Turn On A Dime - Kade's Turn (Kathleen Turner Series Book 7) Page 4

  Kade glanced at the dog and cat snuggled together on the obnoxiously pink pet bed.

  “She might be pissed,” he deadpanned. “It’s hard to tell.”

  The animals didn’t react to the joke, the dog’s tongue lolling as the cat blinked lazily at him.

  With a sigh, Kade tugged off his shirt and took some clothes from his suitcase. A shower would be good, and a shave. Kathleen hadn’t given him the grand welcoming tour, so he made himself at home in her bathroom, stripping off his clothes and stepping under the steaming spray.

  Water was running in a warm cascade down his back when he heard the screaming.

  He was out of the shower and yanking on his pants in the next breath, not bothering to fasten them, then out the door with gun in hand. Kathleen was still screaming.

  Adrenaline flooded through him as he flung Kathleen’s bedroom door open. She was standing with her back to the wall and as far away from the bed as she could get, wearing nothing but her shirt…which had blood smeared on it. Kade was in front of her in two strides and she stopped screaming.

  “Kathleen, what happened? Where are you hurt?” He couldn’t see any visible marks, and yet the blood was fresh. Frantically, he searched her skin, but her arms, legs, head were all unscathed.

  She glanced down, seemingly unaware of what he was talking about.

  “Get it off! Get if off me!” She was crying now, and yanking at her shirt until it was off, then flinging it away. Her knees suddenly gave out and she slid down the wall to the floor.

  Kade dropped down in front of her, focusing his eyes on hers. She was hysterical, sobbing and shaking like a leaf.

  “Kathleen, talk to me! Are you hurt?”

  She gave a shake of her head. “The blood’s not mine. It’s from the eyeball.”

  What the fuck? The eyeball? “From the what?” he asked, but she only pointed.

  Turning, Kade got up and saw a box on the bed and something on the floor where Kathleen had indicated. Crouching down, Kade saw a human eye, still bloody and intact. Grabbing the box, he used it to get the eye off the floor, then saw the packaging it had come in. There was no return address, but a scrap of paper was still inside. Taking it out, Kade read:

  Kirk—your girl’s baby blues are next. I’m always watching.

  Blane had been right. There really was a sick fuck targeting Kathleen.

  Returning to Kathleen, she asked, “What did it say?” Kade handed it to her. She read it without comment, though what little color remained in her face drained away.

  There weren’t many women who could’ve handled something like that, and yet Kathleen had. She’d stopped crying. The only indication she was upset was the terror in her eyes and the tremors wracking her body. Her knees were pulled tight to her chest, as though to make herself as small as possible.

  Kade sat down next to her, taking the paper from her hands and setting aside the box and his gun. He pulled her into his arms, wishing there wasn’t a sick part of him that enjoyed the feel of her skin against his despite the gruesome circumstances.

  “You all right?” he asked. He couldn’t help sliding his hand down her naked back. It was a gesture meant to be soothing, though he found it was far from that for him.

  She nodded. “I’m fine,” she said in a small voice.

  Somehow Kade thought that would be her response no matter how badly she was hurting, upset, or afraid. But she wasn’t fine. Her whole body trembled as she curled into him.

  “Sorry for the screaming,” she said, her voice slightly hoarse.

  The fact that she felt she needed to apologize to him because he might be angry with her for losing it made him wince. “You’re entitled,” he said. An understatement.

  Kade thought he should probably move, should probably stop touching her, but he didn’t. Her skin was like silk beneath his fingertips as they trailed lightly up and down her spine, brushing over the thin strap of her bra. He tried not to think of how easily he could undo the clasp, a skill he’d honed way back in high school, or how her naked breasts would feel pressed against his chest.

  Kathleen tipped her head back and Kade automatically looked down at her. As soon as his eyes met hers, he knew he was in trouble.

  “Thanks for being here,” she said, her blue gaze so trusting, it made his gut ache.

