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“Holy fuck,” I breathe out. “You told Kane.”
I don’t even give him time to reply and confirm. I know. “Damn it,” I murmur, turning away from him and walking outside into what feels like brutal cold right about now. I left the damn police jacket behind somewhere, which isn’t even like me. I don’t leave things behind unless it’s by choice. Obviously, there are some things I don’t leave behind at all, or nothing that happened tonight with me would have happened.
Jay catches up with me. “I was worried, Lilah. You are never like you were back there.”
Ignoring people is a skill I mastered the day I was born. I ignore him now. I duck under the tape to find Kane leaning against the SUV that’s parked just outside the police line.
And he’s here, not off somewhere else doing his work because Jay ran his mouth.
Exactly what I did not want.
The freak in the mask already took photos of Kane, created a shrine of shots, and hung dolls hanging by their necks. He made it clear to me that he’d come after Kane. And Kane himself already made it clear to me this very night, he’s human, he bleeds and he can die. And so am I. Mostly. Maybe.
I have a strong feeling me and the freak in the mask are going to find out before this is over.
Chapter Seventeen
Here’s the bizarro world part of Kane being here, because we all know Kane acting like a macho, protective gangster is not bizarro at all. But he’s not just here, waiting for me, he’s talking to a police officer, as in having a casual conversation.Kane. The man they all call a drug dealer and spent countless resources to prove as much. And it’s not an uncomfortable conversation, either. The cop seems to be telling Kane his life story.
Kane must sense eyes on him because his stare lifts and locks on me. There’s a punch of awareness between us that isn’t like “Oh, be still my heart” or even “Wham, bam let's go have sex.” It’s more like, “We need to talk, fight, then fuck a whole bunch of shit out of our systems before we attempt to talk all over again.” It’s going to be one of those nights. The cop finally realizes I’m now walking his way, and he pretty much tucks his tail and runs. That’s how weird this situation is right now. Kane doesn’t scare him but I do. I’m the one with the badge.
I stop in front of him. “If Jay is going to go behind my back and run to you, he can’t work for me. The end.”
I step around him with every intention of getting in the car where it’s warm. “Lilah,” he says tightly, and the very fact that he doesn’t touch me when I know him, and I know he wants to physically pull me back to him is why I stop. It’s him not wanting to make a scene in front of my peers. It’s about respecting my job. It’s also about a conversation that isn’t witnessed by Kit and Jay.
I turn and he’s facing me, the vehicle at my back and his big body shielding me from the weather, as I say, “I don’t blame Jay,” as if he’s made a statement or asked a question. “I blame you. You scare him more than I scare him.”
“Jay doesn’t fear me, Lilah. He cares about you. That’s not something I command of him. It’s something that happened when he figured out that behind your wall is a real person who does all of this because you care about saving lives.”
Unbidden, there’s an image of me slamming the knife into Roger’s chest, which has me swallowing hard and wondering how true that statement he just made really is or is not. He convinced me to keep my badge for a reason. It’s about a place to hide.
For both of us.
I have no idea what the hell is going on with me tonight, but I need to be inside Purgatory, working this case, consumed by my duty, not my history. I say nothing to Kane, I simply slide inside the vehicle.
He follows, of course, because nothing I do, no matter what it is, detours Kane from his pursuit. The emotions he stirs in me, now and always, ground me. They remind me that I am human. I am not cold and callus, but I canbecold and callus. These are two different things and two different people.
I do care about saving people.
But sometimes I fear it’s about proving something to me and the world I should not have to prove.
Chapter Eighteen
On the bright side, in a night filled with murder and jabbermouths, I trust everyone in the vehicle with my life…just not to keep their traps shut with Kane.
Kane slides in close but not too close.
He’s playing it safe, not sorry. You never know when I might punch a guy, even if I’m in love with him. Sometimes because I am, at least in Kane’s case.
Not that you’d call us snugglers or two people who pack on PDA, anyway. We have reputations to protect. His as a cartel boss, killer, and badass, and mine as simply a bitch. In his case, I fear his reputation has suffered while mine has not. That cop liked him a little too much and feared me a little too much. Perhaps not for the reasons I thought at first. Maybe he’s more comfortable around crime than law. I think back to Kane leaning on the door either entertained or irritated by the cop, and it’s hard for me to judge the height of the other man.
The vehicle starts to move and I shift around to face Kane. “Who was the cop talking to you?”
“Mark. Just transferred in from Florida. He’s not your guy. He didn’t have any idea who I was.”
“Or he’s a good actor. That’s what this guy does. Acts out roles.”
“If he’s a killer, I’m a Sunday school teacher,” Kane says, producing his cellphone. “But I always pay attention to those who pay attention to me. I made a point of memorizing his badge number.” He punches in a text and hits send.
