by Daisy Allen
He slides down onto the floor and pulls me down with him, cradling my head on his shoulder, smiling at me.
I reach out, my fingers approaching the left side of his face and he flinches and pulls away.
“Shhhhhh,” I coo, even though he hasn’t said anything. But he knows what I mean. He moves his head closer to me, and nods. I reach out again, slowly, and he closes his eyes.
My fingertips touch the side of his temple, tentative. And I pull back. Letting him adjust.
Then I lower my fingers to his cheek again, tracing the bumpy, jagged lines of his scar. His eyelashes flutter against his cheek and there’s a furrow of his brow, as if he’s imagining the journey my fingers are taking. One he’s taken himself a hundred thousand times. The scar is soft, giving under my touch. I reach the bottom of his jaw, where the jagged skin gives way once more to the smooth lines of his neck.
I move closer and press a kiss to his cheek, and he sighs and opens his eyes.
“My whole family died in a fire when I was nine years old. I was the only one who survived. My mother, my father, and my little sister Gillian. She was five. I was in a coma for two weeks, partly from a severe concussion caused by a part of the ceiling falling on my head just as I was running over to where I thought the rest of my family were. Where they died. I don’t remember it, but I have dreams of it. When I woke up, I’d missed the funeral. I had no one. And no one wanted me.”
I can’t even comprehend the horror of his words. To lose everyone, in that way. At such an age. And then to be completely alone.
I don’t say anything, I can feel more coming.
“My grandparents weren’t well enough to take me and no other family members cared enough to try. I was in the foster system until I was 15. I would say that it was worse than my whole family dying in the fire, but of course nothing can beat that. But it was close.”
“Only 15? Is that when you were working at that paper mill factory in Brooklyn?”
“When I told you I bought that building, I wasn’t telling you everything.”
“The owner? Neil Thompson. He adopted me.”
“I met him through a big brother program and he let me work there, to keep me out of trouble. He found me sleeping behind the wooden piles one day and realized I wasn’t going to school. He said I could continue to work there every afternoon, as long as I provided proof that I’d gone to school that day. By the time I was 18, I was managing the factory. He took me in, clothed me, fed me, taught me. Loved me. The day before I turned 18, Neil legally adopted me. I have two fathers who gave me life.”
“Where is he now?”
“He died from a sudden heart attack when I was 20.”
“Oh my god, Kaine.”
“He left me everything.”
“He didn’t have any family?”
“He has a younger brother, Jacob. They were estranged. Jacob is not a good man and Neil spent most of his life covering for him and bailing him out. But he wouldn’t let Jacob near his company or money. Jacob isn’t thrilled I inherited everything, even though I’ve set him up with a trust fund. He’s gotten more than he ever would have if Neil were still alive.”
“Do you see him?”
“Only now and then when he wants something. He’s greedy but relatively harmless. That is, until now.”
“Why, what happened?”
“It’s... nothing. Just work stuff.”
“Kaine.” I say, a warning tone in my voice, and he lays back down and gives me a sheepish look.
“Sorry. Force of habit. You know my new product?”
“Of course.”
“Well, I’ve been getting threatening letters and packages.”
“Kaine! What are they threatening?”
“That’s just it, I don’t know. I don’t know if they’re threatening to launch the same product or just want to sabotage ours. I don’t know anything.”
He runs his hand through his hair, his agitation, his frustration clear on his face.
“Oh my God, can they do that?”
He shrugs, “I don’t know. I don’t know what they have. It could be a hoax, but from what I’ve seen, it’s not.”
“So, what do they want? Are they blackmailing you?”
“Strangely enough, no. They haven’t asked for anything, just seem to be taunting me.”
“You think it’s Jacob?”
“He’s the most likely suspect. But. Dylan... er, I have some people looking into it.”
I smile. “You can say his name. I might stab him in the eye with a fork if I ever meet him, but you can say his name.”
I settle back down and in his arms.
“Jade, you know everything that’s important to me. You might know the past now, but you’re what’s important. My future.”
“I believe you, Kaine.”
***
Kaine comes with me when Henry drives me back to work. His hand never leaves mine in the car even when he helps me out of it. My fingers entangle with his, making me dizzy with something that is deeper than joy. I’m enveloped by a warming, grounding sense of contentment.
“What’s going on?” Kaine asks me as we walk towards the entrance. There’s a crowd of library staff and some people I recognize as regulars standing near the alleyway.
“Harriet!” I call out, seeing my friend leaning against the wall, looking bored without her phone in her hand.
“Yay! Jade!” she says, her face brightening into a smile as she runs over to me. “And Myst-, er Kaine. Hi, Kaine,” she corrects herself, catching my glare.
Kaine laughs, “Hello, Harriet. What’s going on here?”
“Oh, false fire alarm. One of the smoke alarms wouldn’t stop beeping so they kicked us all out to take care of it.”
I quickly glance at Kaine who immediately reverts to work mode. “Oh? Who’s in charge of that?”
“Like who’s the fire warden?”
“No, I mean, never mind. Is Harold around?”
