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

  “I’m not asking Blane for that kind of money,” she said with a firm shake of her head.

  Kade snorted. “Don’t be ridiculous. It’s not like he doesn’t have it.” But she only shook her head again. Her pride, Kade was sure, was getting the best of her common sense at the moment. He could relate to that. But come Saturday and the threat of becoming a prostitute in actuality, she’d see sense.

  “I thought you were hungry,” she said, getting to her feet and obviously changing the subject. “Let’s go.”

  But Kade still held the ornament.

  “Your parents?” he asked.

  “Yes.” She took it from him and carefully replaced it on the tree.

  Kade knew more about Kathleen than she realized or would no doubt want him know. Thinking he might let something slip if he didn’t have her tell him herself something about her history, Kade asked, “Where are they? Where are you from, anyway?”

  “I’m from Rushville, Indiana,” she said. “And they’re no longer with me.”

  The note of sadness in her voice and longing in her eyes as she looked at the picture struck Kade. Why would she let herself show such vulnerability? Didn’t she know that if you showed a weakness, it could hurt you? Caring was like painting a target on your back.

  She gave him a tight smile that didn’t reach her eyes. “Ready?”

  Ready for an entire day in her presence? Only if ready meant equal parts anticipation and dread—anticipation because being with Kathleen for such a long period of time made him feel like it was Christmas morning; dread because despite his best intentions, Kade knew he’d fuck it up somehow.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  It was cold outside but clear, the sun promising to be blinding later as it reflected off the snow. Kade took Kathleen to his favorite breakfast joint off Meridian. Ushering her inside, they sat at the counter and a waitress handed them menus.

  One of everything sounded good, but Kade settled on the house omelet. Peering at Kathleen as the waitress waited for her order, he saw her face crease in a frown.

  “Um, I’ll have coffee and a plain bagel, toasted.”

  Bullshit. Kade grabbed the menu from her. “You can’t live on that,” he said. He couldn’t remember seeing her eat last night. Had she eaten while he’d been gone? “She’ll have…” something sweet and full of carbs… “the croissant French toast. That looks good.” He handed the menu over. “And you know what? Skip the coffee for both of us. We’ll have two Bloody Mary’s instead.”

  The waitress left and Kathleen turned to him.

  “Why did you do that?” she asked, sounding exasperated.

  “Relax. You don’t come to a place like this and just order a bagel. And I think if we’re going to be spending the day together, some booze would help.” Lots of booze would help more, but he was driving, so…

  The waitress brought their drinks and Kade discarded the straw before taking a long swallow. He eyed Kathleen primly taking a sip beside him. He wanted to talk to her, ask her more about her past, why she’d come to Indianapolis, what she wanted today, tomorrow, ten years from now—but he made himself look away from her and stay quiet.

  Her presence at his side felt comfortable. It felt…right. Kade had been alone for so long through the day-to-day acts of living and working and being—it was almost a comfort to be with someone. He wondered if he was just tired of being alone…or if it was because it was her. She seemed to sense his mood, not trying to fill the silence with idle chatter that would drive him nuts. Seemingly content, she sipped at her drink and people-watched.

  The food arrived quickly and Kade dug in. He watched Kathleen surreptitiously as she poured way too much syrup on the French toast and took a bite. Her eyes slid shut.

  “Good choice?” he asked, absurdly glad he’d changed her order from a bagel.

  She nodded as she chewed, a small smile curving her lips.

  Ridiculous, how pleased her happiness made him. God, he must be going soft.

  “Want to try?” she asked, piercing another bite with her fork and holding it out to him.

  Obediently, Kade leaned forward and ate it, then grimaced. Yeah, he’d been right. “Too much syrup,” he said.

  Kathleen laughed, a sound Kade instinctively knew he’d never tire of hearing. “There’s no such thing,” she said, her blue eyes twinkling.

  She ate the whole thing, though Kade finished before her. Returning to sip at what remained of the Bloody Mary, she surprised him.

  “Why didn’t you come home for Thanksgiving?” she asked.

