Page 42 of Kane
“No. I was too busy feeling sorry for myself to visit her.” She rubbed at the tension in her forehead. “Too wrapped up in my own misery to let myself be around anyone happy.” She squeezed her eyes shut to block out his stunned expression. “I wasted so much time.”
His hand touched hers on the table, and her eyes flew open. Just as quickly, his touch disappeared, but her skin tingled where the rough pads of his fingers had been.
She swallowed. “There was ice on the pavement. Crazy for February around here, but there it was. Charlie and Mom spun off the road and hit a tree.” She reached for the numbness, the dead emptiness that kept her going when the hurt threatened to consume her. “They had to cut Josh out of her body. He was the only one who survived.”
This time when Kane took her hand, he held it with both of his. It stole her breath.
She forced in a gulp of air and kept talking. “It made sense for Mike and Cindy to take him. They were getting married anyway, and I was such a fucking disaster, I could barely dress myself, much less take care of a baby.” Her chest knotted with his hands around hers. So much for staying numb.
Such a small thing, his touch, but it shook her to the foundation.
With her other hand, she pushed forward her final piece of evidence. A laminated clipping of her mother’s obituary. She couldn’t remember who gave it to her, but she’d never had the heart to get rid of it. “It says right there,survived by her three children, Michael, Amanda, and Joshua.I’m sure you could find another copy somewhere if you still don’t believe me.”
His slow blink and barely there nod projected patience. Comfort. It almost hurt more than the hate he’d radiated when she walked through the door. Hate was easier. In hate, there was no hope, and hope was the cruelest lie that ever existed.
“I believe you.” With his gravelly voice and simple words, everyone else in the restaurant fell away. Kane was the center of the universe. His warm hands and the look on his face she hadn’t seen in years. The look that saidI see you.
You matter.
This is real.
It didn’t make a difference how many years had passed or whether his looks had changed. Behind the long hair—beneath the beard and the tiny lines on his face he didn’t have before—she recognized the man who set the bar for every poor bastard who came into her life or her bed after he left it. No one else had ever come close.
No one else ever would.
“I’m sorry I accused you.” He squeezed her hand.
Her small laugh rang hollow as she pulled away. She couldn’t think straight while he was touching her, and she needed to keep her wits. Unwrapping the straw next to the drink in front of her, she used it to stir the ice in the light brown liquid.
An Arnold Palmer. She hadn’t had one in years. The iced tea-lemonade mix used to be her favorite.
“You don’t owe me an apology, Kane. We both know it.” She sipped at the sweet and tart drink, then forced her gaze back to his face. “I’m the one who’s sorry. I’m sorry I was so awful you could believe me capable of keeping a child from you. I’m sorry I hurt you. And I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you the truth then, and I still can’t tell you now.”
His eyes widened, and she knew instantly she’d said too much.
She shot to her feet. “You deserved better thirteen years ago, and you deserve better than how you’re living now. It’s not too late to have the life you wanted.” Forcing herself to look away from those soulful brown eyes, she turned and approached the door.
She was almost through the crowd when his strangled voice carried to her ears. “The only life I ever wanted was one I could live with you.”
Gritting her teeth, she fought the overwhelming urge to look back and kept moving out of the restaurant into the cold December sunlight. Nothing had changed. Her father’s threat still hung over her like a scythe. Only now, the small flame of hope she’d been nursing inside her was a fire she wasn’t sure she could ever put out.
***
Kane
Hours after his conversation with Mandy, Kane’s head still reeled. It was crazy stupid to let his attention drift from the job in front of him, but his body still fucking hummed from the touch of her skin and the sincerity of her words. It had been the first real exchange they’d had in more than a decade.
Cue Ball dug his heel into the top of Kane’s foot.
The steel-toed boots protected him from most hazards, but Cue was a big man, and his weight was tough to ignore…which was probably the point.
He forced himself to focus on the exchange at hand. Cue Ball was holding court with two teenaged boys, one with light brown skin, the other slightly darker. Both wore T-shirts and jeans sagging halfway off their asses. They were recruits to help push the club’s new products.
“Twenty bucks for a rock, boys. I’m giving you a dozen to start out with.” Cue dropped a brown lunch bag into the hand of the taller teenager. He’d rolled down the top, creating a makeshift handle. “I know where you live.” He leaned into the boy’s face. “This is a trial run. Don’t even think about trying to fuck me, got it?”
Kane had to give the kid credit. He didn’t so much as flinch at Cue Ball’s threat. “Yeah. I got you.” Bag gripped in his hand, the teen led his friend back to the two bicycles leaning against the park bench.
The pink cast of dusk made the nearly empty field look a little less than the neglected lot it was. By day, it was easier to spot the mountain of cigarette butts next to the overflowing trash can or the rust creeping over the rickety see-saw. But among the warm colors of the diminishing light, the park looked almost inviting.