“Er, yeah, somewhere. I think he was talking to the hot firemen dudes.”
“Okay, I’ll go look. You stay here.”
“What was that?” Harriet turns to me.
“I dunno,” I shrug. “He owns, among other things, a company devoted to fire safety. I guess it’s like his version of porn seeing firemen here.”
“Speaking of porn...” Harriet starts.
“We weren’t really,” I cut her off before she takes the conversation in a direction I’m not prepared to go.
“Speaking of porn... why’s your hair all... like that, and where’s the scarf you were wearing this morning... and ohmygod you just had a booty call.”
“Shush.”
***
“I’m here from Ash Industries.”
I look up from my perch on the counter the next day, half expecting to see Kaine.
But it’s definitely not Kaine, unless Kaine has taken to not shaving and wearing a dangling emerald earring in his left ear.
“Um, okay. What can I do for you?”
“I’m here to take care of the installations,” earring man tells me.
“What installations?”
“The installations Mr. Ashley specifically ordered yesterday.”
“Um, okay. You’re going to need to talk to my manager.” I turn and walk to Harold’s office. “Er, Harold? Something about installations from Kaine’s company?”
“Oh. Great! Send them in.”
“They’re in.” I follow Harold out of his office. “What’s going on?”
“Well, Kaine came to talk to me yesterday about the smoke alarm situation thing. Then he told me about this new product his company’s launching and he offered to outfit our building with the new smoke alarms. We wouldn’t have to pay for it, some sort of deal thing subsidized by his company and the city. Whatever. And as a return favour, we’re letting his company hold the launch of their new product at the library next week.”
“Oh. That’s sounds like a great idea.”
&nb
sp; “Good, because you’ll be in charge of the function,” Harold informs me.
“What?”
“It’ll be great publicity for the library. Everyone’s still following your story, and now there’s a happy ending.”
I groan.
The last thing I want is MORE publicity.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
HIM
The next week passes in a blur.
My days are filled with preparing for the launch.
My nights are filled with Jade.
And I sleep.
The deep, deep sleep of the exhausted and the content.
Sometimes I wake in the middle of the night, and she has turned towards me, her face peaceful in sleep, the silver glaze of the moonlight through the windows framing her body, covered in the soft silk of her nightie. She is rarely covered by the bedsheet, kicking them off mere minutes after she’s fallen asleep, her body constantly running hot. She looks just like a sleeping angel. A guardian angel. Mine.
Our routine doesn’t change; my mornings start right, with her happily jabbering away in the car as I ride with her to work, one ear on her chatter, one eye on my email.
Most nights are spent enjoying food and making love. But some nights I’m stuck at the office and she’ll come to visit, bringing dinner for everyone, asking insightful questions and giving her own opinion without fear, sometimes to the sounds of agreement, sometimes to laughter. But she gives it fiercely nonetheless.
And I just sit back and watch.
I hope my life is like this forever.
***
I know you’re busy but please call me ASAP
Jade’s text message catches me by surprise during an early morning meeting. I’ve just left her side barely an hour ago, what could she need?
I’m in a meeting, sweet. What’s so important? I text back, trying to stay focused on what’s being discussed.
It’s barely a minute before the phone vibrates again on the table. It’s a picture message this time. I open it and my blood runs cold.
The text contains two pictures. One of the same white envelope that I’ve received three times now.
This time, it’s addressed to Jade.
Inside, an embossed card.
This time there’s a time.
“One week” in black ink and underneath, the words, “I do so hope you can make it, Jade.”
Signed J.
The same J.
I push myself away from the table and speed dial her number even before I’ve reached the reception area.
“Kaine?” she answers right away, an edge to her voice that gets my hackles up.
“It’s me, Jade. Are you okay?” her well-being the most important thing to me these days.
“Yeah, I’m fine. Just... is, is this what I think it is?” she asks, referring to the other envelopes she knows I’ve received.
I don’t want to worry her. But I can’t lie to her. “I think so. Where did you find it?”
“It was sitting in the return book bin. It looked so fancy, Harriet thought it was from you, so she put it on my desk.”
“So, someone had to have put it there. It wasn’t delivered by post,” I reason.
“No. They were here,” she says, her voice shaking.
“Do you know who might have put it there?”
“No. And we don’t have security cameras here. It was pretty busy last night, being our genealogy group night. So, lots of people were walking around.”
Whoever it was knows about me and Jade and was near her. I want to kill him. I’m almost afraid I will.
“Is there anything else?” I ask.
“No, just what I showed you. What does it mean?”
“I don’t know, honey. I don’t know,” I admit. And it kills me not to be able to ease her fears.
“What’s going on?”
“I wish I knew, sweetheart. But I’m going to find out. Don’t worry.”
“Okay.”
“Hey. I mean it, don’t worry,” I try to comfort her.
“I just... I just want your launch to go well.”
“It will. What are your plans for lunch?”
There’s a relaxed sigh on the line and I can see her smiling at my obvious attempt to cheer her up with the talk of food.
“We’re all going out for lunch, to celebrate our new smoke alarms.”
“Oh, they’re all installed? I hadn’t heard an update yet.”
