Turn on a Dime - Blane's Turn (27 page)

It took him a few minutes to find her, and when he did, the anger he’d felt earlier was a pale shadow of the raging jealousy that consumed him now.

Kathleen and James were seated on a couch in a private alcove, James’s head buried in her neck, his arm around her shoulders.

“Mercury,” Blane barked, his hands clenching in fists. James didn’t react, but Kathleen did, jerking back, her gaze flying to his. “Mercury,” Blane repeated more harshly. James finally looked up.

“What do you want?” he asked. “Can’t you see I’m busy?” He attempted to pull Kathleen closer for a kiss, but she turned her head and tried to push him away.

The sight of Kat struggling against James’s advances broke the fragile grip Blane had on his control. Snarling in anger, Blane grabbed the collar of James’s tux and hauled his ass off the couch.

“The Patron wants to speak with you,” he said, giving James a hard shove out of the alcove. James looked pissed and Blane would have liked nothing more than to kick his ass again, but he just walked away, leaving Blane alone with Kat.

“Lorelei, I believe?” he asked, approaching her. Kat just nodded and he wondered if she really thought he hadn’t recognized her. “I was told you were looking for me.” Blane took the seat James had vacated, draping his arm on the couch behind her and sitting close enough that she was forced to tip her head back to look at him.

“Yes, I was,” she said. Her voice oozed southern elegance, the words lilting in a soft cadence that was utterly charming. “I was told you might be looking for someone with whom you could spend some . . . quality . . . time.”

Was this a game? Or was she really a prostitute that had been sent to trap him? Blane studied her. Under the façade of southern belle, she was nervous. Her hands were restlessly gripping the fabric of her dress, her eyes darting to his and away.

“Are you offering?” he asked, wanting to see how far she’d take this.

“Perhaps,” she breathed, managing a fake smile.

“I can be quite demanding,” he said, his gaze falling to her lips. “And I don’t share.” He couldn’t deny the urge to kiss her any longer, his body hungering to again feel hers beneath him.

Kat responded immediately, her mouth opening beneath his while her arms lifted to circle his neck, her fingers pushing into his hair.

Blane wrapped his arms around her waist, pulling her closer, as logical thought fled in the face of the fire burning through his veins. At the moment, he didn’t care who she was or if she had played him. He just wanted her.

His mouth trailed down her neck to the tops of her breasts. Blane didn’t hesitate to pull her dress down, exposing her plump breasts to his hungry gaze. He groaned, fitting his lips over a nipple and covering the other with his palm. Kat’s hands clutched him to her and Blane could feel the racing of her heart inside her chest.

It was the matter of a moment to slide a hand up her skirt, her thighs parting eagerly for him. The lace covering her was no barrier as Blane moved it aside to push a finger insider her wet heat. Kat whimpered as he stroked her dripping folds, finding her clit and teasing it. She was so wet, her tight passage gripping his finger and making him wild with wanting her, consequences be damned.

“God, Kat, what you do to me,” he murmured, pressing his lips to hers again.

At the sound of her name, she began struggling. “Let me go, Blane,” she hissed, pushing at his shoulders. So she’d really thought he hadn’t recognized her.

“Did you think I wouldn’t know it was you?” he whispered in her ear. His hand still moved, his fingers coated with her arousal. Her hips lifted to meet his thrusting fingers. “Did you think I wouldn’t recognize this body? The way your skin tastes, the softness of you against my fingers, the sounds you make when I touch you?”

Blane bent his head to suckle her breasts, his teeth gently tugging her nipple before he soothed it with his tongue. Kat gasped and Blane smiled as she stopped struggling. He stroked her clit, intent on her falling apart in his arms, eager to hear her make those sounds again. She was close, he could tell—

A blinding pain struck the back of his head and everything went dark.

Blane woke to Kade shaking him and a dull headache that promised to be worse later. Blane groaned as he sat up, clutching his head.

