Obsession (The Plus One Chronicles) (14 page)

Her father reached Kat in a couple strides, his eyes grim. “Don’t hate us. We didn’t know. You were so badly injured, then the panic attacks… Will you forgive us?”

His thick, desperate voice tugged at her heart. Once her parents had seemed so powerful to her, brilliant and successful while she was just average. But tonight they were all too human and fragile. She didn’t want to hurt them more, but nor was she going to be the old Katie who was desperate for any scrap of approval or sign of love.

“I don’t hate you, Dad. I never hated you or Mom. I love you both, so much that I tried to be the daughter you wanted for twenty-two years, but for the last six years I couldn’t do it anymore. I’m not her. I’ll never be her.” Her voice cracked.

Sloane settled his arm around her shoulders.

His quiet support flowed into her, like he could hold her heart when it got a little too heavy for her chest. The night had wrung out her emotions, from elation in having faced David, then hearing the truth of what had happened all those years ago, her mother’s cold anger at her, and now her father’s desperate plea. Part of her wanted to retreat, but part of her knew it was time to make a stand. “I guess what we have to figure out over time is if you can love and accept me for who I am now.”

Her father took a deep breath and slowly nodded. “We love you. Believe that and we’ll figure out the rest.” He glanced toward the house. “Now I’d better check on your mom.”

Sloane nudged up her chin, his eyes radiating warmth and concern. “You okay?”

Was she? Kat wished she could have Sloane like this forever. She didn’t know if they had a real future together or if they were just two people who needed each other now. But Sloane had given her the tremendous gift of herself, teaching her self-defense and supporting her. And tonight she’d faced down David, her panic attacks and her parents.

She leaned into him. “I will be.”

* * *

Kat was too keyed up to sleep. Even the warm shower hadn’t settled her any. Seeing the light on in Drake’s room, she wandered in there, surprised to see him working on his laptop. “Why are you still up?” It was well after ten.

“Couldn’t sleep.”

Kat sat on the bed. “Is your pain getting too high? Can I get you anything?”

“I’m okay.” He closed his laptop and took her hand. “I’m more concerned about you. Sloane told me what happened.” He scooted over on the bed and patted it. “Come talk to me.”

She settled next to him.

“You couldn’t sleep either?”

She studied her bare legs. When had she started walking around in sleep shorts without thinking about her scars? “I was waiting for Sloane to come to bed. He had some calls and stuff to make.” She wasn’t ready to be alone right now. Did that make her weak?

“I was always keyed up after a fight. The adrenaline rush can keep you high for hours. Then you’ll crash hard.”

Kat lifted her hand, studying it. “I still can’t believe I did it.” She’d fought back and won.

“Broke his nose, according to Sloane. He said, and I quote, ‘It was fucking beautiful.’”

A stupid-ass grin surprised her. “What a poet.”

“I’d have paid to see it. That bastard had it coming.” He took her hand in his, sliding his fingers over her wrist.

She rolled her eyes. “Sloane already checked my hand. It’s fine. Doesn’t hurt.”

“Probably will tomorrow.”

“Don’t care. It was worth it. David was so stunned. He said,
You hit me
.”

“What a dumbass. He pulled a scalpel on you.” Drake settled their hands between them on the bed. “How’d it feel when you took him down?”

She leaned back on the pillows Drake had stacked up. “A huge relief. Not just fighting back, but getting the truth out there finally. All those years, it was so frustrating that I couldn’t remember what happened. I still can’t fully remember it and probably never will. But I knew the attack hadn’t happened the way David said, and no one would believe me.”

“You feel vindicated.”

She flinched at the word. “My mom said that, only it came out an accusation.” Turning her head, she faced Drake. “But she was right, I do feel vindicated.”

“You’re human.”

“I feel bad for what they’re going to face in the coming days, weeks…could be years of trying to recover from this. David fooled us all. The only reason I wised up was because of Finn targeting me to keep David working for him.” She frowned, recalling Marshall’s reaction. “My brother was catching on to David. When he got there tonight, he told us that he and Amelia had hacked into David’s computer at work and found an income stream that wasn’t from SiriX. They surmised David was selling SiriX’s patented formulas to Finn, who was making counterfeit drugs to sell online, and they were searching his computer for evidence. That kind of piracy is big in pharmaceuticals.”

“Did they find any evidence?”

Kat shook her head. “No, and David denies it. Weirdly enough, I believe him. The money David made from steroids was a tool to obtain the life he craved—being a rich and renowned scientist, marrying me and owning part of SiriX. In his twisted way, he was protecting SiriX and I suppose me too. So much so that he killed Finn. He told the truth about that too. The police found Finn’s body exactly as David confessed.” It was all so surreal. “David murdering Finn with a lethal injection is so far beyond the man I thought I knew.”

Hard-earned wisdom shone in Drake’s eyes. “Killing isn’t as difficult as it seems. It’s the living with it after that can break a man.”

Kat never imagined she’d be here—sitting on the bed with a man who’d killed someone. She’d been raised with the notion that only the lowest forms of humanity committed acts of violence.

And yet this man she sat with now had, in her view, changed countless lives for the better. Her parents created therapeutics to improve lives, and that was important. But Drake gave lost kids hope and guidance, and that was priceless. In many ways, he had more true compassion and humanity than her parents. Every breath he took held a note of regret for a single moment in his life.