“Yep, all done yesterday, so we can actually close up for about an hour today and grab a quick drink next door to celebrate not turning into roast humans.”
“That sounds great. Have a drink for me.
“I will.”
“I have to get back to my meeting.”
“Okay. Kaine? I love you.”
And for a split second, everything is okay.
***
“It’s not Jacob.” Xavier breaks the news to me.
“Shit. I don’t know if that’s a relief or if it’s disappointing, because then we’re back at square one.”
“I don’t know about that. Jacob? We might’ve been able to deal with him.”
“How do you know it wasn’t him?”
“Because he’s in Atlantic City losing his monthly allowance on cheap hookers.”
“Shit. The one time I thought I could rely on the asshole being Jacob and he doesn’t come through.”
“Yeah. No kidding.”
“What now?”
“I’ve got eyes on the library. And Jade,” Xavier tells me.
“Shit. I better tell her.”
“Why?”
“Don’t ask. Just. Fuck, find out, who it is. We have seven days till launch. I’m going to be on edge the whole time.”
“Yes, boss.”
***
“And to all of the spouses and boyfriends and girlfriends who have not left you, for working late the last 18 months, this is to you!” Thomas, head of my special projects department declares, raising his champagne glass to the sounds of “hear, hear!” from the crowd.
“And now, I’d like to pass you onto our most esteemed employer and brains of this whole outfit, Mr. Kaine Ashley.” He does a dramatic bow and gestures to me.
I can’t help but laugh. On the eve of our launch, we’ve gathered the entire staff into the lobby after hours to celebrate our achievement. Because it is ours, my employees are the heart of this place. I might have a mission, but they share it through and through.
“Um,” I start, trying not to fidget with my collar or pull my hoodie up. “Firstly, thank you, Tommy. For your eloquence as usual.”
There’s a smattering of laughter and Tommy winks and grins at me.
“This was, is, a labour of love. Not just for me, but for you all. I know this. Borne of a dream for a future free of fires that kill thousands of people a year. It’s not for a few, for the rich, for the privileged. This is for everyone. Let’s make homes safer for everyone. You guys did this. With your heart, your hard work, your dedication to ASH Industries, to the project and to the community. This is your legacy! To you! Zero House Fire Deaths by 2020!”
Everyone raises their glasses and there’s the sound of clinking as we toast each other.
I look around and I’m proud of every smiling face I see.
And of myself.
“Now let’s get wasted!” Xavier yells to the delight of everyone.
I put down my glass as I watch everyone disperse and mingle. A flurry of waiters appears with trays of drinks and finger food. The sound of happy chatter washes over me as I sit back and watch.
Xavier pulls up a chair and sinks into it next to me.
“Good night,” he says, nodding as he looks out at the happy employees. “You did good.”
“You mean the party?”
“No, I mean the... not...” he gestures to my hoodie. “I think it’s the first time I’ve seen you not wearing it in a crowd.”
“They’re my people,” I shrug.
“They were y
our people a month ago.”
“What are you trying to say?” I play dumb, seeing if he’ll dare to call me on it.
“Just that there is one more person, who is your person, who wasn’t around a month ago. That might have made the difference.”
“Maybe.”
“Lucky S.O.B.” He nudges me with his elbow and takes a long sip from his drink.
“Aw, don’t be jealous, maybe we can find you a special person type person.”
“You know that can’t happen... not until...” he says, voice dropping, smile slipping off his face.
“I know that’s what you think, but you’re wrong. I thought the same as well. That I had to wait, until I’d redeemed myself, or exacted vengeance, in your case. But you’re wrong. Life goes on.”
He gets up and looks at me, the sadness flickering through his eyes for just a second. “I’m glad you believe that. Like I said, you’re a lucky S.O.B.”
***
It’s past midnight before the party winds up.
Almost done. I message Jade, letting her know I’ll be home soon.
“One for the road?” Jemima comes up to me, handing me another champagne glass.
“Huh. I probably shouldn’t, need to stay sharp for tomorrow.”
“That’s tomorrow’s problem, boss. You deserve this. Go on.”
I take the glass, mostly to be polite, and take a sip. It’s my fifth or sixth glass for the night, I can’t remember. More than I usually drink, though, that’s for sure.
“Are you happy with how it turned out?”
“Yes, you did a good job with organising it, thank you, Jemima.”
“My pleasure,” she smiles and moves her chair closer to me. “We work well together.”
I just nod and take another sip from my glass. I’m tired. The last few days have taken their toll and I can’t wait to get home to Jade. My safety, my sanctuary.
“It’s almost like we’re on the same wavelength, don’t you think?” Jemima continues.
“Well, I think you have done pretty well at knowing how to do things the way I like.”
“Yeah, but I’m willing to do so much more. And I promise you’ll love it.” She reaches over and puts her hand on my thigh.
“Um, Jemima.” I move away, but she just follows, pressing her body up against mine.
“Kaine,” she says my name in a purr and runs her finger down my chest. I catch it and gently push it away. “Don’t fight this. Just give in,” she urges me.