“What the hell happened?” Kade asked, standing from where he’d been crouched next to Blane.

Blane’s eyes fell on a candlestick lying on the floor. “She must’ve hit me with that,” he said.

“She
hit
you?” Kade said furiously. “That could’ve killed you.”

“Relax,” Blane said. “It was my own fault.” He’d pushed her, giving her no option but to do something drastic. He was willing to bet Kat had no idea what she was involved in, which side he was on, or how dangerous this was.

“We need to leave,” he said to Kade. “Did you see where she went?”

“Fuck no. I was a little busy checking to see if you were alive or dead.”

“Get the car. Meet me out front,” Blane ordered, getting to his feet.

Kade gave a curt nod and left. Now to find Kat.

Blane took a quick trip around the room, but didn’t see Kat anywhere. Had she gone? She’d been scared, he knew that much, and he’d been responsible for part of her fear. Someone had tipped the scales against him, setting it up so she’d think he’d killed Sheila.

Emerging from the room into the hallway, Blane headed for the front door, only to spy Jimmy dragging someone the same direction. Blane stepped up his pace as they turned a corner and he recognized the dress.

Jimmy had Kathleen.

Seventeen Years Ago

When your world falls apart, it seldom gives any warning. It just . . . happens. Kade should’ve known that better than anyone. And yet, it still took him by surprise.

It happened when he was walking home from the bus stop. It was the beginning of March so it was cold, but spring was a scent in the air.

A car pulled up beside him, their speed matching Kade’s pace. He glanced over and his blood went cold.

“Hey, Kade. Where you been?”

The guy talking to him sat in the passenger seat of the rundown Buick, the window rolled down so he could stick his head out. It was Willie.

Willie was twenty and had been living on the streets since he was eight. He’d survived, even thrived, making himself leader of a gang of thieves and prostitutes and even sold drugs on the side. Kade had met him the first time he’d run away from the orphanage.

“What do you want?” Kade asked, still walking. Willie’d had Kade steal before, when it was either do that or starve. Small, quick, and quiet, Kade had broken into a few houses, handing over the stolen items in return for food and a bed for the night. Willie had wanted Kade to turn tricks, too, said he’d make good money at it, but Kade hadn’t been able to bring himself to do it.

“Heard you done got yourself a Daddy Warbucks,” Willie said. “A rich dude who took a shine to your skinny, white ass. That true?”

“Nah, man. Just another foster home,” Kade lied, his step quickening. The car picked up its pace as well. He could see Blane’s house up ahead. Part of him wanted to run to it, to the safety it represented. But the part of him that would always be a part of the streets knew that safety was an illusion. And he’d lead them right to Blane.

Kade stopped. “I ain’t got nothin for you,” he told Willie.

Willie got out of the car just as Kade saw Blane emerge from the house and head his way. Sometimes he met Kade walking home.

“Listen up,” Willie said. “I don’t give a shit what you think you got or don’t got. You’re livin in a fuckin mansion now and you owe me.”

“I don’t owe you shit,” Kade retorted, praying this would be over soon. He didn’t want Blane to see.

Willie grabbed Kade by the collar, hauling him up to his face as he bent down.

“Don’t be mouthin me, boy,” he hissed. “I’ll cut out your fuckin tongue and feed it to the dogs.” A knife flashed in his hand.

Kade stared him down though he was quaking inside. He refused to show fear to this motherfucker.

“Kade?”

Kade heard Blane’s call and glanced behind Willie to see that Blane had spotted them. In a second, he was running flat out toward them.

“Aw, tha’s so sweet,” Willie sneered. “Looks like he likes you a helluva lot.” He shook Kade until his teeth rattled. “You better bring me somethin good tomorrow, or maybe we’ll hafta pay your sugar daddy a visit. Tell him all the shit you done. He’ll have you in juvie so fast, it’ll make your head spin.”

