To his surprise, and shameful relief, Blane suddenly reappeared after only a few minutes. He went next door and spoke to the neighbor—Kade couldn’t remember her name—then got in his car and drove away.

Kade wanted to both yell at Blane for leaving Kathleen alone, and thank him, for the same reason.

He needed to go. If he stuck around there like some love-smitten teenager hiding among the trees, the temptation to go see Kathleen would eventually become more than he could withstand. And she didn’t need that. Kade needed to disappear from her life so she could get on with living it.

With Blane.

Kade stepped farther into the trees, preparing to go, then stopped when Kathleen’s door opened again and she came flying out. His breath caught as pain pierced him, his eyes drinking in what he could see of her in the faint glow cast from the parking lot lights.

Hurrying down the steps, she got inside her car. Seconds later, she was pulling out of the lot.

Where was she going? If Kade had to guess, he assumed she was heading to Blane’s. Maybe she’d turned him down and now realized that was a mistake. They were perfect for each other. The two of them together looked like each one had been made to complement the other. Kathleen was as pretty, innocent, and as girl-next-door as it was possible to be. Team that with Blane’s all-American heartthrob good looks, and they made a formidable pair.

The cameras would love them.

Kade was standing in front of Kathleen’s door without having consciously decided to move. Automatically picking the lock, he stepped inside.

What the hell am I doing? he thought. Why can’t I just leave? Why torture myself?

But it seemed logic wasn’t ruling his actions. Not tonight.

Kade drifted back to her bedroom. The sight of the half-packed suitcase sitting on the bed made his throat close up.

He was doing the right thing. He was. Maybe she didn’t understand or wouldn’t agree, but eventually she’d be glad he was gone. Both she and Blane would be.

A discarded T-shirt lay on the floor and Kade scooped it up, recognizing it as one of Kathleen’s favorite sleep shirts. Though she had lingerie and pajamas, he’d most often found her sleeping in T-shirts.

A memory came to him, of when he’d once come to Kathleen’s apartment looking for Blane. The Santinis had hired Kade to kill her. He had sat in a chair in a corner of her bedroom, watching her sleep as he’d contemplated what to do. If Kade hadn’t found the photos they’d used to blackmail Blane—if he hadn’t realized Blane had probably told them to go fuck themselves—he would’ve killed Kathleen without a second thought.

But Blane had disappeared, leaving Kade suspecting the Santinis of taking matters into their own hands.

She’d been wearing a little T-shirt then, the fabric riding up to her waist as she slept, teasing Kade with a view of the tiny pair of satin panties she wore. The virginal white fabric had nearly screamed “off limits” but that hadn’t stopped him from wanting her. He’d briefly wondered what she’d do if she woke with his mouth on the paradise between her thighs . . .

Luckily, Kathleen had woken before Kade had done something stupid, her eyes frightened when she saw him, then filling with terror when she realized he was there to kill her.

In the end, he hadn’t been able to do either of the two actions he’d considered—he couldn’t kill her and he couldn’t fuck her. Maybe it had been the innocence etched into every word she said, every move she made. Or perhaps it was the purity of her soul that shone in her clear blue eyes.

Kathleen was good, and even after all the darkness and evil that surrounded him and lived inside him, Kade had recognized it—and been unable to destroy something so precious and rare.

Of course, it hadn’t hurt that she looked like a goddamn fairy-tale princess, her long hair lying in tousled waves over her shoulders and down her back. The shade of gold had a rose hue, as though the locks had been kissed by the sunrise. Her cheeks were ivory porcelain, a flush blooming in them when Kade had touched her, his hands slipping under her T-shirt because he hadn’t been able to go a moment longer not knowing how the curve of her hip felt in his hand, or the exact dip of her waist.

Her eyes, still heavy with sleep, had held his gaze captive. The scent of her perfume drifted between them, reminding Kade of a time long ago—a time when he’d thought fate would be kind, that he’d paid enough in blood and tears for a lifetime.

He’d been wrong.

Holding the T-shirt to his face, Kade inhaled deeply. The fabric was drenched in Kathleen’s scent. Not her perfume, but the scent of her skin and hair.

A wave of pure agony washed over him and Kade stumbled to the bed, sitting down heavily. Kathleen had only fitfully made the bed, her pillow still dented from the impression of her head, and he found himself resting his fingers on the hollow.

How quickly would she forget about him? Would she tell his baby about him, or would Blane’s name only be spoken as the father?

Kade abruptly stood. Time to go.

Everything was blurred as he walked through the kitchen, and it wasn’t until he was sitting inside his car that he realized he still clutched Kathleen’s T-shirt in his hand.

CHAPTER EIGHT

It had been a fourteen-hour drive from Indy to Boston. Kade would have driven it without stopping, but his body wouldn’t cooperate. He’d pulled off somewhere near Allentown, finding a dive of a motel and paying cash for a room.

After showering, he’d lain on the bed in his jeans, unable to sleep. He picked up his cell, a new burner phone he’d bought. His old phone lay at the bottom of the White River outside Indy, where he’d stopped to toss it after leaving Kathleen’s apartment.

His fingers traced the numbers for Kathleen’s cell, but he didn’t dial. Kade had made it impossible for either Blane or Kathleen to reach him, which was best for them all. A clean break.

The T-shirt he’d taken from Kathleen’s apartment lay on the bed beside him. Absently, Kade picked it up. The fabric was worn, soft, and still smelled of her. He wondered if she was with Blane, waking up in his arms this morning.

He fell asleep with her image behind his closed eyes. His dreams were filled with Kathleen in his bed, her eyes warm and soft as he kissed her, the feel of her nails digging into his back as he pushed deep inside her, her gasps and sighs echoing in his ears.

Waking to the reality he now faced from the peace and contentment of his dreams was like dying from a thousand cuts.

Kade arrived in Boston the next night. He drove straight to his office, pulling into the garage and parking. The garage was actually part of the space, his “office” being an old self-storage building. It was made of thick red brick, with a chain-link fence surrounding it to discourage any curiosity. If someone did get too close, the grounds were wired with numerous ways to scare them off.

Climbing a wrought-iron spiral staircase, Kade stepped into a loft that he’d converted to a living space. Unlike his apartment in Indy, it wasn’t luxurious or even that comfortable. But it was functional, and that was all he really required.

The stark white, windowless walls were bare, and Kade pulled off his shirt, tossing it onto the bed as he headed to the kitchen area. Pulling open the fridge, he grabbed a bottle of water, twisted off the cap, and drank half the bottle in one long gulp. A moment later, he was heading back down the stairs to where he’d set up his computers.

Various green and blue lights glowed in the dark as Kade flipped on the overhead lights. A server rack was on his right, the computers it contained humming. The noise was familiar and comforting to Kade. At least he had control over this part of his life, considering the rest had gone to complete and utter shit.