Blane, however, would make the perfect dad. He already had a house and a steady career that didn’t include dead bodies left in his wake. All he was missing was the pregnant girl—a girl he already loved, had wanted to marry, and no doubt still wanted to marry. All of Blane’s dreams could have come true—if not for Kade.
Guilt hit Kade hard, sucking the breath from him.
How could he have done this to Blane? To his brother? To the only person who’d given a shit about him when he was nothing but a skinny delinquent, intent on ruining his own life and taking as many people down with him as he could.
He should’ve stayed away, far away from Kathleen. Kade had known instantly that she was his Kryptonite, yet he’d been drawn to her like the proverbial moth to a flame. Now Blane—the one who should be with her, the one who deserved her—had lost her.
And yet, what was he to do? Kade loved her. The rainbows-and-unicorns, worship-the-ground-she-walks-on, listen-to-bad-Taylor-Swift-songs kind of love. He’d do anything for her, but he was too selfish to give her up, not even for his brother.
Kade went to a closet in the far corner, pressing on a disguised latch to open the hidden panel in the back. Pressing his thumb to the scanner, he waited while it verified his identity, then opened. He pulled out a handgun and two clips, sliding one into the gun and the other into the pocket of his jeans before he closed the panel again.
Going into his office, Kade transferred money from his accounts in Grand Cayman to a new account in Kathleen’s name. He then took the precaution of wiping the hard drive, starting a program that would reformat it and write data to all the sectors.
Kade didn’t know what he’d be walking into tonight, but there was always the possibility that he wouldn’t walk out.
In his bedroom, he pulled on a black T-shirt, throwing a black button-down shirt on over it that he left untucked to conceal the gun lodged in the waistband at his back. The wounds healing in his chest twinged when he moved a certain way, but Kade ignored the pain. There was nothing he could do about it, and besides, duty called.
Was he insane? Insane for wanting what seemed just within his grasp? Kathleen, a family, a life. A year ago, his sole focus had been surviving the next job, not that he’d cared much one way or the other. When your time was up, it was up—and all the wishing and hoping in the world couldn’t change that.
But now, for the first time, he felt fear. He was afraid. Not just because he wanted to live—he did—but because he had someone to live for. He had to be there, had to protect her, because there was no one to do it if he wasn’t around.
Kade wasn’t a fool. He’d seen how Kathleen had rushed to leave the hospital every morning before Blane got there. He’d known that Blane had shut down on her, the way he always did when he wanted to stop feeling. Kade turned to anger when he wanted to escape; Blane turned to ice.
Grabbing his keys, Kade headed out the door. Twenty minutes later, he’d parked a couple of blocks away from where he was to meet the guy and started walking. His phone buzzed and he looked down at the screen.
Kathleen.
Kade hesitated, then hit the button to send the call to voice mail. He couldn’t talk to her now. She’d want to know where he was and why. He’d have to lie, because if he told her the truth, she’d worry.
The weight of the gun at his back reassured Kade, as did the one strapped to his ankle. A knife was hidden under his other pants leg, though he hoped it didn’t come to that. After two weeks in the hospital, his muscles felt stiff from disuse.
Kade melted from shadow to shadow, silently making his way to the bridge. Homeless people often camped around this area, but there didn’t seem to be anyone around tonight. Sliding into the deep shadows under the bridge, Kade put his back to the concrete and waited.
He didn’t have to wait long. A few minutes later, a dark sedan pulled up, its headlights flashing over Kade before they were extinguished. He watched as a man got out and began walking toward him. Kade recognized him as George Bradshaw, erstwhile campaign manager for Senator Keaston, now his chief of staff.
“Dennon,” George said in acknowledgment when he was about ten feet away. He wore a suit and was maybe in his mid-thirties.
“George,” Kade replied with mock cordiality.
“I believe we have a mutual friend,” George said.
“I don’t have any friends.”
George laughed softly. “I suppose you’re right. Friends of yours have a nasty habit of turning up dead, isn’t that right?”
“So do people who piss me off and waste my time,” Kade replied with a cold smile that disappeared immediately. “What do you want?”
“A man who likes to get down to business. I can appreciate that.” George casually pushed his hands into his pockets as he walked closer to Kade, who stiffened, but the man didn’t pull a weapon. “Your uncle sent me with a message.”
Kade’s expression didn’t change. “I don’t have an uncle.”
“Of course you do,” George said with a calculating look. “Do you think I wouldn’t know every detail of Senator Keaston’s life? And Blane Kirk’s? You remember him, don’t you? He is your brother, after all.”
“You’ve been misinformed.”
George shrugged. “I don’t give a shit if you want to keep playing this game, because here’s what you’re going to do.” He stepped closer to Kade. “You’re going to ditch the girl and get your ass out of town.”
“Fuck you.”
“Kirk needs to get his shit together. He’s not backing out of the race. And if this chick is what’ll put his fucking head back on straight, then that’s what he gets.”
“You can tell Keaston to go fuck himself,” Kade snarled. “No one pulls my strings, and no one is going to pull Blane’s, either.”
The two men stared at each other in a charged silence.
“Blane Kirk owes some very important people,” George said. “This isn’t the kind of game where you can just fold your cards and go home. You’ve fucked things up already. So hear this, Dennon.”
George got in Kade’s face, his finger poking hard at Kade’s chest. “If you think you can just say ‘Fuck you’ and not do as we say? Then I swear to God, we’ll kill them both.”
“You’re full of shit,” Kade scoffed. “Keaston’s not going to kill Blane.”
“Blane is useless to us if he fucks over his career, and if he can’t be controlled, he’s a liability. Frankly, he’d be more use to us dead at this point.”
Rage flashed through Kade, and he reacted without thought. In the sliver of time from one second to the next, he had George’s hand in his and bent his fingers back. George yelled as three of his fingers snapped and Kade forced him to his knees.
When George looked up from where he’d landed on the ground, he was staring at the barrel of a gun pointed at the center of his forehead.
“What the fuck, Dennon?” George cried. “Do you have any fucking clue what you just did? I work for the senator, you dumb fuck!”
“You pissed me off,” Kade gritted out. “Threatening the only two people on the fucking planet that I give a shit about. That was a bad idea. You and my uncle may think you can put me on a leash”—he leaned down to hiss in George’s face—“but you can’t.”
For the first time, fear seemed to strike George. “You can’t kill me,” he babbled. “Keaston sent me. I’m just the messenger.”
“And I’m sending a message.”
Kade’s gun barked once. George’s body went limp and dropped to the ground, his eyes staring sightlessly upward.