Turn On A Dime - Kade's Turn (Kathleen Turner Series Book 7) Read online

  Well, that was more than Kade’d had before. He gave the bartender a chilly smile. “Thank you for your cooperation.”

  And so it went. From bars to strip joints to dealers on the street, Kade flashed Bowers’ photo all around the underside of Indy, but he got no more hits after that first one until early that evening.

  He was sitting on a barstool in a place that looked like the health department hadn’t visited in at least a decade, sipping another beer from the bottle. At least with a bottle, he could be moderately certain the contents were what they were purported to be.

  Kade had forgotten, or maybe just hadn’t wanted to remember, the feeling of despair and hopelessness that hung in the air of these kinds of places like a cloud of cigarette smoke. It covered him like an invisible film, filling his lungs as he breathed it in, sat like a thousand pound weight on his back.

  This was where he belonged, where his future lay. It didn’t matter if Kathleen and Blane were over. How could he possibly hope for someone to overlook his past, especially someone as pure and innocent as Kathleen? If she knew some of the things he’d done, she’d be horrified. Revolted. She’d never look at him the same way again.

  That’s what he couldn’t get out of his head. The kiss last night, the way she’d gazed up at him with those blue eyes so full of trust. How she’d cuddled in his arms—the arms of a killer—and asked him about his past.

  She’d cried for him.

  There were many things a woman like that would cry about, and Kade was the least deserving of her tears. He’d made his choices and he didn’t flinch from the consequences. If it hadn’t been for him quitting the FBI and sticking next to Blane like his shadow for the next six months, who knows what would have happened?

  “So you’re just going to hang out here?” Blane asked. “Two weeks ago you quit the FBI, tell me you’re going ‘freelance,’ then move back into your old bedroom?”

  Kade shrugged. “What can I say? I miss Mona’s cooking. How’d you sleep last night?” He’d heard Blane cry out in his sleep, then get up and pace the floor. It had been nearly four in the morning before the sounds had quieted.

  Blane looked away. “Fine.” His abrupt reply fooled neither of them.

  “You know, maybe you should talk to someone,” Kade said.

  “I’m fine.”

  The way he said that had Kade dropping the subject. “Hey, let’s go to the shooting range today,” he suggested instead.

  Blane seemed to think about that for a moment. “All right,” he said at last, which was how the two of them found themselves alone at the shooting range at ten o’clock in the morning on a Wednesday.

  Cautious and edgy at first, it took Blane a while to relax. Kade gave him a hard time like he always did, comparing his target to Blane’s and dishing shit.

  “I think you’ve lost your touch, brother,” Kade teased. “I’m definitely the better shot.”

  “Bullshit,” Blane retorted. “Fifty bucks, best of three.”

  “You’re on.”

  They loaded new targets and Kade saw a few other men come in to the range and set up not far from them. Blane did, too, but he didn’t say anything.

  Things were going fine, he and Blane competing to see who could land the best round, until the other guys got to shooting. The range echoed with their shots. Kade barely noticed, until he saw the sweat beaded on Blane’s forehead and upper lip.

  Concerned, he stopped shooting and set aside his weapon. Blane was reloading but he seemed to be having trouble. When Kade stepped closer, he saw why. Blane’s hands were shaking.

  “Hey, man, you okay?” Kade shouted over the noise of the gunshots. The ear muffs made hearing difficult, so he touched Blane’s arm. Big mistake.

  Blane reacted instantly, spinning around and shoving his elbow into Kade’s chest, then smashed the back of his fist into Kade’s nose. The blows took him by surprise and knocked the wind out of him, but Kade stayed on his feet. He grabbed Blane’s arm just as Blane raised his gun. Pushing Blane’s wrist back but stopping short of breaking it, Kade got close, shoving Blane into the confines of the shooting gallery cubicle until they were eye-to-eye. The gun was between them, the deadly muzzle pointed toward the ceiling and Blane’s finger on the trigger.

  “It’s me, man,” Kade said urgently. “Take a breath. It’s me.” He kept as tight of a hold as he could on Blane’s wrist, the heavy bones and muscle straining against him. If he had to, he could stop Blane, but Kade would have to hurt him and he didn’t want to do that.

