Flash Point

by Brooke Blaine

  And now he wanted a taste.

  But just as he sat on his knees and bent down to swipe his tongue over her, the sound of a creaking door and footsteps had them jolting apart, moving to opposite ends of the couch and putting their clothes back in order.

  Seconds later, Kirkpatrick came trudging into view, his short hair wild and untamed, and his eyes half-awake. He yawned, and when he noticed them, said, “Hey, guys. So tired but I keep waking up. Mind if I watch TV until I pass out again?”

  And with that, the night was over already.

  Katherine’s eyes were filled with disappointment as she looked at Jason before sighing and telling Kirkpatrick, “Yes, but please turn it off this crap Jason is making me watch. You know he has no taste.”

  “Oh, I don’t know,” Jason said when Kirkpatrick’s back was turned. “I think I have pretty good taste.” Then he sucked his finger into his mouth, tasting the sweet remnants of her as she watched him, wide-eyed and wanting.

  KIRKPATRICK ENDED UP passing out in the armchair, and eventually Katherine had drifted off to bed, her body sated but her mind lingering on the feel of Jason on top of her, inside of her, stealing her breath. He’d been the last thing she saw before she fell asleep and the first when she’d awoken and dashed to the main room.

  The guys had been laughing at a movie that was playing, and when he saw her and said good morning, his face had lit up.

  They hadn’t been able to say anything more, but stole furtive glances at each other, sly smiles turning up their lips, and it eased the nervousness in her stomach that he didn’t seem to regret last night.

  When he’d tagged out for the day, she prayed that the hours until they were alone again would pass quickly. It was a Sunday, so she didn’t have much planned other than Steven’s visit later.

  Steven…

  The apprehensive feeling returned to her stomach then, as she wondered what was going on with him, flipping through every scenario in her mind and all the possible solutions that she could help with. She was anxious to have her friend back. So much had happened, and it felt strange that he didn’t know any of it. After today, would they go back to how things were? Would he want to? No matter what he said, she knew her answer wouldn’t change.

  She’d just finished pulling out a pan of blueberry muffins that morning when there was a knock at the door. Kirkpatrick didn’t seem surprised, and that had her instantly suspicious.

  “Do you know who’s here?” she asked when he got up to answer it. “Steven already?”

  “Why do you bother asking questions that will be answered in about two seconds?”

  “Are you saying I’m impatient?”

  Kirkpatrick snorted as he looked through the peephole and then reached for the handle. “That would be an understatement if I ever heard one,” he said, and opened the door.

  Thompson strolled through first, followed by—

  “What are you doing here?” she asked when her father stepped out from behind the tall man. His silver hair was parted neatly to one side, and he was in one of his signature suits today, as always. When she was younger, she’d wondered if he even owned a pair of jeans like Mr. Chambers and all the other dads of her friends. After rummaging through her parents’ closet, she came to the conclusion that if he did, they were buried somewhere she couldn’t reach.

  He was carrying a tray of coffee cups in his hands and set them on the kitchen counter before answering with a shake of his head. “That’s the first thing you want to say to me? Really, Katherine.”

  “Maybe not the first thing,” she said, her defenses going up.

  He took out each cup and checked the sides before picking one out and walking over to her. “I wanted to see you.”

  “I’m sure you came with a lecture.”

  “No, I wanted to make sure you’re all right. I know you’ve heard about the arrest by now, and…well, I wanted to check on you,” he said, holding out the coffee to her. “Is everything okay?”

  She took the cup from him and looked at the markings on the side to see what he’d ordered, ignoring his question. “How’d you know I like caramel macchiatos?”

  “A father knows these things.” Her brow went up in disbelief and he shrugged. “Garrett told me.”

  A thrill shot through her at the mention of Jason’s name.

  “Don’t you want yours?” she asked, nodding at the remaining cups.

