. Why wouldn’t you want to use?”

“Exactly.”

“But, why won’t you? And I want
you
to answer this.”

“Because of the hell it would throw me back
into.”

“Truth, man. Kade, you know if you use
again, you’re a dead man, right? There’ll be no bringing you back.
You get that, don’t you?”

“Yeah. I get it.” The hell of withdrawing
makes me shudder. The feeling of those gnawing creatures makes me
scratch my arms. I stop myself. I find my eyes drawn to the ink
that covers my arm. The scars were so atrocious I got fed up with
people staring at them, hence the sleeve.

“They barely got you back from it the last
time. It was a fucking miracle. You need to check into Living Free?
That’s always an option.”

My neck is fucking on fire. Muscles are
alive with knives gouging into them and I can feel the beginnings
of a migraine. Wheels are spinning in my vision. I need to take my
rescue meds fast.

“I’m getting a damn migraine.”

“Take your rescue,” Mack advises.

“Hang on.”

I keep the shit everywhere, so I open a desk
drawer and pull one out. They’re the melt-on-your-tongue kind and I
pop one into my mouth. They taste like shit, but they work within
thirty minutes.

“I’m back.”

“So. Living Free? You never answered.”

“Mack, I need to figure this shit out.”

“Yes, you do.”

“Seriously man, I just don’t get why she
doesn’t want one last night with me.”

He blows an infuriating sigh into the phone.
“You’re an idiot where women are concerned. When’s the last time
you dated?”

“I’ve never dated.”

“No damn wonder,” he mutters. “Listen to
what I’m telling you. Women want to be wooed. They don’t want wham,
bam, fuck you ma’am. They don’t to be banged to death and then—see
ya.”

“I wanted to make it up to her … the fiasco
fuck we had.”

“Maybe she didn’t see it like that. In any
case, back the fuck off and let her take the lead, dude, or you’re
gonna lose out.”

“Okay, okay, I hear you.”

“Getting back to your avoidance—do you need
to check into Living Free? And if you don’t answer me I’m coming
over and kicking your slack ass.”

“No! If I do, I’ll speak it out.”

“Got ya. Call me back if you need me.”

“Thanks, man.”

“Peace.”

This is a shit-tastrophe. What the hell have
I done? The first woman to enter my life that my dick responds to,
I go all fuzzy-fucked on and act like some horny teenager. Now
she’s probably out there, thinking I’m some creepy ex-drug addict
that’s perving to get into her pussy for the fun of it. She knows
I’m like short fused TNT around her. What the hell was I
thinking?

“
That was the problem, you filthy piece
of trash. You weren’t thinking. You never think. Except when you
want your veins filled with that shit you’re so in love
with.”

The Dragon’s voice fills my gray matter and
my skull is crushed with a sledgehammer.
Get out of my head, you
bastard!

My hands rub my forehead, in an attempt to
stem the splitting pain. It will subside soon. But the next few
minutes will be brutal. Leaning back in the chair, I close my eyes,
shutting out the world.

Gentle wings flutter across my hands,
pushing them out of the way. They move onto my temples, rubbing
perfect circles, as soothing relief inches into me. When they land
above my eyes, I moan, as the tension siphons out of those muscles.
Her fingers know how to make the crushing pain become bearable. She
does this thing on my scalp, moving from forehead to the back of my
head that is miraculous. Now she works on the back of my neck,
where it all began. Knowing fingers slide up and down at the source
of the evil, dispelling it, casting it out, and I want to cry out
in joy. How does she do this?

Her hands slow down and I capture them, as I
would precious birds. Raising them to my lips, I kiss each one and
then I raise my head so I can see this wondrous being that has
pulled me out of such pain.

“Thank you.” My voice is raw, hoarse with
I’m not sure what.

“Migraine?”

“Yes.”

“Why didn’t you say something?”

Giving my head a slight shake, I say, “It
only came on when I was talking to Mack.”

“Mack?”

“My NA counselor.”

She kneels, fucking kneels, between my
knees. “Are you okay?”

“Get up.”

A questioning look alters her
expression.

“Don’t
ever
kneel before me. You are
a far better person than I and don’t argue with me over that. Now
stand, please.”

She opens her mouth to argue, I imagine, but
then shuts it and stands. Her tongue pokes into her cheek, making a
bulge on the outside. I reach out my hand and brush my thumb over
it.

“You’re irritated with me, aren’t you?” I
ask.

“Yeah, I am. You have no confidence in
yourself. I was kneeling so we could be on eye level. Not because I
was bowing before you or anything ridiculous like that. It was more
comfortable for me. You’re a strange man, Kade.”

“I know. And if you could see a tenth of
what’s in my head, you would run away from here, screaming, like
you’ve never screamed before.”

“Oh, are you ever wrong. You see, I’ve seen
my worst nightmare in living color. And I ran from that. Trust me,
nothing can ever compare again. Nothing. So stuff whatever’s in
your head away, and maybe someday, you’ll trust me enough, or
believe in me enough to tell me about it. I’m not fragile and I’m
not afraid of what’s in there. I’m afraid of what’s in your
backyard.”

She sure knows how to shut me up and put me
in my place. But she’s right. I walk around, thinking I have it so
terrible. That my life is the worst thing imaginable. But not once
do I ever think of what others have lived through, such as
Juliette. She’s seen her family massacred. She devised and
implemented a plan to survive. And here she stands, proud and brave
enough to confront me. I need to man up and be the person she needs
me to be. If I don’t, this budding relationship will run out of
gas, fast.

“You’re right. You’re stronger than I give
you credit for. I apologize. And let me say this. I respect your
decision to go back to the convent. That’s not to say I like it.
But I understand.”

“You do?”

“I do. It was selfish of me to try to
persuade you to do otherwise. And it would be too risky for you.
Again, I’m sorry. Seems I’m built on a foundation of sorrys.” I
give her a pitiful look. That gets a giggle out of her.

“Is your headache better?”

“Yeah, I think your massage and my rescue
med kicked in. You have magic hands, my little mouse.”

“Mouse, huh?”

“Yeah. Most people don’t like them, but when
I was a kid, they were the only pets I could keep hidden that my
father wouldn’t find. So I have a great love for the little
buggers. I would actually catch them and keep them for pets.”

“You didn’t. You mean the outside kind?”

“Yep. I would feed and coax them into a
little box. They were my only friends. We weren’t allowed to have
friends. Not that anyone would’ve wanted to
be
our friends.
All the kids at school were afraid of Langston, our father. Their
parents wouldn’t let them befriend us. I don’t blame them, but we
were all ostracized. It wasn’t a great upbringing, by any account.
Kestrel and I were bullied a lot. But we didn’t dare tell Langston.
That would’ve made it worse for us in school. Kolson rode horses,
so he spent a ton of time at the stables and then at competitions
so he was away a lot.”