  Blane’s eyes darted around before finally landing on Kade’s. Now that he was up close, Kade could feel the heat radiating off Blane. He was sweating, and it wasn’t even hot in here.

  Kade waited, tense, but Blane’s gaze finally cleared and he relaxed. Gradually, Kade loosened his grip on him, then took the gun from Blane’s hand.

  “Get me out of here.”

  Kade barely heard Blane’s hoarse request, but he could read body language well enough. He didn’t even pause to collect their weapons, just tossed a “Grab our gear for us, Johnny, I’ll be back,” to the guy behind the counter on his way out the door with Blane. The other men had paused in their shooting and watched silently as they left.

  Once in the car, Kade started the engine and turned on the air, then let it sit idling with the air conditioning running full blast. Blane had his elbows braced on his knees, his hands covering his face. He didn’t speak.

  Flipping the mirror down on his visor, Kade looked at his reflection. Blood dripped from his nose and he felt carefully at the cartilage. Sore, but not broken. He’d like to keep it that way. It was a point of pride for him that, as many fights as he’d been in, he’d never had his nose broken. And it would totally suck if it happened to be his brother who finally did the honor.

  “You okay?”

  Kade glanced over at Blane, flipping the shade back up as he did so. He frowned. “Dude, I’m fine. I think you’re the one we should be worried about. It’s time we talk about it, like it or not.”

  “If I talk about it, I have to relive it.”

  Kade could relate to that. There were parts of his past he never wanted to talk about either, but then again, his past wasn’t encroaching on his present. Blane couldn’t say the same. So he was brutally honest.

  “Next time, I may not be able to stop you,” he said. “Another second—any hesitation on my part in there—you would’ve dropped me. And while I realize that there’ve been times you’ve wanted to kill me, I’d always hoped you didn’t mean that literally.”

  Blane was pale underneath his tan, his green gaze steady on Kade’s.

  Kade reached in the seat pocket behind him, pulling out a pack of cigarettes. He offered one to Blane, who took it, before shaking one out himself. Thumbing the lighter, he lit the cigarette, then tossed the lighter to Blane who did the same.

  “I keep having this dream,” Blane said after a few minutes of silent puffing. “It’s you and me. We’re in some alley fighting off a couple of guys.”

  Kade went still.

  “One of them has a knife, goes after you. Next thing I know, he’d dead at my feet.”

  Forcing himself to act normal, Kade took a drag of the cigarette. Blowing out the smoke, he said, “Well that sucks. Maybe you should watch some porn before you go to bed or something. You’d have better dreams.”

  But Blane didn’t laugh and the silence between them grew thick. Kade took another drag, glancing out the tinted window.

  “It’s not a dream, is it,” Blane said. “It happened. That night, two weeks ago, when we went out. I didn’t notice until the next day. My knuckles were bruised and there was blood on my clothes. Not my blood.”

  Shit. Kade slipped on his sunglasses, still staring out the window as his mind raced, trying to figure out the best way to handle this.

  “I told you we got in a fight,” Kade said, keeping his gaze averted.

  “But you’re not telling me everything.”

 
Kade didn’t reply. Heat radiated off the asphalt of the parking lot, the midday sun cooking the blacktop. It was a stark contrast to the chill of the air inside the car.

  “Tell me what I did,” Blane insisted. “Did I hurt someone and just can’t remember it? Kade—” He grabbed Kade’s arm, forcing Kade to look at him. “Did I kill that guy?”

  Kade stared at his brother, at the man who’d given up so much, who’d saved him, taken him in with only the bond of blood between them. That bond had grown from blood into trust, loyalty, and brotherhood. He opened his mouth.

  “You didn’t kill him. I did.” The words fell out of their own accord though once said, Kade was glad of it.

  “What are you talking about?”

  Kade shrugged. “Those jerks were waiting for us, ambushed us. The guy had a knife and slashed at me. I retaliated. You tried to stop me, but were too late. I hadn’t intended to kill him. It was just the heat of the moment kind of thing.”

  Blane stared. “Are you telling me the truth?”

