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“I know what’s on the line, Kane. I wasn’t going to kill him. The fantasy was where it stopped.”
“If you would have gotten in that vehicle, he would have killed you.”
“You underestimate me.”
“You underestimate him because you see me control him. That wasn’t me controlling him, Lilah, or you wouldn’t have been in a back alley with guns pointed at you.”
I push out of his arms and when I would fight onward, a flashback of those photos of Kane sitting in the diner the killer left for me on that theater wall and all those dolls hanging from nooses delivers memories of how terrified I was for Kane. I couldn’t breathe until I saw him, until I knew he was alive and well. I freaked out, and I don’t freak out unless it ends with me stabbing someone. I am a fool for not reading what is really going on with Kane since his chopper crashed. He’s been freaking out since then, but doing it quietly and to himself, not loud and in my face, as I did him.
And I know why.
He crashed into the ocean and a sea of bad history. My mother died in a plane crash, and his mother died in a car accident. The only difference between the two was my mother’s crash was called an accident. His mother’s death was claimed by a cartel enemy. Kane is letting the past get in his head, letting himself believe history will repeat itself and that I’m the next victim.
I step into him and grab the lapels of his suit. “I’m not her.”
His eyes narrow. “What does that mean?” he asks tightly. “You’re not her?”
“Your mother. I’m not going to die on you. I have the benefit of knowing what happened to both our parents. It’s my armor, Kane. I know to watch my back, and I don’t die easily.”
“Neither do I, Lilah, and with the same knowledge as armor, I still ended up in the middle of the ocean.”
In other words, I’m not wrong about where his head is at right now, or these past few weeks. But I never get the chance to say more. Obviously done with this conversation, he says, “We need to leave,” and lifts a hand, much like Miguel had. In apparent response, there’s a whistle somewhere behind me. Kit and Jay appear to our left, and almost instantly a black SUV races toward us and halts by our sides. “Let’s go,” Kane orders, catching my arm and attempting to haul me with him.
I plant my feet. “Because if I leave now, he won’t come at me again? Staying here and walking back into that party tells him that we don’t give two fucks about his nonsense. It’s the stronger move. It’s not like you not to make the stronger move, Kane.”
“Why do you always have to fight me, woman? Hisnonsenseis not what I’m worried about, Lilah. He’s emboldened in a way Miguel is never emboldened. He’s working with someone else.”
“I’ve been saying that since your chopper went down.”
“And now we’re in agreement,” he concludes.
“Yes, but for once I’m not going to point the finger at Pocher. Miguel all but admitted he tried to kill my father. Pocher wants my father alive. He’s his political titan.”
“TheSocietywants him alive,” he says. “Your father is walking all over Pocher, and Pocher doesn’t like to be beneath anyone’s foot. Let’s have this conversation elsewhere.”
“He can’t afford to lose my father’s political standing.”
“Pocher will do anything to protect himself,” he reminds me. “Think about it. If your father would have died tonight, and done so with Pocher by his side, no one, especially the Society, would suspect he had anything to do with it.”
“Then we’re back to my initial conclusion. Pocher and Miguel are working together.”
“While I didn’t believe Pocher would align himself as such,” Kane replies, “after seeing him with your father tonight, I changed my mind. Yes, I believe Pocher and Miguel are working together.”
“All you’re doing is making me wish I killed Miguel when I had the chance.” I hold up a hand. “I know. Not until your man is ready to replace him, so you don’t have to. You don’t have to put that on repeat, Kane. I know.”
“And yet, you had a knife in your hand, Lilah.”
In this case, it’s not what he just said to me that’s a problem, but what he didn’t say. Which is that he never knows what will happen when I have a knife in my hand. He’s not wrong.
I might have missed Miguel’s balls and hit his heart.
I can’t be sorry about that, but none of this tells the whole story. Kane is still not acting like Kane.
I narrow my eyes on him, “If you think it’s Pocher working with Miguel, why are you not inside right now?”
“Because you have a knife in your bra, Lilah.”
“I had a knife in my purse when we walked in the door.”