  She wasn’t looking at him, not even when Kade glanced her way, and he wondered at the question. What did she care why he’d stayed away? And how was he supposed to answer that?

  I’ve been obsessed with you for months and sitting across a table eating turkey and watching you and Blane be all lovey-dovey and shit was not my idea of a holiday.

  “I was working,” he answered. Vague usually did the trick, at least it did with Mona and Blane. The minute he mentioned work, they stopped asking questions.

  “Well, you’re going to stick around for Christmas, aren’t you?”

  Fuck. He shrugged, but who the hell was he kidding? If Kathleen wanted him there for Christmas, there was no way he was going to disappoint her. Especially when she turned to him, those blue eyes wide and pleading.

  “You have to. I know Mona and Gerard want you there and I’m sure Blane does, too.”

  Not if he’d known why I bailed on Thanksgiving, Kade thought. He gave a short huff of laughter, then met her gaze. “And what about you?” he asked, despite the fact that he shouldn’t want to know.

  She was so close…Kade’s eyes dropped to her mouth. Shit. She had a tiny drop of syrup on her upper lip, right at the corner. He was struck with an insane impulse to lean forward and lick it from her skin. He doubted she’d appreciate that.

  “You have some syrup…” he murmured, reaching out and gently swiping the drop away. Her skin was so soft, he couldn’t help touching her lips. Were they as smooth and silky as they looked?

  The satin texture of her skin sent Kade’s pulse into overdrive. Her lips parted slightly and he could just see the pearl of her teeth and feel the heat of her breath.

  Dropping his hand, Kade’s gaze met hers. Her eyes were wide and surprised as they stared into his, then she seemed to recollect herself, turning away and taking a deep swallow of her drink.

  Kade hid a grin. So she wasn’t unaffected by him. Why that gave him such satisfaction, he didn’t want to dwell on.

  “It doesn’t matter what I want,” she said, and it took him a second to remember what question she was answering. “I’m not family. You are.”

  Kade went still, utterly taken aback at her matter-of-fact statement. He frowned. He’d told her about his past, sort of, that Blane was his half-brother and Kade the bastard he’d taken in when their father had died. He was blood, true, but…family…that had a whole different connotation. And she’d said it automatically, like it just…was. He and Blane were family.

  This was still turning over inside his head when the waitress came with the bill. Kade saw Kathleen reach for her purse, but he preempted her, tossing down some cash to cover it. Not only could she not afford it, if he paid, then technically it was a date.

  “Thanks for breakfast,” she said, buttoning her coat as they walked outside.

  “Thank Blane. I’m sending him the bill.” Not. He’d taken Kathleen on a date. It was like his own personal secret, a guilty pleasure.

  Kade turned toward where he’d parked the car, but Kathleen stopped, her eyes on a store across the street.

  “Can you give me a minute?” she asked.

  “What for?”

  “I just need to go in there”—she pointed to the store—”do some Christmas shopping. Please?”

  Ugh. Shopping. Like being tortured, only you paid to do it. But her eyes pleaded with him so, that was pretty much that.

  “All right, but ten minutes,
tops.”

  Kade had no idea what she could possibly be shopping for in an art studio, but she disappeared into the recesses of the store in search of someone who actually worked there. The front of the store was deserted so he killed time by looking around.

  Paintings and prints of famous paintings hung on the walls and he browsed. One caught his eye and he stopped.

  Picasso. He hated Picasso. But he’d never seen this one before. Entitled Maternity, it depicted a woman breast-feeding a baby. She had long, dark hair and her shoulders were wrapped in fabric and she gazed down at her child while he fed. You’d expect her to be smiling, but she wasn’t, not really. Instead, her face was solemn with only a small tilt to her lip, as though she was sad but couldn’t help the bit of happiness inside that being so close with her child brought.

  Her expression was so similar to his memory of his mother’s, it rendered Kade immobile.