  “No problem,” he replied. Though it was a problem. A big one. And if he gauged the tension between them in any kind of accurate way, it wasn’t just his problem. She had to feel it, too, the attraction and energy.

  He couldn’t help lifting his hand to brush her hair back from her face, the clear blue of her eyes steady on him as the strands sifted through his fingers. Kade couldn’t look away from her, only too aware now of the lack of adequate separation between his hands and the parts of her body most off-limits to him.

  Who the fuck was he kidding? All of her was off-limits, but that didn’t stop him from touching her. Her hands rested lightly on his chest and his dick was hard as a rock inside his jeans.

  Her gaze drifted down his neck and chest, and suddenly Kade was glad for the hours he spent staying in shape. The line of her throat moved as she swallowed and her eyes again lifted to his. Kade’s self-control was slipping, the pull she had on him strong enough to make him forget all the reasons he had for keeping his distance. He didn’t have it in him to push her away, not when every muscle was screaming at him to pull her closer. She’d have to do it.

  He slipped his hand further down her back to where the thin satin covered her incredible ass. “You know, if I didn’t know what a shitload of trouble you were, I might be persuaded to get the wrong idea,” he murmured, forcing his lips into a smirk.

  Kade’s thinly veiled insinuation had the desired effect. She was on her feet and running for her closet in two seconds flat while Kade admired the view.

  “You’re vile and repulsive,” she spat at him, pulling on a robe on and belting it tightly.

  Check and check.

  “I’m not the one throwing themselves at me,” he said, insolently shrugging.

  As expected, that sent her off the deep end.

  “Throwing themselves?” she spluttered. “You bastard! And to think I thanked you for being here!”

  Kade got to his feet, then ducked as she launched one of those heavy, scented candles at him. She’d already sent another projectile his way and was looking for more when the candle hit the wall.

  Yeah, he’d guess he wouldn’t be touching her naked back again anytime soon. But seeing her mad was better than seeing her terrified, and after she’d gotten some of it out of her system, Kade dodged the barrage and grabbed her.

  Pressing her body against the wall, he pinned her arm over her head. Her wrist felt way too fragile in his grip.

  “Enough,” he ordered.

  “Fuck you.”

  Okay, that was hot.

  Her snarled insult was a pleasant surprise, and a turn-on. God, he loved a woman who could go toe-to-toe with him. He shoved the thought aside.

  “You feel that?” he said, getting close enough to smell her lingering perfume. “You feel that rage inside? Burning hot in the pit of your stomach?” He’d felt it from the time he was six years old.

  She nodded, her brow furrowed in confusion.

  “That’s what’s going to keep you alive. Hold on to it. Fear will only sign your death warrant. Stay mad, princess.”

  In the end, he couldn’t resist pressing his lips to her forehead, the satin of her skin as intoxicating as the scent of her hair. She didn’t move and he made himself grab the box and walk out of the bedroom.

  Time for a cold shower.

  Kade made quick work of it, bypassing shaving for now. The five o’clock shadow was more than a shadow, but it’d have to wait. After dressing, he dialed a number on his cell.

  “Donovan, hey, it’s Dennon,” he said. “Listen, I have a…bit of a situation. Was hoping you could help me out.”

  In a few minutes, he explained what was going on.


  “I got a handle on it,” he said, “but I could use some forensics on the eyeball.”

  Grabbing a pen, Kade scrawled an address on a notepad left on the kitchen counter.

  “Got it. I’ll be there shortly,” he said, his cell beeping in to inform him of another call. He switched over. It was Blane.

  “What a shitty fucking day,” Blane said by way of greeting. “Tell me everything’s okay with Kat.”

  “Everything’s okay with Kat,” Kade echoed. He decided to hold off on telling Blane about the eye.

  Blane sighed heavily. “Good. One less thing to worry about. I had an idea to throw off whoever’s watching.”

  “What’s that?”

  “No time to explain. I’ll show up at the bar tonight. Just tell Kat to play along, okay?”

  “Will do.” Play along. That sounded like something Kathleen wasn’t going to like very much.

  “Thanks. Gotta go.”

