Turn To Me (35 page)

“Kade, stop,” I protested.  “You shouldn't...touch me like that.”  I tried to step away, but didn't get far.  His hands gripped my flesh more tightly, pulling me against his body.  I gasped, his aggression making my heart race even as I castigated myself.  The last thing I should do was encourage him.

“Why not?  We're two consenting adults.”  He leaned forward, his lips by my ear.  “I know you want me, princess.”

My eyes slid closed in dismay even as a tremor went through me at the lightest touch of his mouth.  “Just because you have a file on me, doesn't mean you know me or what I want,” I managed, grasping his wrists and tugging them from underneath my skirt.  He allowed me to move his hands, but they only retreated to my waist.

“I know you better than you think,” he said, his eyes boring into mine.  “I know that you wanted to be a lawyer, which is why you got a job at the firm.  I know that piece of crap car you had was one of your sole possessions.  I know that you avoid sad movies because you hate to cry.”

“What are you doing, Kade?  Why are you telling me this?”  His intensity was scaring me, as was how much he really did know about me.

“I also know that the last thing you want to do is trust someone, because everyone you've ever loved has left you.  And I know this because we're the same, you and me.  Trust, love – those things are more dangerous than knives or bullets.”

I was shaking now, feeling the weight of his words sink in.  It was true, all of it.  I'd been terrified of trusting Blane, afraid of how I might grow to care about him and be hurt when he didn't feel the same.  Of course, I'd been right. 

“Trust is hard-earned, princess, and I didn't mean to break the little trust you had in me.” 

I was startled.  That almost sounded like an apology. 

“The file on you started as a background check.  Then I met you.”  His eyes flicked down to my mouth and his hands moved to frame my face.  “Then I kissed you, touched you, worked side by side with you.”

I waited, barely breathing, to see if he would say more.  His gaze seemed fevered, so intently was he staring into my eyes. 

“And suddenly, I care about more than just Blane and my own hide,” he confessed.  “And I didn't want to.  I've fought it and I tried to hate you, tried to despise you, but I can't.” 

My emotions threatened to overwhelm me.  It was too much.  All this time, I'd thought Kade had hated me, barely tolerated me.  Now he was telling me that I'd been very, very wrong.  I was floored, stunned.  I drank in the honesty in his eyes, my chest aching.

I wanted to tell him.  Wanted to say that yes, I cared about him, too.  That despite how he'd treated me, like a wounded animal lashing out at anyone who tried to care for it, I had grown to want him in my life, to want him with an intensity that frightened me.

Kade wanted me.  The idea rocked me.  He was a man who had cared for no one and nothing but himself and Blane for as long as he could remember. 

The sudden thought of Blane caused the words to die on my tongue, unspoken.  What would he do if he found out?  Would they be estranged from each other because of me?  After what had happened this morning, I couldn't be sure that wasn't exactly what would happen.  I couldn't live with myself if that were true.

Making matters even worse were the feelings I had which were still very much caught up in Blane.  Were Blane and I over?  Absolutely.  Was I ready to move on?  After the scene in the hotel and my tumultuous emotions, that answer seemed to be a pretty definitive “no.” 

“Kade,” I whispered, “I can't.  Blane-”  I didn't know what else to say, my mind in a whirl of thoughts and feelings.  I searched Kade's gaze, hoping he would know what I meant, but I could tell the moment the name left my lips that Kade assumed I was rejecting him, choosing Blane instead. 

It was as if a door slammed shut, his eyes regaining their cold, calculating distance even as his face grew still and shuttered.  I could have corrected his assumption, but what did it matter in the end?  He wouldn't understand that my reason for keeping my distance was to ensure he and Blane stayed close.  It was only this morning that he'd told me to “leave it alone” when it came to him and Blane.

“Of course.  I should've known you'd still want Blane,” he said, his lips twisting in a humorless smirk.  “Even if he is screwing someone else.”

The icy anger in his eyes belied the lack of emotion in his voice.  I didn't know what to say, how to make it better.  I'd hurt him, though he'd probably cut off his own arm before admitting it, and he wanted to hurt me back.  I didn't want to lose him, couldn't bear to lose someone else I cared about.

“I don't want Blane,” I said, ignoring the little voice in the back of my head that laughed in outright derision at that whopper.  “But I can't have you.  Don't you see that?”

