“This address,” Branna interrupted. “I’ve heard of it. Russians run an illegal gambling joint there and a brothel. Strictly high rollers only.”

“In the heart of DC?” Kade asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Some kind of deal with the Russian consulate,” Branna replied with a shrug. “Cops look the other way. The Russians get a taste of the homeland when they want to and occasionally a piece of a US politician.”

“You think George gambled?” I asked Blane. “Or Robert?”

Blane shook his head. “Maybe this was just Lazaroff’s home base. I don’t see Robert being stupid enough to indebt himself in gambling. He’s smarter than that.”

“We need to get in there tomorrow night and find this guy,” Kade said just as the waitress reappeared with our meals.

I dug into the blueberry pancakes I’d ordered, ignoring the fact that Branna had gotten a salad. It seemed everyone was hungry and conversation ceased

“I can find out more about Lazaroff,” Branna said after a few minutes. “I have someone I can call tomorrow. They might meet with me.”

“Might?” Blane asked.

Branna shrugged. “I shot him the last time I saw him, but it was just a flesh wound. I’m sure he’ll have gotten over it by now.”

Blane stopped chewing for a moment, then glanced at Kade, who hadn’t batted an eye at this information.

“You’re just going to let her go see some guy she shot who may or may not want revenge?” Blane asked.

Kade looked up from the Denver omelet he was eating just as Branna spoke.

“Excuse me, did you say ‘let her’?” Branna said, her tone making it clear exactly what she thought of that. “Need I remind you that I handed you your ass just twenty-four hours ago? I can take care of myself.”

“No, Blane’s right,” Kade said, wiping his mouth with a napkin. “We shouldn’t split up, even if it’s just for intel. I’ll go with you.”

“You need to stay with Kathleen,” Blane said. “I’ll go with Branna.”

“Why does he have to stay with her?” Branna asked, sending a glare my way. “If someone’s watching my back, I’d prefer he not be troubled by things like morals and ethics.”

“I’m a lawyer,” Blane retorted. “Morals and ethics aren’t a problem.”

I watched the two of them continue to spar as I finished my pancakes. My brow furrowed, as it seemed they were only aware of each other. Surely, Blane wasn’t . . . attracted to Branna? The thought tumbled through my mind like a stray paper caught in the wind.

We were walking to the car when Branna suddenly asked me, “You’re not going to puke all over the backseat, are you?”

“No,” I said shortly. “But if I do, I’ll be sure to aim it your direction.”

“Don’t even breathe on me,” she scoffed. “I certainly don’t want what you have.”

I stopped at the car, turning to look at her incredulously. I grabbed Kade’s sleeve. “You didn’t tell her?” I was hurt. What the hell had he told her last night in my kitchen if not that I was carrying his baby?

Kade frowned, huffing out a breath as he studied me.

“Didn’t tell me what?” Branna asked.

My eyes were locked with Kade’s. “Are you just going to leave and pretend this never happened?” My words were quiet, but I couldn’t keep the pain and accusation out of them.

I could feel myself on the verge of breaking down, so I quickly turned away, jerking open the car door and climbing inside. I could still hear Branna.

“What is it?” she asked again. “Kade, tell me what’s going on. What’s wrong with—”

“Kathleen’s pregnant,” he interrupted her.

Branna was silent for a moment. “I take it congratulations are in order,” she said stiffly.

I couldn’t hear if Kade said anything, because the next thing I knew, she was climbing in beside me. Blane had already taken the front seat and Kade got behind the wheel without a word.

To say that the drive to the motel was awkward would be an understatement. Kade tried to meet my eyes in the rearview mirror numerous times, but I avoided looking at it.

I was out of the car as soon as possible when we were back at the motel, and I stood outside the door to our room, waiting stiffly for Kade to unlock it.

Movement caught my eye and I saw Blane looking at me before he opened the door and let Branna in ahead of him. Branna looked upset, and well she should have been. Kade and she were supposed to be close, yet not only had he never told her about Blane, he hadn’t even told her I was having his child.

I’d be pretty upset, too, if I was her. I wondered if Blane would comfort her, and then I wondered how I felt about that.

Kade unlocked our door and I hurried inside, not looking at him. I brushed my teeth in the bathroom, then took off my jeans and headed for one of the beds, all without speaking to him.

“Kathleen . . .” he began.

I ignored him, jerking the bedcovers down, then slipping off my bra and putting it in my suitcase. The T-shirt I wore was fine to sleep in.

“Kathleen,” he tried again, taking hold of my arm. “Could you stop and just listen to me?”

“What should I listen to, Kade?” I snapped. “The sound of you not telling Branna about us?” I jerked my arm away just as Kade released me and I stumbled backward, falling flat on my ass on the floor.

“Dammit!” Tears threatened, but I blinked them back, pulling my feet under me to stand. That’s when I felt it.

Kade shoved his hand through his hair in frustration, then leaned down to help me up.

“Wait,” I said urgently. My hands dropped to my bump as another cramp knifed through my abdomen. “Oh God,” I gasped, the blood leaving my face in a rush.

“What’s wrong?” Kade dropped into a crouch next to me.

“I don’t know,” I breathed. “It hurts—” Another cramp cut me off as I sucked in a breath.

In a flash, Kade had me in his arms and was hurrying out the door.

“What are you doing?” I asked, cringing. I didn’t even have pants on. But Kade was kicking on the door to Blane’s room.

“Something’s wrong with Kathleen,” he blurted when Blane opened the door. “I’m taking her to the hospital.”

“You’re what?” I squeaked. “I’m fine!”

“You’re not fine,” Kade said to me. “Get the car door for me,” he ordered Blane, who rushed to open it.

“Kade, will you just stop for a second?” Another cramp seized me and Kade saw my hands go to my abdomen.

“Nope,” he said, slamming the door and hurrying to slide behind the wheel. Seconds later, he was burning rubber as we sped out of the lot.

I tried to reason with him all the way to the hospital, but it was like talking to a brick wall. No matter how many times I tried to tell him that cramping sometimes was normal and that we should just go back to the motel, he ignored me.

I wanted to sink under the seat when Kade pulled to a shuddering stop at the ER entrance, grabbing his keys and rushing around the car to pick me up and carry me inside.

“You can’t just leave your car there!” I protested.

“Fuck the car,” he growled.

“You’re making a scene,” I hissed, my face burning as people turned to look at us.

“I don’t give a shit.”

There was no stopping him from bullying the admittance people, and soon I was ensconced in a bed in the ER, clad in a gown and awaiting a doctor.

“I can’t believe you did this,” I muttered. “I’m fine. The cramping has stopped. It was probably nothing.”

“Maybe it was,” he said. “But won’t you feel better to find out for sure?”

He was right, so I didn’t say anything.

The doctor and a nurse came in shortly after that and asked me a bunch of questions. No, I hadn’t had this happen before. No, I wasn’t spotting. No, I wasn’t cramping right then.

“Let’s take a look,” the doctor said with a kind smile while he snapped on a pair of latex gloves. He glanced at Kade. “Does Dad want to stay for this or wait outside?”

The look on Kade’s face was unreadable. “I’m staying,” he said, coming to stand by me. He took my hand.