  Kade ended the call just as Kathleen emerged from her bedroom.

  She was in her work uniform of black pants and a black shirt, the neckline low enough to make his mouth water. Her skin looked like cream against the dark material, the color making her hair shine like rose gold in the ponytail she’d put it in. But the set of her lips was grim and the circles under her eyes couldn’t be fully concealed with makeup.

  “I called a buddy of mine who works for the FBI,” Kade explained. “He’s going to get the eye and note examined, see if there’s anything we can find out about where it came from.”

  She nodded, then hesitated before saying, “The person…the eye…they’re dead, aren’t they.”

  Ah, the bleeding heart. He should’ve known that she wouldn’t be thinking about herself and the danger she was in, but about the person who’d likely died at the hands of the sick fuck who’d sent the package.

  Kade’s fingers itched to touch her again and he didn’t resist the compulsion to step closer to her. She swallowed, her gaze lifting to his.

  “I’d say so, yeah.”

  Another nod, and he saw her hands clench into little fists. Time to change the subject.

  “I talked with Blane. He’s had a bad day.”

  “That makes two of us,” she said.

  Her wry wit, even in the face of what had happened tonight, amused Kade.

  “He said he’d come by the bar tonight and that I’m to tell you to ‘play along,’” he said.

  “Play along? What does that mean?”

  Kade shrugged. “I have an idea but I’m sure we’ll find out soon enough.”

  Kathleen chewed her lip, seemingly lost in thought, and it occurred to Kade that it would be just like her to keep things from Blane—information that could be beneficial to keeping her alive.

  “Is there anything else that’s happened?” he asked. “Anything that you haven’t told Blane?”

  Kade could tell immediately that he’d guessed right. Everything she was thinking showed on her face. She didn’t have a deceitful bone in her body and he had a brief flash of regret for ever believing she’d been in on a plot against Blane.

  “Tell me,” he ordered, before she could gather her wits.

  She hesitated, then spoke. “It was yesterday in the morning. I went out to my car to go to work.”

  “And?” Kade prompted.

  “And there was a dead possum,” she blurted. “Someone had slit its little throat and they’d used its blood to write in the snow on my car.”

  Kade inhaled sharply, his jaw clenching. Mutilation of animals was never a good sign.

  “And it said?” he asked.

  “It said Kirk’s whore.” She raised an eyebrow. “Maybe a friend of yours?”

  Ouch.

  She ducked past him, but Kade reached and snagged her arm, jerking her back.

  “You didn’t think that was something you should’ve told Blane?” he asked. Who would’ve gone apeshit, he thought but didn’t say. God knows how close this guy had been to her while she’d been looking at the dead animal. He could’ve been watching, just waiting for the right moment. The thought chilled Kade, which just pissed him off.

  “Since you haven’t been around to notice, Blane’s been a little busy. The last thing he needs is for me to be laying more crap at his doorstep.” Her sneering said she wasn’t backing down no matter how hard he was gripping her arm.

  And it wasn’t like he could tell her that he’d have the image of her with her throat cut in his head to add to the nightmares he already fought on a nightly basis, so he lashed out.

  “Usually, I would agree,” he snarled. “But he’s been shot at twice now, and I’m not willing to let him get hurt if you’re the target.”

  “Gee, thanks for the support,” she said, her sarcasm thick. “With a bodyguard like you, I might as well just slit my wrists.” With that, she snatched her arm away and stalked to the door, angrily jerking on her coat.

  Kade had stifle a full out grin at that, Kathleen again taking him by surprise. It was rare that someone made him laugh, so he had a great appreciation for it when it happened.

  He was by her side by the time she’d opened the door, gun in hand and shielding her from direct line of sight. He scanned the lot while she locked the door, then didn’t bother asking before wrapping an arm around her and tucking her against his side. She stiffened immediately.

  “Is this really necessary?” she asked, trying fruitlessly to push away from him.

  Her squirming only served to press her breasts and hips more closely to his side. As if he needed reminding.

  “Shut up and walk.”