His eyes searched mine before he finally replied, “You're the only one who sees that.”  He stepped away from me and toward the door. 

I panicked.  I couldn't just watch him walk out and leave me.  Isn't that what he said he always did?  Leave before anyone got too attached?

“Wait!” I called out. 

He paused, his hand on the doorknob.

“You said I wasn't alone,” I reminded him.  “That I had you.  Were you lying to me?”  I was ruthlessly using his own words against him.  I needed him and I wasn't about to let him go, no matter the many reasons why I should.

He turned, his face a mix of shadows cast by the light from the tree.

“No,” he said, the word seeming to cost him something to utter.  “I wasn't lying.  I won’t leave you alone.  It's just better for me to not be in here tonight.  I'll be close.”

The knot inside my stomach eased and my eyes shut with relief.  When I opened them, he was still watching me.

“Will I see you tomorrow?”

“We have a case to solve,” he reminded me, “and it's not going away.  Just put some fucking clothes on before I see you again,” he said, twisting the doorknob open. 

I stiffened.  “You know I don't normally dress like this!”  My protest was directed to his back as he walked out the door, closing it behind him.  I turned away with a frustrated sigh, shoving my fingers through my hair, only to jerk back around when the door reopened. 

“And the next time I see you wearing those shoes,” Kade said, “they'll be the only thing you're wearing.”

Chapter Thirteen

I didn’t sleep well.  Kade’s last words echoed in my head and I wasn’t sure if the churning in my stomach was dread or...something else.  I couldn’t concentrate.  My feelings for Kade were too wrapped up in the anxiety and terror dogging my every move, augmented by what I’d learned about him and the horrors he’d endured when he was young.  Were we similar creatures?  I didn’t know.  What I did know was that I hadn’t wanted him to walk out that door and leave me with no idea of when I’d see him again.

Yet, I could still feel Blane’s arms around me, holding me tight as he told me how he’d been afraid he’d lost me forever.  In the dark, I imagined what might have happened if I’d given in, hugged him back and let him hold me.  Would he be here with me now?  Was I sorry he wasn’t?

Tears ran down my cheeks into the pillow as I stared sightlessly at the dark ceiling.  I wanted to sleep for a week, a month, waking only when the aching inside my chest became bearable.  I was consumed by worry and dread as I wondered if James would try to retaliate, and if whoever had blown up my car would try again to kill me.  If women were akin to cats, then I’d used up several of my nine lives.  How much longer could my luck hold?

I was up at the crack of dawn, sighing at the dark circles etched under my eyes as I surveyed my reflection in the bathroom mirror.  Too tired to care, I pulled my hair back in a tight twist, pinning it securely.  As I pulled on jeans, I noticed the waist was loose.  Well, I guess that’s one good thing to come out of all this worry and anxiety – looks like I’d lost a couple of pounds, though I didn't think I'd be recommending the Stalker Diet to my friends.

Abruptly, I remembered the phone I had stolen.  Grabbing my purse, I rummaged until I’d found it.  I pressed the buttons and the screen lit, asking for an unlock code.  Crap.  Okay, well, I could give it to Kade.  Maybe the cyber-genius could crack it.

My phone rang, interrupting my thoughts. 

“Hello?”

“Um, hi,” a female voice said hesitantly.  “Is this Kathleen Turner?”

“It is,” I replied.  “May I ask who’s calling?”

“This is Stacey Willows.  You came by the other day to ask me about Kyle and the mission in Iraq?”

A hint of excitement bubbled inside my chest.  This could be the break I’d been waiting for.  “Yes, I remember,” I said, careful to keep my voice calm.  “How are you, Stacey?”

“I’m...not sure,” she said.  “I think I’m in trouble.”

“How can I help you?”  Images flashed through my mind of Ron Freeman’s dead body on the floor of his kitchen.

“I think I’m being followed,” Stacey said, speaking quickly, “and I don’t know what to do.”  She paused.  “I’m scared.”

“I can help you,” I assured her, hoping that was true.  “Just tell me where I can meet you.”

“I’m afraid to leave my house,” she said, “Can you come there?”

“You bet,” I said, shoving my feet into my boots.  “I’ll be there as soon as I can.”

I hung up the phone and grabbed my purse and coat, then paused.  I knew better than to go somewhere without telling Kade first.  I dialed his number on my cell.