  She’d always seemed just a bit sad, always worrying, but trying not to show it. He remembered dinners of canned soup that they’d split, or baked potatoes. He’d been five when she’d had to leave him alone at night to go to work. She’d put him to bed, kiss his cheek, and tell him she’d be home by the time he woke up.

  And she had been.

  Exhausted but always wearing a smile, she’d get him ready for school and put him on the bus. Her day job was from nine to three and Kade had no idea now when she’d slept or how she’d kept going. But she’d been determined to keep them off welfare, and she had.

  Then she’d gotten sick.

  In retrospect, she’d gone awfully fast and Kade wondered if they’d have been able to do anything for her even if she had gone to the doctor. But they couldn’t afford doctor bills or the tests they’d do, and a month after she’d gotten sick, she’d been too ill to go in for her night job and called in. That night, she’d died.

  Had it been worth it? Kade often wondered if his mother had thought having him had been worth the price she’d paid. She’d sacrificed her youth—her life—for him. Had she regretted it? Would she regret it if she knew what he had become?

  “It’s lovely, isn’t it?”

  Kathleen’s words broke through Kade’s thoughts and he turned to see her standing next to him.

  No, lovely wouldn’t be the word he’d choose. His mother’s sacrifice for him had been stupid. He wasn’t worth it. If not for him, she’d still be alive today.

  “Are you done?” he asked, forcing his thoughts back to the present.

  She nodded, searching his eyes as though aware he’d been lost in a dark place.

  Kade slipped his sunglasses back on once they were outside. He’d been right. The glare was blinding. They walked in silence for a minute, then she spoke.

  “So, can you tell me what it is exactly that you do?” she asked once they’d reached the car.

  So she’d look at him like the monster he was? No, thanks. “I could tell you, but then I’d have to kill you,” he said instead.

  She rolled her eyes. “Isn’t that line a little overused? Even for you?”

  Kade unlocked the doors and opened the passenger side for her. He didn’t know when he’d decided to brush up on the manners for her, opening doors and shit, it had just happened.

  “Ouch,” he said. “I must be losing my touch if you think that was a line.”

  “You don’t scare me, Kade.” She crossed her arms over her chest, gazing at him as if daring him to contradict her.

  Damn, but she was brave. Stupidly so. How many times was he going to have to prove to her what a dick he was?

  Kade got in her space, bracing his hands against the car on either side and caging her. She jumped, startled, and he bent down until their faces were only inches apart.

  “You sure about that, princess?” He spoke in a voice meant to frighten, all hard chips and nails and threat.

  Her throat moved as she swallowed. “Do you want me to be?”

  Kathleen’s question took him by surprise, the stark simplicity of it rendering him speechless.

  Did he want her to be? He should. She should be terrified of him. Kade was a man with no conscience and no soul. To someone as pure and good as Kathleen, he was a tainted parasite who would do nothing but destroy her.

  But he didn’t want her to hate him. Didn’t want her afraid.

  The easiness of her company was like a balm on the darkness inside him, a warm ray of sunshine after a harsh, bleak winter. Despite the vicious way he’d spoken to her, the disdain and contempt he’d shoveled her way, she seemed to forgive so easily, to want to see something good in him that she could trust.

  It defied logic, and yet…

  She reached up, slowly removing his sunglasses, until they were eye-to-eye. Her brow creased in a frown as she gazed into his eyes.

  For the first time, Kade felt like someone was looking into his soul—someone who understood—and who didn’t judge him.

  It terrified him.

  Snatching his glasses back, he jerked away from her. “Get in.” He didn’t look to see if she obeyed. He was too busy trying to pull his shit together.

  Kade didn’t want to talk, and he didn’t want her to talk either. He felt as though the ground was shifting under his feet and that slope he was on was getting steeper by the minute.

  Kathleen was blessedly silent. But she fidgeted, her hands twisting in her lap, obviously nervous and maybe even afraid. He should be glad of that, but he wasn’t.

  It was a good twenty minutes before he couldn’t take it anymore.

  “Stop it,” he ordered.

  “Stop what?”

