by Emilia Finn
Nodding, he stacks sugar packets in a precarious pile. “When a man goes undercover, especially as deep as Kane and Jay were, where their whole lives before the case are erased and in its place is a new identity, a new history, things can get… weird. They were on this case for a year and a half. A year and a half of being these new people. After a while, a guy might believe he is that person.”
“He wasn’t that person.”
“You’d be surprised how much of what you knew was true. When we go under, we’re forced to create a new truth. We practice tics, gaits, habits. After a while, it becomes real. I knew the real Kane. The fake Kane had a different walk. He kinda twisted his foot a little. He wrote with his left hand. He chewed a toothpick almost always.”
I frown. “I never saw a toothpick. He was right handed when I saw him sign the check here.”
He grins. “I know. So eighteen months of practicing these new habits, and around you, he reverted to the real Kane. He was able to switch it on and off, because bet your tiny tush, back in the club, he was walking the fake way, he was chewing a toothpick, and he was holding a gun in his left hand.”
I have nothing to say to that. I simply try to picture this other version of Kane. They’re not huge differences. Not life changing or something that affects me at all. But still, I don’t see it. Every time he touched his dick, it was with his right hand. Every time he touched my neck, it was with his right hand.
His mouth was never filled with toothpicks, because that would hamper his ability to lick me. There’s no way he’d have that barrier there if he didn’t have to.
“Anyway. When an agent goes under, especially when something tragic happens during the case…” He waits for my eyes to come back to his. “Something tragic like your little brother dying in the line, all agents on the case are pulled back.”
“His brother died?” Brand-new tears escape my eyes. “Jay? The brother is Jay? Our ghost.”
“Yes. Jay. He died in that club. So once Abel was out and that place was collapsing, as Kane’s handler, it was my job to pull our agents back.”
“That’s why I haven’t seen you around.”
He laughs. “You been looking for me, girlie? I knew you liked me.”
“I maybe went back to his apartment a few,” hundred, “times in the last few months. You didn’t answer your door.”
“You went to the shitty side of town to knock on the door of a man you don’t know? A man strong enough to carry Bishop’s heavy ass up a flight of stairs.” He shakes his head. “Fuckin’ danger magnet. Don’t do that shit again, Jess. It’s dangerous.”
“Oh, heavens above.” White faced, Dolly clutches at her chest and ruins her ‘I’m not watching, I’m minding my own business’ act.
I shrug. “I’ve got my bodyguard there. And my gun. And Spence’s ‘we’re all going to war tomorrow so you better be ready’ training. I was fine. In fact, I didn’t feel unsafe at all. I think I’ve maybe become immune to danger.”
“Immune? No.” He scoffs like the sugar packets offend him. Or maybe it’s me that offends him. “Stupid? Yup.”
Annoyed, I turn back to my milkshake. “Whatever. I didn’t invite you to sit down, so, ya know, if you were planning to move along…”
“Oh, for god’s sake.” Dolly stands in front of us with a sour expression. “Boy, you’re taking too damn long with this story. Shake your ass!”
“Woman, I’m trying to prepare her, but she keeps derailing me with dumb shit!”
“Prepare?” She scoffs. “She’s a damn machine. She’ll be fine. Baby girl, don’t freak out, okay?”
“I–”
“Make your move, boy, or I’ll kill you myself.”
Heat pulses at my back, then a strong hand wraps around the back of my neck until his thumb presses where a tiny silvered scar used to be. It’s gone now. It was such a thin line. So insignificant that it disappeared within weeks of Kane’s death. I sobbed all over again when I realized it was gone.
“Blondie.” His deep voice, tender and rough in one, slides through my ears and lances straight into my heart. “Don’t freak out. Just relax a second.”
I freak. I spin. And when I come eye-to-eye with a glittery black stare, I burst into tears and collapse against his strong chest.
Too weak to fight it, too tired to beat back my official slide into insanity, I clutch at the enigma in front of me and pray I don’t wake any time soon.
I’m asleep.
It’s not real.
But he feels so real.