“Morning, princess,” Kade answered.

“Good morning,” I replied.  “Hey, I need to run an errand,” I said.  “Stacey Willows called.  I think she's being threatened as well.  She wants to see me.”

“I'll come get you,” he said.

“I can get a ride.  I think I need to get there asap.  She sounded really freaked out.”

“Not cool with that,” Kade warned.

“I'll be fine,” I said.  “Isn't this what you're paying me to do?”

“I'm paying you to investigate, not throw yourself into obviously dangerous situations,” he retorted.

“What do you think she's going to do to me?” I asked.  “Her fiancée is Kyle's commanding officer.  Nothing's going to happen.  I'll call you as soon as I'm done.”

“Fine,” he capitulated.  “But don't take chances.  Get out if it looks bad.”

“Got it,” I said. 

A few moments later, I was knocking on Alisha's door.  When she answered, she was pulling on her coat.

“Hey,” I said.  “Are you going somewhere?”

“I was just headed to the store,” she replied.  “Bits is out of treats.”

“Would you mind dropping me off?”

“Sure, no problem.”

I gave her Stacey's address and she drove me there.  I'd figure out a ride home later.  It had sounded like I needed to get to Stacey's soon.

“You sure you just want me to drop you off?” Alisha asked, eyeing Stacey's house.  “I can wait, you know.  It's not a problem.”

“No,” I said.  “I don't want to keep you.  I'll be fine.”  The last thing I wanted was for Alisha to get hurt should something go wrong.

Alisha still looked uncertain, but nodded. 

“Thanks again,” I said as I got out.  I walked up the sidewalk to the front door and knocked, watching as Alisha drove away.  Stacey answered quickly.

“I’m so glad you could come,” she said, opening the door wide enough for me to step through.  Her face was pinched and white, her eyes red-rimmed as though she’d been crying.

“I want to help you in any way-” I began, turning back toward the entry just in time to see Stacey swinging something at my head.  It was too late to duck, and I watched in stunned horror as whatever it was hit me with a sickening crack.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Consciousness came slowly, and with it, pain.  I’d had headaches before, but never before had my head hurt like this.  I painfully opened my eyes, then blinked to be sure they were open.  I was in total darkness. 

Gingerly, I put my hands out, feeling.  I was on something hard, it felt like the floor.  My hands came up against a wall.  Getting painfully up on my knees, I followed the wall, realizing I was in a small room, probably a closet by the dimensions.  I reached upward, my fingers skimming until I found a door handle.  Scooting closer, I felt something wet seep into the fabric of my jeans.  I reached down, feeling a puddle of water that seemed to be coming from underneath the door.

I paused and took a deep breath before trying the knob.  I wasn’t surprised to find it locked.  Reaching into my pocket, I silently cursed when I discovered my cell phone was no longer there.

I put my ear to the door and listened for several minutes.  I heard nothing, no sound to indicate someone might be inside the house, if indeed that’s where I was.

Turning so my back was braced against the back wall, I lashed out at the door with my legs, gritting my teeth at the sudden pain radiating in my knees and my head.  I paused, waiting to see if the loud noise would alert anyone that I was no longer unconscious.  When nothing happened, I kicked again, gratified to feel the door shudder slightly.  It took several more kicks before the door jamb finally gave, the splintering enough for me to push the latch open.

I hurriedly stood and stepped out of the closet, only to stumble over something on the floor and fall, landing in more water.  Looking over my shoulder, I saw a dark heap on the floor.

Alarmed, I scrambled up, searching for a light in the dark room.  Finally, I found the switch and flicked it on, barely stifling a scream.

Stacey’s body lay on the floor, her eyes staring sightlessly at the ceiling.  The water I’d fallen in was actually blood, a large pool of it stemming from the gash across her throat.

I looked down at myself, horrified to see I had her blood all over me, my hands, clothes, everywhere.

For a moment, I couldn’t do anything – couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think.  I was paralyzed.  All I could hear was my heart pounding in my chest.

I closed my eyes, blocking out the scene for a minute.  I had to get a grip.  I had no idea how much time I’d been unconscious, but Stacey looked like she’d been dead for hours.  Whoever had done this was probably long gone.  What to do now?  The police.  I had to call them.