  “Why would I lie about this?” Kade asked, avoiding the question. Lying to Blane wasn’t something he enjoyed doing, but he’d much rather take the fall than his brother. If Blane knew he’d killed someone, he’d want to turn himself in to the cops. No way in hell that was going to happen, no matter what Kade had to do. Blane wasn’t going to spend the next twenty years of his life in a prison cell.

  “So is that the real reason you quit the FBI?”

  Kade shrugged again. “Kinda hard to enforce truth, justice, and the American way when you’ve slit someone’s throat in a back alley brawl. I may be a murderer, but I’m not a hypocrite.”

  Blane winced at the word “murderer,” but Kade knew he wouldn’t turn him in, not his little brother. It was a ruthless move, to use Blane’s love and loyalty for Kade against him, but it was also necessary.

  “Can we get back to what we’re going to do about your little problem?” Kade asked, anxious to move away from the topic of that night in the alley. “What happened in there?”

  Blane shook his head. “I don’t know. The sound, the smell, it was making me tense. Then you grabbed me and it’s like I just…reacted.”

  Kade considered this. Nodded. “We need to expose you to civilian life again, bro, or you’re never going to get used to it. Until you know there’s not a threat lurking behind every corner, you’re dangerous to me and everyone around you.”

  Blane shook his head. “There’s no ‘we.’ You need to take off, go somewhere. I don’t want to do something stupid.”

  Yeah, that ship had sailed, Kade thought but didn’t say. “Bullshit,” he said instead. “I’m not leaving you alone. I’m the only one that can stop you when you get like that, so that means I’m not leaving your side, whether you like it or not.”

  Their eyes caught and Kade saw something akin to relief flash across Blane’s face, then it was gone.

  The drive back to the house was quiet, Blane retreating to his study while Kade flipped open the cell he’d palmed from Blane’s pocket. Scrolling through the contacts, he came across one that sounded promising. No last name, just a first: Todd. Kade hit the button to dial the number, walking into the empty kitchen as it rang.

  “Yo, Cap’n! What’s up? Long time, no see.”

  Kade frowned, pulling the phone away from his ear to glance at the number. Yeah, he’d dialed the right one. He put the phone back to his ear.

  “Cap’n?” the voice asked.

  “Yeah, it’s not ‘cap’n’,” Kade said. “Is this Todd?”

  “That depends on who’s asking,” the guy said, his voice guarded now.

  “I’m…a friend…of Blane’s,” Kade replied. “I’m looking for some more friends of Blane’s. Are you one of them?”

  “Why? Is he all right? Is he in trouble?” The anxiety in his voice told Kade he’d hit upon the right guy.

  “You could say that,” Kade said. “He just got back, you know, a few weeks ago. I think he’s been having some…issues adjusting to civilian life. Thought I’d look up some buddies of his, see if they might have some good advice for him.”

  “Yo, man, you did the right thing,” Todd said. “I’ve been back a year, and it sure as hell ain’t easy, especially at first.”

  “Maybe I could bring him to you, just something informal, you know? I thought it might help.”

  “Absolutely. I’ll call a couple other guys from our unit, we’ll all meet up, have a few beers, and talk.” He gave Kade the name and address of a bar in Indy. “Bring him tomorrow night,” Todd said. “That’ll give me time to round up the crew.”

  “Sounds good,” Kade said. “Thanks.” He felt relieved. God knows he’d do anything for Blane, so long as he knew what to do. This PTSD was like walking blindfolded through a minefield, though. If Blane wouldn’t talk to a professional, maybe talking with other men he’d served with would be just as good.

  “We’ll see you tomorrow night,” Kade said. “Seven o’clock.”

  “Wait, you didn’t tell me your name,” Todd said.

  “That’s right. I didn’t.” Kade ended the call.

  The next night, Blane didn’t protest when Kade wanted to go out for dinner. He was tense, Kade could see that, but seemed to trust that Kade wouldn’t let him get out of hand.

  Blane looked questioningly at the bar Kade pulled up to. It did look like a dive. Kade checked the address. Yeah, this was the place.

  “This isn’t really my style,” Blane said, raising an eyebrow.

  “You should branch out,” Kade said, pocketing the keys and getting out of the car. Blane followed suit.

