There were throngs of people everywhere, but Blane seemed to know where he was going. Before long we stood in front of a large wooden door with a bronze placard, emblazoned with Senator Robert W. Keaston, on the wall next to it. Underneath his name was MASSACHUSETTS. Blane rapped twice on the door, then walked in.

An older woman sat behind a large desk made from cherry wood. Two flags stood in a corner of the room, one an American flag, the other the state flag of Massachusetts, I assumed. The woman glanced up.

“Mr. Kirk,” she said with a smile. “It’s been a while since you’ve been up to see the senator.”

“Hi, Jackie. Been a while since I’ve been to Washington,” Blane replied, his easy smile making the dimple appear in his cheek. “Is he in?”

“He’s in a meeting at the moment,” Jackie said, “but you’re welcome to wait in his office.”

“Thank you,” Blane replied. He held open another door, allowing me and Kade to step inside the senator’s office. Jackie eyed me curiously but didn’t ask any questions. Blane softly closed the door behind him.

The office wasn’t terribly large, but then again, I thought space was probably at a premium in this building. There was a gray marble fireplace situated between two windows. Another cherry wood desk took up a good amount of space along one wall and a thick oriental-style rug covered the floor. A large portrait painting of John Adams hung behind the desk.

Two leather armchairs flanked an antique table along the wall opposite the desk and that’s where Kade sat. He slid his sunglasses into the inside pocket of his suit coat and crossed an ankle over the other knee. Taking a small device from another pocket, he flicked a tiny switch.

“That should take care of any listening devices within a twenty-foot radius,” he said, sliding it back into his pocket.

Blane nodded. He seemed restless, moving around the room, stopping to gaze out the window. My heart hurt for him. The look on his face was stark, grim. I went up to him, resting my hand on his arm. He glanced down at me and it seemed I didn’t have to say anything. He read my face, then lifted a hand to cup my cheek, his thumb brushing gently across my skin. Sliding his hand underneath my hair to the back of my neck, he drew me closer, brushing a kiss to my forehead.

“Don’t worry,” he said softly.

The door opened and the man I hated walked in.

Senator Keaston looked like any other powerful politician, and his expression said that while he wasn’t surprised to see us, he wasn’t happy about it, either.

“Did I miss the memo on a family meeting?” The senator’s words were chiding, but his gaze was calculating as he took in Kade, me, and Blane. He settled into the chair behind the desk.

“I prefer not to claim you,” Kade said, his lips twisting into a chilly smirk.

The senator glared at him. “Likewise, boy,” he said, his voice rife with contempt. He turned and gazed my way. “And I see you’ve brought the trash in with you.”

Blane stiffened and Kade’s eyes narrowed dangerously. I tightened my grip on Blane’s arm, but he didn’t make a move toward Keaston. Instead, he turned to me, solicitously taking my hand and drawing me across the room to sit in the chair next to Kade. My knees were shaking, so sitting down seemed like a great idea. After I sank into the seat, Blane’s hand brushed my hair back before he turned again to face Keaston.

“I think it’s time you and I had a talk, Uncle,” Blane said, approaching the desk. He leaned one shoulder against the fireplace and crossed his arms over his chest. “You’ve lied to me, manipulated me, tried to hurt the people I love. Why?”

“It sounds like you’ve been listening a bit too much to Kade,” Keaston replied, raising an eyebrow.

“Matt Summers confessed,” Blane said. “He said you were behind Kathleen being taken. You know, by the sex traffickers who would have sold her to the highest bidder for a life of misery, for however long she lasted?” His voice was hard. “And before you start saying he was lying, Matt had a gun to his head, so I think he was pretty intent on telling me the truth.”

Now I knew that Blane hadn’t been the one to pull the trigger on Matt and that Matt had actually confessed to me and Lucy, though I’d been too drugged to remember it. But I wasn’t about to contradict Blane’s story.

Unbelievably, Keaston smiled. “Well, it all worked out, didn’t it? She’s sitting right there, healthy as can be. Now, when can I expect the wedding bells?”

“Kathleen and I aren’t getting married, Robert,” Blane said. “You helped see to that. And I’m through with politics. The games you’ve been playing with my life have . . . Well, let’s just say it’s all left a bad taste in my mouth.

“You’ve had your fingers in some pretty nasty pies, Robert,” Blane continued. “All the way back to the TecSol case, only you weren’t the one rigging the election, but the one helping to sell access to China—and using a teenager and her captive parents to do it.”

My eyes widened. I’d had no idea Keaston had had anything to do with imprisoning CJ’s parents or her subsequent blackmailing.

“You worked with Matt Summers to try and intimidate me into losing the Waters case, threatening Kathleen, hurting her. You sent someone to try and kill Kade, my brother, then lied to me about my fiancée!” Blane’s voice had risen, fury filling each syllable, until he stood in a towering rage that made me shrink back in my chair.

None of this seemed to have the least effect on Keaston. “Are you through having a temper tantrum?” he barked. “You’re a soldier. You know that sometimes you have to do things you don’t want to do in order to achieve an end result. The end justifies the means, and I am not going to explain myself to you.”

Blane shoved a hand through his hair, turning away to press both hands on the mantel, leaning on the fireplace as though for the support and strength to be calm.

“How far back does it go, Robert?” he asked, not looking at him. “Did my dad decide Kade couldn’t come live with us, or did you decide for him?”

“Your brother’s been a liability since the day he was born,” Keaston scoffed. “I never should have helped you find him when William died. That was a mistake. He should’ve disappeared when his mother died.”

I jumped when Blane suddenly swept an arm across the top of the fireplace, sending everything on it—picture frames, figurines, candlesticks—smashing into the wall and onto the floor in a cacophony of breaking glass. I was reminded of when I’d told him I was pregnant and he had destroyed the den. Blane’s rage was terrifying. I’d never seen him so angry before. I started shaking and Kade took my hand, folding it reassuringly into his.

That was the moment I saw a visible reaction from Keaston. His eyes widened slightly and his throat moved as he swallowed, but in seconds he’d regained his composure.

Blane faced him. “Do you have any idea the hell Kade would have been spared if he’d been allowed to come live with us?” he rasped, the words edged in bitterness and guilt.

“Kade was not my concern,” Keaston said. “You were. Everything I’ve done, I’ve done to help pave the path for you, your career.”

“Bullshit,” Blane spat. “Everything you’ve done has been for you, not me.”

Keaston rubbed a hand across his forehead and sighed. “We could argue semantics all day, Blane, but frankly I don’t have the time. You’re here, Kade’s here. Why? What do you want? Or are we done?”

“We’re not done,” Kade replied, “but you are.”

“Haven’t we already had this conversation about threats, Kade?” Keaston retorted. “I was very clear, was I not?”

“You were very clear that, should I not make Kathleen go back to Blane, you would kill her, yes,” Kade said matter-of-factly.

I gulped. To hear it spelled out so plainly, my life or death dependent entirely on my relationship with Blane, was sobering. I’d known Keaston was crazy—he had to be to have done some of the things he had—but the reality of it was still sad and unnerving.