  “Those are for the guys. I’ve never liked the stuff.” He unbuttoned his jacket and sat down in Jason’s chair, crossing his ankle over his knee, as Kirkpatrick and Thompson nodded their thanks and discreetly left the room.

  The heat of shame hit her cheeks and she lifted her drink to take a sip, trying to hide the guilt she felt at not knowing her father any better than he did her. Of course he didn’t drink coffee. She’d never seen him do that, and the only reason they’d owned a coffee machine at all when she was growing up had been for her mother’s daily two-mug fix.

  “Well, thank you for grabbing this,” she managed.

  “You’re welcome.” Looking around the room, he nodded in approval and commented, “They set you up in a nice place.”

  “Yeah, I like it.”

  “That’s good. That’s good.”

  If she didn’t know better, she would’ve said he was nervous. His fingers drummed along his ankle in a rapid beat. On second thought…

  “Are you okay?” she asked.

  His eyes were pained and there were bags under them as he gave her a smile that didn’t quite reach the corners. “I’ll be okay.”

  “They told me about the arrest. I’m assuming you weren’t there when it happened?”

  Shaking his head, he said, “No. No, I was in court.”

  “Maybe this will all be over soon,” she said, trying to remain upbeat. Something about him seemed so down, and her mind flashed back to when she and her mother were there to greet him after a rough day with hugs and kisses and long talks over dinner to lift the burden of his judgments. She missed those days.

  Taking in the deep grooves of his face that hadn’t been there before, she realized, I miss him.

  “I hope so,” he said to her comment, though it almost seemed like he’d read her mind.

  Gulping, she picked up her coffee and took a sip before changing the subject. “So…how’s the case going? The news seems to be all over it right now, but—”

  “You’ve been avoiding it,” her father finished for her. He smiled again. “I know. It’s been a bit of a media circus, which you know I’ve never been a fan of, but I’m hoping we only have a few short weeks left until they come to a decision. The biggest thing they seem to be tracking, though, is the Graham thing.”

  Her brow furrowed. “Why would they be interested in that?”

  “His time’s up,” her father told her. “He’s been on death row now for a few years, and they set his execution date for this week. His family has been working to appeal for years, but you can imagine time is of the essence right now.”

  That had to be weighing heavily on her father’s shoulders. Though he believed in justice, sentencing someone to death, no matter the crime, had never been easy, and it’d only happened twice in his term. It wasn’t easy for him to be vulnerable, to show just how deeply affected he was by his work, but she knew he had to be suffering.

  As she took in his melancholy eyes, a sharp pang shot through her heart at just how much time she’d wasted being angry. They’d always had a special relationship growing up, and she’d never intended for them to split so far apart after her mom passed, but as time went on, her resentfulness had only grown, and instead of talking to him about it, she’d shut herself off from him. It had been a defense mechanism. A way of protecting herself from the pain of losing another parent.

  But it had gone too far now. He was her dad, a man she’d always looked up to, and she was tired of pretending to hate him.

  “I’m sorry,” she said. “It’s not your fault that he did what he did. You can
only be responsible for delivering justice to pay for those crimes, to help ease the family of those he hurt.” Reaching out, she covered her father’s hand with hers. “You’re fair and honest, and you make the hard decisions others can’t. I’m proud of you, Dad.”

  Tears filled his eyes, and hers followed suit.

  It was time. Time to end the pain and hurt between them and make amends. He was her family, the only close family she had, and there was no way she could live with herself if they were still on bad terms if, God forbid, something bad happened.

  “I love you, Katherine,” he told her, squeezing her hand in his. “I love you, and I’m so sorry. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when you’ve needed me. I haven’t been a good father to you for many years now, and I regret that. So much.” He took his glasses off and wiped his eyes with one hand. “I promise I’ll make it up to you. I want to try. Can you forgive me?”

  She smiled, and a lone tear trailed down her cheek. “Yeah. Yeah, I can. I’m sorry too.”

