Turning Point (The Kathleen Turner Series) (25 page)

BOOK: Turning Point (The Kathleen Turner Series)
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“You wouldn’t be the kind of person I know you to be if you didn’t care what happened to Kade,” he said.

That brought a tiny smile to my face and I breathed a sigh of relief. My resolve to kick Kade’s ass the next time he made some suggestive remark or innuendo was strengthened. I wasn’t going to let him goad me into doing something that would hurt all three of us.

At my insistence, Blane helped me into the shower. There was no way I was going to sleep like this, and he was waiting for me when I got out. He didn’t suggest I go to a different room, and I didn’t say anything either. I climbed
into bed beside him and crawled into his waiting arms. I sighed in contentment. The warm skin of his chest pressed against my cheek. His arms and body surrounding me made me feel safe and protected. His lips brushed my forehead.

I wondered where Kade was but didn’t dare ask. I hoped he was okay, that he was getting some rest.

The last thing that stole unbidden through my mind before I drifted to sleep was the image of the senator lying in wait for me.

I was choking on dust, the gritty feel of it clogging my throat, my nose. The explosion had ripped everything apart and I recognized nothing that had been.

They were coming. I could hear them, their voices, coming closer.

I had to find him, had to get to him before they found me.

I tore through the debris, each piece seeming heavier than the last. The sense of urgency overwhelmed me as I heard the sound of approaching footsteps.

Gunshots. I cried out. Standing, I tried to run, but there was nowhere to go. More gunshots. I fell, tripping over something. It was a man’s body. Dreading the truth, but unable to halt the compulsion to see, I crept closer. My hand shook as I pushed away the cloth covering his face.

Blood trailed from his mouth in a sluggish stream while sightless green eyes stared up at me.

I screamed and screamed and screamed.

“Kathleen!”

I came abruptly awake, panic and despair still clawing at my throat. The dream had felt so real, the taste of dust still in my mouth.

A cold sweat covered my skin, and my chest heaved from my frantic gasps for air. Blane brushed my tangled hair back from my face.

“It’s just a nightmare,” he said quietly. “You’re all right.”

I turned to him, the pale moonlight streaming through the window behind him casting shadows and pools of light across his shoulders. His face remained in darkness.

I felt cold from the inside out and brittle as glass, my emotions balanced on the edge of a knife. I’d never felt this way before, this out of control, as though my life were in a tailspin.

But Blane was real. He could anchor me, ground me.

Without a word, I got to my knees, my arms crossing over my chest to tug my nightgown over my head. I let the gossamer fabric fall from my fingers as my arms rested against my sides. The moonlight caressed my naked breasts like a lover’s touch. The length of my hair brushed the middle of my back.

I could feel Blane’s eyes on me. The width and breadth of his shoulders was clearly outlined in the moonlit glow. He was still, so I remained still as well. My gaze was locked on his unfathomable eyes, denied to me in the shadows.

Finally, he spoke. “You’re perfect, Kat. We’re perfect together.” His voice was a gravelly rasp. At some other time, perhaps I would consider his words and preen with feminine pride at the awe in his voice. But not tonight.

“Show me.” My request was breathless, but perhaps only I could hear the tinge of desperation.

“With pleasure.”

He took his time, mapping and relearning every curve, dip, and hollow of my body. His hands touched, caressed, stroked. And where his hands went, his mouth followed, until I was begging for him, needing to feel him inside me. He covered my body with his much larger one, and I felt the fragility of being the weaker sex, but I didn’t mind. He was hard and strong everywhere, under my palms, against my belly, between my thighs. When I cried out his name, his lips took the syllables from my mouth. And afterward, when I lay boneless and sated in his arms, my thoughts were finally, thankfully, quiet.

The sun was streaming through the window when I woke, and when I moved, my whole body protested.

I blinked, clearing the sleep from my eyes, automatically reaching for Blane. My hand encountered nothing but sheets and empty space. Sitting up, I glanced toward his pillow and saw a single red rose and a folded piece of paper. There were only two words written inside, and I recognized Blane’s handwriting.

Be mine.

I smiled. Today was Valentine’s Day.

That lifted my spirits. I loved holidays, any holiday, and Valentine’s had always been a favorite, though I’d seldom had a boyfriend for the occasion. Rather, I’d enjoyed using the holiday to surprise friends with little tokens of affection, a box of candy, or a funny card. People always appreciated
the unexpected. As for me, I never expected anything, which was good, considering I rarely received anything.

I showered and dressed, changing into a pair of jeans and thick sweater I found in the other bedroom, and I wondered where Blane had gone. It was nearing noon—I’d slept the morning away. I headed downstairs, in search of him and coffee.

Voices were coming from Blane’s study, but when I recognized one of them as Kade’s, I hesitated.

I didn’t know how to act after last night, how to behave. While it may have been fine to handle the situation alone with Blane, I felt very anxious about being in the same room with both him and Kade. If they were talking, that meant they were getting along and working together. My being there would only cause awkwardness and tension, which I was loath to do.

Steeling my resolve, and my courage, I tentatively knocked on the half-closed door and peered inside.

Both Blane and Kade turned to look at me. My eyes brushed Kade’s before I fixed my attention on Blane, though I could feel Kade’s penetrating gaze on me.

“I need to head home,” I told him. “I have to work this afternoon.”

Blane’s body stiffened, his face a mask. “I want you to stop working at Xtreme,” he said.

