“I’ve missed you and Mona, too,” I said. I didn’t know what to say about the Blane part.
“He’s in the library,” Gerard told Kade with a sigh.
“Thanks, Gerard,” Kade said.
As we drew closer to the door, my anxiety ratcheted up. If nothing else, I was sure Blane was upset about Kandi’s death. I had sincere doubts he wanted another ex-girlfriend to share in his misery.
Kade seemed to sense my encroaching panic, taking my hand firmly in his. He rapped once on the door, then pushed it open.
The room was relatively dark. A single lamp gave off a weak glow that didn’t quite reach the far corners of the room. Blane was sitting in one of the matching leather chairs by the fireplace.
I hid slightly behind Kade, embarrassed to be intruding. It felt like Blane and I were strangers now. I shouldn’t be there.
Blane glanced up as Kade stepped inside the room. He stiffened and immediately got to his feet.
“I didn’t realize you were back,” Blane said as Kade walked closer. I remained lingering in the shadows of the doorway.
“News travels fast.” Kade stopped in front of Blane. “How are you doing?”
Blane took a drink of the amber liquid from the glass he held before answering. “Better than Kandi.”
“What happened?”
“They found her, early this morning. Strangled.”
I sucked in a breath at the image he painted, the pain in Blane’s voice evident. I’d hated Kandi, but no one deserved that.
“Jesus,” Kade breathed, turning to pace a few steps away. He shoved a hand through his hair. Then he seemed to recollect something and glanced around. Spotting me in the doorway, he crooked his finger, beckoning me. “I thought you might need somebody to talk to,” he said to Blane, watching me reluctantly walk forward.
Blane turned around as I stepped into the light, the hand holding his glass freezing in place halfway to his mouth.
I managed to make it all the way over to him, each step feeling as though I was wading through quicksand. The pull of Blane like a black hole, drawing me in. After what felt like an eternity, I stopped directly in front of him.
“Blane,” I said, “I’m really, really sorry about Kandi. I know she meant a lot to you.” Once the words were out of my mouth, I was glad I’d said them. Regardless of our tumultuous history, I wasn’t the kind of person to turn my back when someone I loved was in need. If Blane needed me, I’d be there for him.
The expression on Blane’s face was one of utter surprise. Perhaps he didn’t expect that I’d meant it, or that I even wanted to be there. But where I came from, you put aside the hurts and history when tragedy struck.
Without even looking at him, Blane handed his glass to Kade, who took it without question, then Blane was folding me into his arms.
He pulled me so close and so tight, I felt my trepidation ease away like sloughing off an old, heavy coat.
I heard the door behind me close softly, and knew that Kade had left us alone.
CHAPTER EIGHT
I didn’t know what else to do or say. What do you say in times like this? I remembered when my dad and mom had died. Multitudes of people had shaken my hand, told me how sorry they were, and I’d tried to be strong—first for my mom, then for myself. I had seen the pity in their eyes, but I’d made it through the funerals, waiting until I was alone to fall apart.
Chance had been with me then and I was reminded of that now. He was the only family I had left. It had felt so good to have someone to lean on, someone who I knew wouldn’t pity me, but just loved me and would let me be vulnerable to my sorrow. Blane needed that kind of someone right now, and maybe he could allow himself to do the same with me.
We stood like that for a long time, in silence, wrapped in each other’s arms. I closed my eyes and breathed in Blane’s scent. I didn’t allow myself to think of anything. I just savored this moment and being in his arms, a place I’d thought I’d never be again. Only when his grip finally loosened did I let go, too. My mom had always said to never be the first one to stop hugging.
Blane took my hand and tucked my arm under his, drawing me over to the sofa. We sat, him so close his thigh pressed against mine. He cradled my hand in his, intently studying my palm. But I had the feeling he was really gazing inward, which was confirmed when he began talking.
“They called me this morning,” he said. “I have a few friends on the force. One of them was there and knew of our… relationship.”
I pressed my lips firmly together to keep from asking if that was a past or present-tense form of “relationship.” That was none of my business. Not anymore.
“When I got there, her body was still where they’d found it—” His voice cracked and he broke off. He cradled my hand now in both of his, hunching over to rest his elbows on his knees. After a moment, he seemed to regain control. “She wasn’t always the way you knew her,” Blane said. “She used to be sweet. Selfish and spoiled, yes, but not bitter. That came later. And I keep thinking that it’s my fault. She was unhappy because I let her down.”
His words tore at me. The blame game? Yes, I was familiar with that one. “Blane, no,” I said. “You weren’t responsible for Kandi’s happiness. She was. She made her own decisions. And I know she thought you and her were supposed to be together, but it’s not your fault that it didn’t work out that way.” I gave a small shrug. “People grow. People change. And what may have made sense when you were fifteen isn’t the same when you’re older and life has changed both of you.”
Blane looked at me, his eyes wet and filled with pain and grief. My own eyes stung in sympathy.
“I haven’t told you the worst part,” he said, his voice thick. “When they called, told me my ex had been found murdered—at first I thought it was you.” He swallowed, then seemed to have to force the next words out. “And when they told me it was Kandi, I was… relieved.”
It seemed like he couldn’t look me in the eye any longer and bowed his head again, bringing my hand to his forehead as though in prayer. I felt the wet streaks on his face against my skin.
My vision blurred with tears at Blane’s confession, a confession of something he deemed reprehensible but was really just… human. But rarely did Blane get to be just human. Too many people counted on him and too much was expected of him by others as well as himself. Now he was punishing himself for feeling an emotion—relief—something he had no control over.
“Blane, please,” I said, “don’t do this to yourself. You can’t control what you feel. It doesn’t mean you loved Kandi any less. Please don’t punish yourself.” I wrapped my free arm around him the best I could, leaning into him as though I could convince him by my sheer physical presence.
He looked up at me, his eyes red and swollen, and my heart nearly broke. I swiped gently at his wet cheeks and leaned forward, pressing my lips to his forehead and pulling his head to rest on my shoulder. He wrapped his arms around my waist and leaned on me. It was the first time that Blane had ever shown that he needed me in this way or that he was anything less than in complete control.
After a few minutes, Blane lifted his head. I gave him a small smile. His hair was in disarray and I couldn’t resist the temptation to push my fingers lightly through it, rearranging the blond locks into their usual place as if I could rearrange his emotions.
Blane lifted a hand to my cheek and I stilled. He was so close and now the air between us changed, making me acutely aware of him. The rustle of his clothes when he moved, the way his eyes stared intently into mine, the saline making their usually gray depths a clear, brilliant green.
His head lowered and I knew what was coming, but I didn’t move away. I couldn’t. And in another moment, he was kissing me, his lips moving gently over mine in the lightest of caresses.