  “You figure, if I go apeshit and bust a few things in this place, no one could tell the difference, right?”

  Kade laughed at Blane’s self-deprecating joke. At least he wasn’t denying that he couldn’t control his reactions. That was a good sign. “Something like that.”

  The inside was as dingy as the outside, just with a soundtrack, since the jukebox in the corner was blaring out AC/DC. Kade spotted a table full of guys and headed that direction. Blane fell into step behind him. Once they were close enough for the men to turn and spot them, Blane’s hand landed heavily on Kade’s shoulder, pulling him to a halt.

  “What did you do?”

  Kade glanced back at him. “You’ll have to be more specific.”

  “Hey! It’s the Captain! Yo, Cap! Over here!”

  Kade recognized the voice as the one on the phone, Todd. He was a big guy, but not the largest in the group. He was waving them over.

  “Why do they call you ‘Captain’?” Kade asked. “You know what? Never mind. I don’t wanna know.” He headed toward the table, leaving Blane no choice but to follow.

  Todd jumped so his feet, bypassing Kade to reach Blane. “Man, it’s good to see you!”

  “Same here.” Blane was smiling, but it seemed forced.

  “Hey, look who’s here,” Todd said, turning to the table where three other men sat. “You remember Rico and Sammy? Erik made it, too.”

  “You all just happened to be in this particular bar, on this night, at this specific time?”

  Blane’s dry question made Todd squirm a bit, and he cast a nervous glance Kade’s way. Stepping up to Blane, Kade turned his back to the table and spoke so only Blane could hear.

  “I called Todd,” he said. “You won’t talk to a shrink and you won’t talk to me. I thought you might talk to them. Chances are they’ve been through the same thing.”

  Blane didn’t reply and Kade couldn’t read his expression. He shifted his weight and waited before finally saying in exasperation. “Just give it a chance, will you? I don’t want to get shot by my own brother, for chrissakes.”

  That got through to him, Kade could tell. Blane didn’t say anything, he just gave a curt nod. Kade turned back to Todd and slapped Blane on the back.

  “Yeah, I gotta date with some hot chick, so you have fun.” He pointed at Todd. “Don’t keep him out past curfew, boys, he has to wo
rk tomorrow.”

  Blane just shook his head, his lips tipping up slightly at the corners. They all watched Kade leave, but he didn’t go far. He didn’t know those guys, even if Blane did, so he stuck around, parked his car in a shadowed lot across the street and kept an eye on the place. It was several hours later before he saw the group come out, Blane getting into a pickup with Todd.

  Kade was relieved, and hopeful, because there was nothing Blane could do that would drive Kade away. He was in it for however long it took to get his big brother back to being himself. Knowing that he’d hit upon a way to help him made Kade feel like a hundred pound weigh had just been lifted from his shoulders.

  Blane didn’t say much about the meeting, but he started hanging out with his SEAL buddies more often, at least twice a week. Kade kept up his normal routine, making Blane go out and experience civilian life in all its unpredictable forms. Sometimes those nights ended better than others, but each time got a little better.

  Six months later, Kade entered Blane’s study one Friday evening. No longer did Blane react by pointing a gun at him. He still tensed slightly, but his reactions were much more measured and controlled. Kade could only admire the strength of will and determination Blane had to retrain himself like that.

  Kade plopped down on the leather sofa, propping an ankle on his knee. “So I’m leaving tomorrow,” he said without preamble.

  Blane’s brows flew up in surprise. “That’s awfully sudden. Why?”

  Kade shrugged. “Been on vacation long enough. Time to get back to work.” The Senator, who’d also been monitoring Blane’s progress, had sent him a plane ticket this morning. The destination was Venezuela and the flight left at seven a.m. tomorrow.

  Blane hesitated. “You don’t have to go it alone,” he said. “The law firm could use an investigator. That’d be right up your alley.”

  Yes, it would, but his future was already spoken for, Kade thought. Regret whispered to him, but he ignored it. He didn’t regret the choice he’d made, and he’d make the same one again to spare Blane.

  “Thanks, but I already have plans,” he said. “I leave pretty early in the a.m. so tell Mona goodbye for me, would you? I didn’t have a chance to tonight.”