  Silence again reigned in the car on the way to the bar and Kade took her inside the same way he’d gotten her to the car—by using his body as a shield and keeping every sense on high alert for a possible ambush. The irony that he was putting himself in harm’s way for this chick was not lost on him.

  And he didn’t like it.

  “I have to leave for a while,” he told her once they were inside. “Meet my friend and give him the package. What time do you get off?”

  “I work until close tonight.”

  Good. “I’ll be back before then.”

  “That’s just great. I’ll be counting the minutes.” Her snide comment coupled with a fake smile ignited his temper. Here he was ready to take a fucking bullet for her and she was being a little snot. Somehow he bet Blane had never seen this particular side of Kathleen.

  “Try to lose the bitchy before I get back,” he retorted, then he was out the door before she could come up with some other wiseass remark to piss him off, which would be bad—or make him laugh, which would be worse.

  He was already attracted to her. He didn’t want to like her, too.

  It took over an hour to drive to the FBI forensic lab and drop off the sample. Kade called Donovan again on his way back to the bar.

  “It’s in,” he said. “Have them run handwriting analysis, too, along with prints. The girl’s prints and mine will be on there, but maybe he left behind some of his own.”

  Donovan confirmed the orders, then said. “I opened a case on this. I’m having an agent go through missing persons now to see if we can find a possible match for the eye. I can’t put any agents on the girl right now, though. Local PD might help.”

  “That’s fine. I’m on protective detail for the foreseeable future.”

  “All right then. I’ll be in touch.”

  “Thanks, man.” Kade ended the call as he pulled into the lot for The Drop. When he walked in, he saw that once again, Kathleen had a talent for being a shitload of trouble.

  She was standing by a table of guys, one of them with his arm locked around her waist. As Kade watched, he pulled at the neckline of her top to peer down inside. Kathleen grabbed a mug of beer and tossed it in his face. Kade’s lips twisted in admiration as the man let her go, but she didn’t get away quick enough. In the next moment, he’d jerked her back by her hair and had his hand squeezing the back of her neck.

 
; And Kade went from amused to enraged in the span of a split second.

  People took one look at him and scurried out of his way as he stalked toward the table. Kade didn’t notice, his eyes locked on the asshole who was going to regret laying a finger on Kathleen.

  “—already got a beer dumped on me, I should at least get to cop a feel, right, sugar?” the guy was saying.

  “Let her go and I might consider not breaking your arm,” Kade said. Which was a lie. He’d be lucky if that was all Kade did to him.

  The guy glanced at Kade, assessing him. Deciding he wasn’t a threat—big mistake—he dismiss him with a “Fuck off.”

  Perfect.

  Kade had a hand on the guy’s arm and another on the back of his neck. A twist of the wrist and Kathleen was free, a hard kick to the guy’s chair dislodged him enough for Kade to slam his face into the wooden table. He missed a mug by a hair. Damn. That would’ve left a nice mark.

  The mugs toppled to the floor and shattered as the other men jumped to their feet, their eyes wide at Kade’s assault. A hard jerk and Kade heard the satisfying crack of a broken bone and a dislocated shoulder.

  The asshole was grimacing in pain, his face white, and Kade leaned down to whisper in his ear.

  “Apologize to the girl, fucktard.”

  “I…I’m sorry,” he babbled.

  “Tell her you’re a fucking asshole and that you won’t bother her anymore.”

  “I’m a…”

  “Fucking asshole,” Kade repeated.

  “I’m a fucking asshole and…”

  “And you won’t bother her anymore,” Kade prompted.

  “…and I won’t bother you anymore. I swear.”

  Kade jerked his injured arm up higher, satisfied when the guy howled in pain. He whispered again. “I see you in here again, your friends will have to carry you out because I’ll break both your fucking legs.”

  He let him go and the group of them hustled fucktard out the door. Just then, another waitress and a guy—probably the cook, judging from his stained apron—appeared.

  “What happened?” the girl asked. Her nametag read Jill. “Are they gone?”