  He pulled her off the couch and into his chair to envelop her, and she breathed in his familiar smell of aftershave and peppermint. Wrapping her arms around his neck, she squeezed him tight as more tears streamed down her face. They held each other that way for a long time, allowing the cracks in their hearts to begin the process of piecing themselves back together.

  When she pulled back, she wiped her face. “I made muffins,” she said, and he laughed at the random announcement as she stood up.

  “And what are you and Steven fighting about now?”

  “What makes you think the muffins are for him?”

  Her father shook his head as he slipped his glasses back on. “The only time you bake is when you two have gotten into a silly fight and are trying to make amends. It’s how you say ‘I’m sorry,’ kiddo. Or how you guilt an ‘I’m sorry’ out of him.”

  Thinking back on that, she said, “You know what? You’re right. I never noticed that before. I guess they’re for both of you, then.” She headed to the kitchen, feeling lighter on her feet, as she called over her shoulder, “Want one or two to start?”

  “Half is enough. I’m sure you noticed, but I’ve been eating my feelings.”

  She brought a plate out with a whole blueberry muffin—extra streusel—and handed it to him. “I think it’s more that you got a new housekeeper who keeps the fridge fully stocked. I noticed when I was there last time.”

  “I realized I couldn’t go on eating tuna sandwiches for the rest of my life, and after almost burning the house down cooking an omelet, I decided I might need a little help.”

  “Good,” she said, and took a big bite of her own muffin. “I’m glad I won’t have to worry about you wasting away.”

  He patted his stomach. “I think I’d have to starve for months before that happened.”

  Rolling her eyes, her lips curved up, and she settled down on the couch to catch up with her dad. It felt like the past few years of distance was melting between them. Their bodyguards had remained in the back to give them privacy, and for that, she was grateful. It was awkward enough having to admit you could be an asshole without having an audience bear witness to it.

  “So,” he said, keeping his voice casual, “you dating any boys lately?”

  Her eyebrows shot up, and she stuffed the rest of the muffin in her mouth in an attempt not to answer.

  “Or is it called…talking…to someone? I don’t know the lingo these days.”

  Trying not to choke on her muffin, she quickly swallowed and took a sip of her coffee. “No. No dating. No talking. No marriage plans in the next decade, don’t worry.”

  He tried and failed not to show the relief on his face, before saying, “That’s my girl.” Then he frowned, and stammered, “Uh…not dating any…girls either, then?”

  “Dad!” she said with a laugh, and grabbed his empty plate to take back to the kitchen. “That’s a no too.”

  “Well, I was just checking.”

  As she laughed to herself and rinsed off the plates to put them in the dishwasher, the doorbell rang. Kirkpatrick appeared before she even shut the door to the washer, and looked through the peephole.

  “He’s early,” he said to Katherine before opening the door.

  She wiped her hands on a dishtowel and peered around the bar to see Steven standing in the doorway.

  “Hey,” he said when he saw her. “Can I come in? I thought maybe we could talk now.”

  “Yeah, of course,” she said, and Kirkpatrick moved aside so Steven could enter.

  His brown hair was windblown and longer than it had been the last time she’d seen him, and when he rubbed his hand over his face, she noticed how tired he looked. Wrapping her arms around him, she hugged him tight and he put his loosely around her waist, bending his head down so his chin was on her shoulder.

  “I missed you—” she began, but was cut off when Steven’s head jerked up.

  “What’s he doing here?” he asked, his eyes angrily flashing to her father.

  “Steven!” she said, shocked that he would be so rude.

  Her dad’s eyes shot up at the same time. “Pardon me?”

  “I thought you knew I was coming over,” Steven said.

  She stared at him, baffled. “Uh…I knew you’d be by at some point today, but I wasn’t aware I needed to clear my entire schedule. What the hell is your problem?”

  “He’s my problem.” Steven pointed at her father. Shaking his head, he said, “Forget it. We’ll talk later.”