Kat gently squeezed his hand. “It didn’t break you. Instead you used it to guide you into a better man.” A man she’d come to love in a special way. “David was cracking under the strain of his secrets and the guilt that he refused to accept. When I told him that the steroids led to Ethan’s heart attack, he said Ethan wasn’t important.” She leaned over, hugging him. “You’re nothing like David.”

His eyes took on a sheen. “I think you helped me find some of the words I need.”

She settled back against the pillows. “For?”

“Writing letters to people I care about. Once I’m gone, I want them to know how important they were in my life.”

Oh God, that hurt. She tried to imagine Sloane reading a letter from Drake after… Heartbreaking, and yet he’d have something he could hold on to. Sara had been ripped away from him with no goodbyes or I love yous. No closure. Kat didn’t know what to say except, “You’re leaving them a priceless part of you. That will mean everything to them.” Damn it, she would not cry.

“Maybe for some, but this letter is for Evie.” He touched the closed laptop resting on his legs as gently as Kat imagined him touching his lost love’s face. “I want her to know that I’m sorry. I loved her, and while I was supposed to protect her, I had no right to take away her father. I hope I find all the words I need in time.”

Was that what kept Drake up so late? Old regrets? Needing to make things right? Kat clutched Drake’s hand in both of hers. She wanted to give him absolution, but she couldn’t. Kat hadn’t been there that day. She truly didn’t know if Drake had gone too far. The reality was Drake believed he had. A man’s life was on his conscience, as was Evie’s grief. “Tell her what you told me—the truth. And then tell her that she made you a better man, that you grew from your mistake and you hope she can know that you learned how to love—even if it couldn’t be her.”

Drake stared at his computer then lifted his eyes to her. “Sloane’s a lucky man.”

It was Kat who was lucky. “I’d never have found the courage to face all that happened tonight without him. Even now, I don’t want to go to sleep without him.” Okay Drake probably didn’t need to know that.

Drake set his computer aside and picked up the remote. “Let’s watch TV until Sloane figures out you’re missing.”

* * *

Sloane’s blood hummed with violence. Seeing Dickhead put the scalpel to Kat’s throat had ignited a possessiveness that went beyond sane.

He’d been ready to kill the fucker.

Kat had held him back with her simple plea. Then she’d taken Dickhead down, and fierce pride had grabbed Sloane by the balls.

He wanted her, needed her with that edge of violence… Yeah, he’d left her to go to bed without him. Couldn’t trust himself to get in the goddamned bed with her and not rip her clothes off.

Kat didn’t need this animalistic side of him. She was still healing from the car accident and trying to process everything that had happened tonight. She didn’t need Sloane losing control and fucking her hard. Deep. Until he knew she was alive and his.

Shit. Sloane had made his calls, reviewed Foster’s training video and now he paced his office.

He glanced at his watch. Nearly midnight. Kat had to be asleep by now. He’d slide into bed and pull her to him. That would calm him down. As long as she was asleep, he’d stay in control. He left his office.

A minute later Sloane stared at the empty bed in confusion. Where was she? But there was only one place she would go. He headed back downstairs and stopped in the doorway of Drake’s room.

“She fell asleep waiting for you.”

His heart swelled at the sight of her curled up next to Drake. Her long hair spilled over the side of the bed, and she had Drake’s hand clutched in hers. He moved closer, unable to stop staring at her. “Looks like the adrenaline crash caught up with her.”

“Went out like a light. She didn’t want to be by herself.”

He waited for the stab of guilt for leaving her alone, but it didn’t come. Kat had been giving him space much like he’d given her after they’d argued the other night. Instead she’d gone to Drake, finding her own way to get the comfort she needed. Or maybe she was comforting Drake. Probably some of both, judging by the content look in Drake’s eyes. “Am I going to have to fight you for my woman?”

His mouth curved. “Think you’re good enough?”

“To fight you? Any day. For Kat?” Sloane traced one of the pink streaks in her strands. “No.” How could someone like him be good enough for Kat?

“Be good enough, Sloane. A woman like Kat only comes once in a lifetime.”

He didn’t have an answer for that. Why did it feel like no matter what choice he made, there was going to be an unbearable consequence? If he let Foster live, that motherfucker would come after what Sloane loved. If he killed Foster, Kat would look at him like she’d looked at David tonight.

It was an impossible choice.

Chapter Ten

Wednesday afternoon, Sloane stood at the end of Drake’s bed, arms crossed and fighting down his impatient worry as the doctor went through his examination.

Drake glared at him. “Zack didn’t need to call you or the doctor.”

“He did if he wants to keep his job as one of your nurses.” Sloane was not fucking around about this. The nurse had phoned and told him that Drake was running a low-grade fever, so Sloane dropped everything and came home.

The doctor pressed the stethoscope against Drake’s back. “Cough, Mr. Vaughn.”

The rough cough caused Drake to wince.

Finally, the doctor closed the bag. “Let’s do an IV with antibiotics and fluids.”

“I don’t want an IV.”

Sloane couldn’t stand still any longer. He snatched the shirt from the end of the bed and dropped it over Drake’s head, then sat down and leaned in. He ignored the crankiness. Sloane would be pissy too if his body progressively and ruthlessly betrayed him more each day, methodically stripping away layer after layer of his dignity and independence.

“Do the IV. No hospitals, no extreme measures. I hear you, I get it.” Like it or not, he had to honor that. Drake was tired. Sloane could see death creeping farther into the man’s eyes every fucking day. But he was not going to send death an engraved invitation by letting an infection gain a foothold without making a token effort.