He smells so real.
Hunching, he buries his face in my neck and peppers kisses along my skin. “It’s okay, Jessie. It’s okay. Don’t cry.”
“You died.”
“I’m right here, beautiful. I’m so sorry. I’m sorry for hurting you.”
“You’re haunting me. You won’t let me go!”
“No, I won’t let you go. I won’t let you fall. You’re mine.”
“It hurts.” Howling, I scrunch his shirt in my fists and headbutt his collarbone until my hat flips off. “You’re not here. You’re teasing because I fell asleep with your file.”
“No, Blondie. I’m right here. I promise I’m here. And I do love you. I know you think I didn’t say it before, so you think I don’t love you back. I do. I promise I do. I promise my heart to you.”
“You died. I saw you. I saw you in the club. I felt the bullets hit your back. I felt them. Then the…” It hurts too much to remember. “The other one. The one that…” Killed you. “It got my arm.” I wildly swing my now healed arm up to show him. “It got you, then it got me. And now you’re gone and you’re haunting me.”
“No, beautiful.” He kisses my arm. “I’m not haunting you. I’m right here.”
“I saw you!” I let anger overtake the grief. I let it fuel me. Pushing off his chest, I stare right into the eyes I saw die in a fiery club. “I saw you! You looked right at me.” Snot dribbles along my lips. I’m a mess, but I’ve officially stepped over the edge and I don’t care. “I’m so angry at you! You left me and now I’m angry.”
“I’m back, Jessie. I promise I’m back.”
“Your eyes! I saw your fucking eyes, Kane! Why won’t you leave me alone? Why can’t I stop hurting?”
“You saw Jay’s eyes.” He pulls my face up and presses noisy kisses to my forehead. “Jay saved you. Not me.”
“No! You did.” Struggling to catch my breath, I press my face to his chest. “It was you. Your eyes. I know your eyes because I’m in love with them. They were yours.”
“I love you, Jess. I love you with my whole heart. I promise I’m back. This isn’t a dream, this is real, and I promise to help you heal now. I promise to make it better.”
“It can’t get better! It can’t, because you died and you’ve been gone. I smiled today for the first time since you left, and now you’re punishing me. The universe won’t let me be happy.”
“Not punish, baby. Never ever. I’m here to love you. I had to go away. I had to finish what I was doing, and I had to make it safe for you. Jay saved you, baby. My little brother did what I couldn’t. I was with Abel, and you needed help. He was so sick and sad, but he came back and he helped me. Then Cap pulled me in. There were investigations, and Jay’s memorial. I had to work, to make sure Abel’s shit was fully dismantled, because if it wasn’t, you wouldn’t be safe. But it’s all done now. Hey.” He drags my eyes up, and finally, I look at the man in front of me.
Heavy jeans. Combat boots. A faded lime green shirt with an old Indian motorbike on the front. His chest, so broad and strong. Way broader than Eric’s. Way broader than I remember. The tattoos that I studied during our time together with as much intensity as I’ve studied for my degree. The eagle on his throat, so free and proud. Then his jaw. Strong and square. His nose, bent a little bit.
His eyes… alive. Watchful.
Then that wrinkle in his brow. That single wrinkle that’s ruined me for life.
“Oh my God.�
� I bury my face against his chest. He smells like him. He smells like my heartbreak. “No. It hurts.”
“Come on.” Picking me up the way he did in the alleyway – my arms around his neck, my legs around his hips, his hands under my ass – the familiarity only worsens my pain as he carries me out of the diner and toward a new truck. Different to the one he had before.
Opening the door one handed, he tosses my bag in, then helps me slide along the smooth leather bench seat. Instead of putting me in the passenger side, he puts me in the driver’s side and helps me scooch across. Climbing in beside me, he pulls me back against his side and starts up the rumbling truck.
Like my life is on repeat, I’m sucked back into the vacuum, the truck, the freeway, his strong hand massaging the back of my neck, his nose constantly dropping to the top of my head like he missed me even half as much as I missed him. The pine trees lining the long and windy road. The ‘welcome to town’ sign. Street lights. Street signs. He doesn’t take me to his apartment like last time. Instead, he takes me to a residential street. A typical middle-class family home with little daisies in the garden and a rusting white mailbox.