  As he turned to leave, she grabbed his arm and made him face her. “We’ll talk now. What’s going on?” His breaths were rapid, his fists clenched. She looked over at her dad. “What am I missing here?”

  Her father stood up but stayed where he was, a confused expression on his face too. “I have no idea. Steven, son, come sit down and we can—”

  “Don’t fucking call me your son,” Steven spat. “Not after you lied to us. To both of us.” He indicated to her with his thumb.

  Thompson entered the room and looked around. “What’s the problem out here?”

  “Nothing, everything’s fine,” her father assured him.

  Thompson disagreed: “If there’s a situation, we can remove him.”

  “Gentlemen, please.” Her father held his hands up. “Steven, I’m sure whatever’s bothering you, we can talk through it—”

  “I don’t want to talk through it with you. I came here for Kat.”

  “Then spit it the hell out already,” she said.

  He grabbed a handful of his hair and paced the floor before shouting, “My dad had an affair with your mom!”

  She regarded him steadily and kept her voice calm, as though she were talking to a child, even though her insides were suddenly screaming at her. “What are you talking about?”

  Steven glared at her father. “Why haven’t you told her?”

  Justice Shaw kept his eyes on Steven and gave a slight shake of his head. “I don’t know how you found out that information, Steven, but that’s not something you or Katherine ever needed to know.”

  “Bullshit! Your wife was fucking my dad, and you didn’t think we would find out?”

  “Steven!” her father thundered.

  Katherine felt the blood drain from her face. “That’s not true. Why would you say that? It’s not true.”

  But Steven was in full-on hysterics, still screaming at her father. “My mom left us because of her, and you knew and you never told me why. Not when I cried trying to figure out what I’d done wrong, why my mom didn’t want me anymore. This whole time I thought it was something I did. But it was you. You and my father—our fucked-up parents. Ruining our lives, Kat.”

  “I think that’s enough,” her father said quietly.

  Katherine’s grip on the back of the chair was so hard, her hand had started to go numb. Numb. Like the rest of her body.

  “Tell me he’s lying,” she said, her focus on Steven and the tears streaming down his face. She looked at her fa
ther. “Tell me.”

  But his eyes said everything. There was regret. Shame. Embarrassment. Heartache. All swirling together in the depths of his blue eyes.

  “No,” she said, the sting of tears pricking her eyes. She shook her head. “That’s not true. Mom wouldn’t do that. She wouldn’t have done that.” She turned back to Steven. “You’re lying.”

  “I’m not lying, Kat.” The words were barely audible.

  She let go of the chair and started to back away.

  “Katherine,” her father said, “it was one time. And it was after your mom had left, Steven. You weren’t supposed to ever find out about that. Neither of you were.”

  “Oh yeah? Then who sent me the picture?” he spat.

  That seemed to take her father aback. “What picture?”

  “The one of the two of them…when they…” Steven choked off his words and turned away, running his fingers through his hair again.

  Her father stood stunned in his place for a long moment before saying, “I didn’t realize there was a photo. I’m so sorry you had to see that.”

  “She told you?” Steven said. “Why would she—”

  “Because it was one time,” her father interrupted. “Because there were many reasons for what she did, and I’m no less guilty for my part in what happened.” He stepped toward Steven, who didn’t move away. “Believe me when I say that your mom didn’t leave you because of this. I’m sure it didn’t help your parents’ situation, but what happened then was a mistake.” He looked over at Katherine then. “I forgave your mom and she forgave me too.”

  “Did…did you do that too?” she managed, not really wanting to know the answer. Her world had just blown up with Steven’s revelation, and she didn’t think she could handle hearing any more.

  Her father shook his head. “No. But I wasn’t around. I wasn’t around then…and I haven’t been around now.” His eyes were glassy, the rims of his eyes red. “And for that, I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. I just don’t know how else to cope with things than to throw myself into work and try to forget. That’s never been fair to you. It wasn’t fair to your mother either, and it’s my fault I didn’t show her or tell her enough just how much I loved her.”