“Call 911!” Blane barked.

Jackie didn’t move.

“Go!” Blane said even more loudly.

Jackie spun around and ran to her desk, the door swinging closed behind her.

Blane stood, taking me with him, and I turned . . . then stared in openmouthed shock at what remained of Keaston. His eyes were still open, but the back of his head was splattered against the wall in a gory mixture of blood, tissue, and brain matter.

“I don’t . . . what . . . Oh my God.” My knees gave out and I would have fallen if Blane hadn’t had hold of me. I had no idea what had happened. Blane couldn’t have killed Keaston. He’d told me flat out that he wouldn’t kill him, his only blood relative other than Kade.

“You were right, Kat. It was either him, or you,” Blane said, turning my chin so I again faced him. “And I chose you.”

I stared at him in stunned disbelief, knowing I should feel guilty for being part of what had brought Blane and Keaston to this point, but I couldn’t. Keaston had been a horrible, evil man who’d hurt us all. Blane had made a decision that spoke unequivocally about what I meant to him.

“I’m so sorry,” I whispered. “I never meant—”

“Shhh, stop,” Blane said. “This is not your fault. None of it was. I swear to you.”

I couldn’t look away from Blane, his face blurring slightly in my vision, and I saw in his eyes the things he could no longer say aloud. He tenderly brushed my wet cheeks before again tucking me tightly against him.

“Security will be here in seconds,” he said, speaking over my head to Kade. “Let me do the talking.”

The next few hours were a blur. Police came and men with military uniforms, with rifles and guns and so many questions. I saw the paramedics remove the senator’s body and then watched as the police took photos and we were ushered out of the office. I was separated from Kade and Blane and asked question after question about what had happened, but I’d heard Blane’s voice above the hubbub and repeated his story.

The senator had quarreled with Blane over Blane’s decision to leave the governor’s race. He’d become agitated and had pulled a gun. Blane had tried to talk to him, take the gun away, but the senator had committed suicide before we’d even had a chance to call for help.

I was a friend of Blane’s, his ex-fiancée, and had come along to support him. Kade was a friend as well. Yes, Blane had mentioned his concern to me about his uncle’s mental state, given his age, but I hadn’t realized it was so bad and neither had Blane. No, there was no warning that the senator would become violent. No, there was nothing we could’ve done to stop him.

Over and over and over, I was asked the same questions a dozen different ways, but I stuck to the story and didn’t deviate. Eventually, I was able to plead shock and exhaustion and the paramedics intervened. I wasn’t faking. My hands shook and I felt too close to passing out, my emotions swinging crazily between despair for what had just happened, to relief that the senator was finally out of our lives, to guilt for feeling relieved.

Evening was closing in by the time we were allowed to leave the Capitol and I leaned heavily on Kade as the three of us walked out a back entrance, away from the press swarming the front. When we were far enough away from the building to not garner any attention, we paused underneath a tree and Kade called Branna to come pick us up.

Blane heaved a sigh. He looked exhausted but resolute, and I worried that the coming days would take a toll on him. He’d have to speak to Vivian, arrange the funeral, and handle a thousand other things as his uncle’s relative and heir.

I reached out and grasped his hand. First glancing at me in surprise, he hesitated, then tugged me close for a hug. I inhaled the scent of him, my arms wrapped tight around his waist. After several long moments, he released me and I stepped back. Kade took my hand.

“Well, I can’t say I’m not glad he’s gone,” Kade said. “But that leaves us with another problem.”

“What’s that?” Blane asked.

Kade sighed. “He told me he had a ‘Kade Dennon insurance policy.’ If something happened to him, there’s a contract on Kathleen.”

Nice. I inched closer to Kade.

Blane seemed to take that information in stride, giving a curt nod and glancing away. His eyes squinted against the rays of the sunset.

“I’ll dig through his stuff, see what I can find,” Blane said. “If it was Lazaroff, we might already be covered. If it was someone else he hired, I’ll find out.” He looked at Kade. “Go. Take her. Keep her safe.”

Kade gave a curt nod, his expression grim.

And it suddenly struck me that . . . this was it. Kade and I were leaving, who knew for how long? For however long it took Blane to clear whatever machinations had been set in motion by Keaston’s death, I supposed. It might be a very long time indeed until I saw Blane again. And I started to cry.

“So this is goodbye?” I managed to ask through my tears.

Blane muttered a curse and reached for me. Kade let me go and I was again in Blane’s arms.

“Just for now,” he said, cradling me to his chest. His chin rested on top of my head. “It’s for the best. You know that.” And I knew he didn’t just mean because of any danger I might be in, but also for everything else between us.

I nodded, my throat too full for me to speak. I knew he was right, but it was so hard to leave him.

“Everything will be okay,” Blane said, and his voice was thick. “You and Kade will be safe. I promise. The baby, too.” His hand gently stroked my hair.

“What about you?” I asked, tears pouring down my cheeks.

Blane pulled back slightly and I looked up at him. “I’ll be fine,” he said, smiling softly. Tears shone brightly in his eyes. “I have many regrets, but loving you isn’t one of them.” He leaned down, kissing me lightly on the lips. “You showed me what love can truly be, Kat,” he whispered. “I’ll always thank you for that.”

Then he kissed me again, a long, tender kiss that was achingly bittersweet in that I knew it was goodbye.

When he released me, he handed me carefully over to Kade as though I were made of the finest porcelain.

“You’re the only one I trust to keep her safe,” Blane said. “Take care of her. Take care of you.” He swallowed heavily. “I love you both.”

Kade’s eyes were shining, their blue depths bright. His expression was stark as he looked at Blane. “Ditto, brother,” he said, his voice a low rasp. “Don’t worry. I’ll protect her.”

Blane nodded, blinking rapidly as he glanced away from us. “Then go on,” he said roughly. “Get out of here. Branna can take me where I need to go.” He seemed close to losing his composure, and I think Kade sensed it as well, because he said nothing more, just tightened his grip on my hand and led me away.

My last glimpse of Blane was his back as he stood on the grass, the Capitol building framed to his left and his body silhouetted against the setting sun.

KADE & KATHLEEN

CHAPTER SIXTEEN

Kade collected our luggage from the hotel and put it in the trunk of his Mercedes, then he took me to a quiet restaurant on the outskirts of DC and fed me. Not that I was in the mood to eat, but my body was complaining very loudly of an empty stomach, leaving me little choice in the matter.

Still, I picked at my food, pushing it around my plate as I worried about Blane. Kade was outside making a phone call and I finally gave up, setting aside my fork with a sigh.

The image of Keaston’s blood on the wall, the back of his head blown away, kept replaying in my mind. I struggled with how I should have felt versus how I really felt. I’d never thought of myself as the kind of person who would be . . . glad about someone’s death. And yet the only thing I was sorry about was the effect killing his own uncle had had on Blane. What did that say about me as a person? I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.