Willie gave Kade a shove, knocking him to the ground before jumping back in the car. It sped away in a squeal of smoke and tires just as Blane got to him.

“Kade!” he reached down, helping Kade to his feet. “Are you okay? Who was that?”

“Nobody,” Kade said, brushing off his jeans. Blane picked up his backpack from where it had fallen.

“Don’t give me that,” Blane said. “That asshole touched you, knocked you down. If you know who it was, then by God you’d better tell me.”

There was no way in hell Kade was telling Blane about Willie. How could he possibly explain that he’d broken into people’s homes and stolen from them? He’d see Kade as a thief, or worse.

“It was just some creepy dude who stopped to harass me,” Kade lied. He could tell Blane was angry, but knew it wasn’t directed at him.

Blane studied him and Kade held his gaze. He knew if he looked away or faltered, Blane would know he was lying. After a moment, Blane relented.

“All right, but I don’t want you walking home alone from the bus stop anymore. I’ll pick you up from now on.”

Kade nodded, trying not to show the relief he felt that Blane had dropped it. As they walked back to the house, he half-listened to Blane talk as he tried to figure out what he was going to do. Willie wouldn’t just go away, and now he knew where Kade, and subsequently Blane, lived. He wanted money, wanted Kade to steal from Blane, and that was something Kade refused to do.

His only real option was staring him in the face, but he didn’t want to think about it. Not yet.

They reached the house and Kade headed upstairs, which was unusual since his first destination upon getting home from school was invariably the kitchen.

Blane stood frowning at the foot of the stairs as Kade disappeared inside his room. Kade had lied to him about that guy, he was sure of it. Luckily, Blane’s memory was such that he’d gotten the plate off the car. He headed to the den to call a buddy whose dad was a cop. With any luck, Blane would know by morning who the asshole was who’d roughed up Kade.

Kade stood upstairs, staring at his room. His room. It had been the first time since his mom died that he had a place to call his own. He should have known it wouldn’t last. Life just wasn’t like that, not for him. For Blane maybe, but he deserved it. He was a good guy, honest and loyal, with all those big words grownups liked—character, integrity, honor. None of those traits described Kade.

He was an orphan with too much street dirt coated on his skin to ever be clean. The things he’d done—the things that had been done to him—if Blane knew even half of it, he’d never look at him the same. And Kade couldn’t stand to see the disgust in Blane’s eyes, or worse, pity. Kade should’ve known it wouldn’t be so easy to escape who he really was, though it had been nice pretending for a while.

At dinner, Kade tried to memorize the feeling of being part of a family. Mona teased Gerard about his inability to capture the two chipmunks tearing up the flower beds out back while Blane chuckled. Gerard threatened to make Blane help him but Blane held his hands up in surrender.

“I won’t be party to the capture and possible maiming of Chip and Dale,” he said with a grin. “Next thing you know, all the woodland creatures will be ganging up on you. They talk, you know.” He winked at Kade.

Kade tried to smile, but his chest hurt. His stomach churned as he ate, but he forced the food down anyway. God only knew when he’d get another meal, much less one like this.

He caught Blane looking at him a few times, his gaze thoughtful, but he didn’t say anything.

Kade waited until the house was quiet and still. It was late, nearly two a.m., before he shrugged on his coat and backpack. He didn’t take any of the new possessions Blane had given him. What use did he have on the streets for a remote-control helicopter? The only thing he did take, the thing he couldn’t leave behind, was the key. Finding a string, he tied it around his neck, the cold metal pressing against his chest underneath his shirt.

Kade crept down the stairs, skipping over the one step he knew squeaked. He was almost to the front door when the hallway light came on.

“Where you going, Kade?”

Kade turned around to see Blane standing a few feet away in front of the open door to the den. Shit. There wasn’t anything he could say, so he remained silent.

“Why would you do this to me?” Blane asked. “Again? I thought we had a deal, that you liked it here.”