The truck switches off. The door opens. He pulls me into his arms. Just one single set of steps to get to the front door, then a single flight to get to the bedrooms.
He carries me up and gently lays me on the same bedspread I lay on forever ago. Kicking his boots off, then taking my heels, he stops and stares at them. At the red bottoms.
Lifting a daring brow, the wrinkle in his forehead pops. “Louboutin. Really, Blondie? I know how much these cost.”
“They were a gift.”
“Mmhm.”
Unsnapping his belt, he pulls it from his jeans and makes sure to pass it to me so my teeth marks appear right beside my thumb. Still in my fog of disbelief, I allow him to unsnap my jeans and tug them down my legs. He brings me up to sit on my butt, then pulls my top over my head and drags the elastic from my hair.
Pulling the cover down the bed the way he did so long ago, he picks me up when we’re both wearing nothing but our underwear, and tucking me into the scoop of his body, he strokes my scarred ribs and kisses the back of my neck.
This isn’t such a bad dream anymore.
It’s better than a lot of others I’ve had.
“I promise I’m here, Jess. I promise I love you, and I’ll never leave you again. I swear I won’t. I’m gonna get a different job. A safe job with one of your friends. I’m gonna stay with you forever.”
“I don’t believe you.”
“I’ll prove it. If you’ll have me, I’ll stay forever.”
“I’m still dreaming, and I’m so mad this is a dream.” Tears slide over the bridge of my nose and dribble onto my pillow. He has two pillows, and that’s wrong. My dream is inconsistent with reality. “It’s a good dream, and I hate it for not being real.”
“Are you still mine, Jessie? Do you still love me?”
I clamp my lips shut and nod.
“You didn’t think good riddance when I went away?”
I shake my head.
“I came back for you, Jess. I’ll always come back for you.”
Epilogue
I’m not sure Jess believed she was truly awake for weeks after my reentry back into her life. Not when I whispered my promises to her while she cried that night. Not when I continued whispering my promises while she slept. Not when I woke her up and kissed her until she opened herself up to me. Not when I slid inside, and not when I brought us both to peak and swore my love again and again.
The next morning, she looked at me like I was a wild animal. And worse; a total stranger. She kept her distance, so it was like I had to start all over again.
A man meeting a woman under normal circumstances. A man trying to convince the woman that although he looks like a thug, he’s truly a good person inside.
That he’s worthy.
And really, that’s what this is. A man meeting a woman. He’s already in love with her before the first date, but that’s okay.
I’m living on borrowed time, and so is she. Life is precious, and I vow to not waste a second of it. I have a lot of work to do: a woman to convince we need a lifetime together, a company to start, a brother to grieve, and a life to live.
“Are you sure about this?” Stopping in my upstairs bedroom two full weeks after I stepped back into her life, Jess has declared she’s ready to share again. We’ve had two weeks of living in my room in the house I sort of shared with Jay and Eric while we worked. Two weeks of not allowing any outside interference. No work. No family. No Eric. Just the two of us.
Two weeks of her staring at me with narrowed eyes, like she didn’t trust me to stay put. She was willing to sleep in my room, in my bed, but she wasn’t ready to accept I was truly back.
Her family have called every day. Five times a day. There’s no way they would let her escape so easily; and although she took their calls, though Alex checked in, and Eric ran interference and promised she was okay, Jess refused to go home.
She wasn’t ready to share.
And neither was I.
I spent months without her, too.
I spent months living only on reports from Eric. He was with me half the time. The rest, he was here watching. He told me of her Monday night practices at the shooting range.
He told me of the amount of time she sat at Paddy’s truck stop and wept in Dolly’s arms.
He told me of the hours she spent sitting at the lake staring at the stars. And when he told me that, I made a habit of sitting outside at night so I could stare at the stars, too.