  He glanced at her, then back at the road. “You’re acting like I’m going to hurt you,” he said.

  She laughed, but it wasn’t quite right. “And that would be a surprise how?”

  Ouch. He had to hand it to her, she seemed to know just the thing to say that would get under his skin.

  “I’ve never laid a hand on you and you know it.” As if he’d deliberately cause her physical harm. He’d sooner eat a bullet.

  “You don’t have to.”

  And she goes in for the kill.

  Their eyes met for a moment, but Kade couldn’t handle the hurt and accusation in hers, so he quickly looked away.

  “Why do you do…what you do?” she asked.

  She couldn’t even say it, that’s how offensive it was.

  “You mean kill people for a living?” Might as well call a spade a spade.

  “Is that what you do?”

  The urge to make himself not look like such a sorry excuse for a human being was strong, so he told her the truth.

  “I do what needs to be done. Last week I stopped a man from raping and murdering a fifteen-year-old girl. He’d done it before and gotten away with it. I just made sure he wouldn’t be doing it again.”

  She was quiet for a moment, seeming to digest this, before saying, “But you can’t be judge and jury.”

  “Why not? Who else was going to save that girl? Or the one after that?”

  “I don’t have an answer. I just know that it can’t be good…for you…for your soul…to do that.”

  What the fuck did she know about his soul? Kade had lost whatever innocence he’d been born with by the time he turned seven. Anything good in him had long since been eaten up by the bad. Kade could look in a man’s eyes as he begged for mercy and not feel a fucking thing before he pulled the trigger, or after. He didn’t lose sleep at night over the things he’d done. The fact that she thought there was something to be redeemed in his soul was a fucking joke.

  Parking the car in Freeman’s driveway, he turned off the engine and turned her way.

  “Don’t try to rescue me, Kathleen. I’m beyond saving.”

  With that warning, he got out, leaving her to follow along to the front door. Or not. At this point, he didn’t particularly care if she came with him or stayed in the car.

  But she did get out and in a moment, stood by his side on the porch. Kade pressed the doorbell and
waited. Nothing. He tried again. Still nothing.

  “I guess he’s not home,” Kathleen said with a shrug.

  Which would be a perfect time to break in and take a look around, not that Kade told her that.

  “I’ll check out the back,” he said instead. “You stay here.”

  Kade left without waiting for her reply and headed around to the back of the house. They had a chain-link fence, but the latch was frozen solid, ice encasing the metal. Grasping the top of the fence, Kade vaulted over, landing on his feet in the snow.

  The back patio had a charcoal grill next to a table and four chairs that had seen better days. A flower pot with a dead plant stood in the corner. The sliding glass doors had a lock that was also frozen, so it took Kade longer than usual to get inside.

  The patio led into the dim living room and Kade silently stepped through the doorway. No one was around and the house was completely still. He explored until he came across the kitchen…and Kathleen, doing exactly what he’d told her not to do. He’d said to stay and here she fucking was, her back to him and gazing at—

  —at the dead body on the floor.

  She stumbled backward, right into Kade, and let loose a blood-curdling scream. She shoved away from him, but Kade instantly had his arm locked around her, spinning her around to press her body against his, and his hand over her mouth to shut her up. As soon as she saw who held her, she sagged against him in relief.

  Kade took in the blood underneath the body of the man and knew he’d been dead a while, which meant whoever had done it, was long gone. But Kathleen was shaking all over. It had scared her, and who could blame her? She’d probably never seen anything like this before.

  “Are you all right?” he asked.

  She gave a jerky nod, her chest still heaving.

  Kade didn’t want to let her go, but the sooner he took a look, the quicker he could get her out of her.

  Carefully setting her aside, he stepped to the body—it had to be Freeman—carefully skirting the pool of blood.

  The cause of death was easy to see—a gunshot to the head. Considering the nearly pristine skull and splatter of brain matter from the exit wound, most likely a professional hit, maybe an attempt at making it look like suicide. Getting to his feet, he returned to Kathleen who’d stayed where he’d left her for once.