I walked a few steps into the room, my temper igniting at his order. “Well, that’s not going to happen,” I said tartly, throwing his own words back at him. “A woman who works there knows what happened to Amanda, and I’m going to find her. And last night I saw Matt Summers there, too. You know, the guy you’re defending? I watched him
rape another woman last night. Lucky she’s not pressing charges, eh?”

Blane’s steely gaze met my angry one. I was still having a really hard time reconciling the man I thought I knew with the persona of an ambitious lawyer who would trade an acquittal for campaign cash.

“Maybe you’d better listen to Mr. Overprotective this time around, princess,” Kade threw in. I glared at him.

Blane tossed a folder down onto the desk he stood behind. “Take a look at this, and maybe you’ll change your mind.” Curious, I stepped closer to see, then gasped.

Pictures of Chance stared up at me.

I snatched up the photos, thumbing through them. I could tell they’d been taken from a distance and at night, but Chance was unmistakable, though I didn’t recognize the man he was with.

“Where did you get these?” I asked.

“Whoever your friend is,” Blane bit out, “he’s involved in some serious shit. You know who that man is with him?” He didn’t wait for me to answer. “His name is Fernando Alvarez. You know what he specializes in? How he makes his money?”

Blane’s anger robbed me of speech, and I only shook my head.

“He likes to sell things. Preferably women. Usually, they’re from some god-awful third-world country where they think anything would be endurable, just to get to America. He gets them here, then sells them into slavery.”

My eyes widened in horror. I looked back at the pictures. “That… that’s impossible! Chance would never—”

“His name is Chance?” Kade cut in, standing now, right next to me. “Chance who?”

I closed my mouth with a snap.

“How can we find him?” Blane asked. “If he’s a friend of yours, maybe we can get him to help us. Is he in it for the money?”

I shook my head. “Chance would never get involved in something like this,” I denied. “You’re wrong, both of you.”

“He’s the right-hand guy,” Kade retorted. “I don’t know what he’s told you, but he’s been in the middle of several deals going down and transports of cargo.”

I looked blankly at him.

“Women,” he clarified. “Girls. Some as young as thirteen, fourteen.”

I felt like I was going to be sick, my stomach rolling. I had to get out of here, away from the photos that didn’t lie.

Turning on my heel, I hurried out of the room.

“Kathleen—” Kade said, then Blane interrupted him.

“Let her go. Give her a minute.”

I walked quickly down the hall, ending up in the kitchen without realizing where I’d been going. I couldn’t think about Chance, couldn’t consider the possibility that he’d do those things. No. It had to be a lie. There had to be some sort of explanation, even if I had seen him accompany that white van the other night. My stomach clenched. Had the van been full of… women?

“Good morning!” Mona greeted me cheerfully. “Coffee?”

“Yes, please.” I smiled reflexively at her warm welcome.

“Gerard got your car for you this morning,” she said as poured some coffee into a cup, added cream and sugar, and handed it to me. “If you have need of it today.”

“That’s great,” I said, sipping the dark brew and welcoming the escape she’d just handed me. “I… need to get to work this afternoon anyway.”

“The keys are on the counter.” She motioned vaguely with her hand. “I was just getting ready to call the boys for lunch. Are you hungry?”

My eyes widened as panic set in. I wasn’t ready, couldn’t face seeing them with accusations in their eyes. Was I protecting someone who dealt in human trafficking?

“Actually, I need to get going,” I blurted, setting down the coffee and grabbing up the keys. I’d left my purse in the car, so hopefully, it was still in there. “Please tell”—I paused, stumbling over whether to say Blane or Kade—“… them… that I had to go.”

“But you haven’t eaten yet!” Mona protested.

“Sorry,” I said, pulling open the kitchen door. “Gotta run. Happy Valentine’s Day, Mona.”

“You, too,” she called after me.

I was such a coward. I berated myself, my procrastination, my propensity to avoid conflict, all of it, all the way home.

Mona had been right. I should have eaten. In spite of all I’d been through, my stomach was growling, so I ran through a drive-thru on the way home. It took forever and my patience was at an end when I finally pulled into my parking lot. Since it was Valentine’s Day, I’d gotten a chocolate shake. Every girl should get some kind of chocolate on Valentine’s Day, I figured.

Juggling my keys as I crossed the parking lot, I wasn’t paying attention to anything other than the smell of the
fries in the bag, which was why I was completely unprepared when I heard him.

“Where the hell have you been?”

I shrieked and spun around, dropping my shake on the ground. Chance stood behind me, arms crossed over his chest.

“Damn it!” I looked down at the oozing chocolatey mess. “Look what you made me do!”

“I’ve been waiting for you all night. Where were you?”

Everything that Blane and Kade had said about Chance flooded my mind. Chance had lied to me. Had turned into everything I despised. A red haze clouded my vision.

“You son of a bitch!” I yelled while flying at him, my fists hitting him anywhere I could reach. “How could you do that?”

“What the fuck, Kathleen!” Chance exclaimed, grabbing my arms. In seconds, he’d immobilized me, locking my arms together and spinning me around so my back pressed against his chest. “What the hell are you yelling about?”

“I’m yelling about your chosen career,” I seethed. “The one you haven’t said much about. You know, the one where you sell women and girls to be sex slaves.”

Chance went utterly still, then abruptly released me. I turned around, glaring at him with hatred in my eyes.

“We need to talk,” Chance said grimly. Bending down, he picked up my purse and my sack of food from the ground.

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