I had an unfair advantage. I knew where she was and I knew she was safe.
She thought I was dead.
That’s unforgivable, but I was under orders. Orders I could no longer obey, so I handed my badge and gun back in and told them I was out.
Eric never thought I’d pull the plug. He thought I was venting, but by the fourth month of not being released from the program and told my life here was done, I handed my badge in and went back to civilian life.
Now I truly am an unemployed bum, but I have a plan. I have a woman to support for the rest of our lives, so if my plan doesn’t work out, I’ll bag those groceries and make do.
I step forward and pull her into my arms. She’s in those expensive as fuck heels, so she’s easy to pull off balance. I’m pretty sure she still has moments where she doesn’t believe I’m real, so I press my lips over hers and kiss until she turns weak in my arms.
When she can’t breathe, when she turns dizzy, I let her go and grin at her glazed eyes. “Am I sure I want to meet your family? Definitely. Are you sure you wanna take the criminal home?”
“Former criminal.” Chewing on her bottom lip, she drops her eyes in shyness. The Jess I knew before the fire at Infernos was never shy. She’s different. She lived through life changing shit, so she’s allowed to be different, but where it counts, right in her soul, she’s the same woman I fell in love with. “I’m sure. I miss my family, but I’m not willing to drive away from here without you. I don’t believe you’ll be here when I get back. So you come with me.”
“Well, while I’m happy to cuff myself to you for life, I also promise to be here when you get back. So you can go without me if you want. Your family deserves Jessie time, too.”
She shakes her head and turns on her sexy heels. Showing me her ass, she drags me from the room. “I want you to come. My family better meet the guy I’m gonna marry. They have to get used to the ink and stuff.”
My stomach flips with nerves. Not bad nerves. Just… life changing nerves. “You gonna marry me, Blondie?”
“Uh-huh. I’m not giving you up, so…”
“You don’t think you should wait for me to ask? Tradition and all that?”
“I don’t have time for tradition.” Moving down the hall, she slams her fist on the second bedroom door. “Eric, move your ass. We’re gonna be late.” She turns to me at the top of the stairs. “You c
an ask. You can do whatever you want. If you wanna buy a pretty dress so you can feel like a princess on your big day, I won’t stop you. But I just want the contract. The rest is fluff.”
“The contract.” Laughing, I move faster so I’m beside her, rather than being dragged from behind. Throwing my arm over her shoulder without releasing her hand, I pull her in close and kiss her temple. “I’ll marry you, Blondie.”
“Wait.” Stopping at the bottom of the stairs, she hardly stumbles as I come to a screeching stop. “How much of Kane Bishop was fake?”
My lips twitch. “What do you mean?”
“Is your birthday still your birthday?”
“Yes.” I grin. “Two days after yours.”
She returns my smile. “Is your name really Kane? Is it really Allan or Alexander or Alejandro or something? Is that why you put Al in my phone?”
“Ah…” I clear my throat with faux nerves. “Kane’s kinda a badass name, right? I took liberties, since my real name is kinda dorky.”
Her eyes narrow. “What’s your real name?”
“Maybe Al is for Albert.”
Biting her lips closed, her eyes grow wide. “Umm…”
“Like, I know Albert isn’t super badass, but, you know. I was a baby. I didn’t get a choice.”
“Albert.” Her perfectly shaped brow pops. “Um. Albert… What’s your last name?”
“Limpick.” I work to contain my grin. “The third.”
“Albert Limpick… the third.”
“Are you sure you still wanna marry me? Limpick would be your last name, too.”
“Limpick… like limp dick?”
“Jessica! Show some fuckin’ respect! Your firstborn son will be Albert Limpick the fourth.”
“Oh my God.” Her face burns red. “Kane… I dunno.”
“Albert.” I lean forward and drop a kiss on her stunned lips. “Better get used to saying it.”
Slamming his door closed, Eric skips down the stairs and smacks me on the back of the head. “His name’s Kane Bishop. Has been since his mama pushed him outta her snatch. Albert is a lame name, so stop teasing her.”
