Saints and Sinners: The Complete Series

by Eden Butler

  “My sweet girl, you sleep well,” he told her, his throat burning when she held onto his neck.

  “Night, makuakāne.”

  He waited until Gia had led the girl down the hallway, until he heard the quiet thump of her door closing before he downed two of the three shots Wilson had poured for him.

  “Jesus,” he mumbled, leaning back.

  “Man, girls are hard,” Wilson said.

  “You have no babies,” Pérez told him, head shaking when Wilson glared at him. “What? It’s not true?”

  “I have nieces and a lot of damn sisters.” He refilled Kai’s glass and pushed the bottle across the table. “I’m practically a fucking expert on little girls.”

  “But not big ones,” Pérez said, laughing at his own joke.

  Kai appreciated their banter. He was grateful for their presence. The whole week hadn’t been just them arguing and fussing or trying to get him piss drunk. Wilson and Pérez both were decent men. They knew what Kai needed. They’d slapped his back, helping him stand when he thought the sight of Keeana in that coffin would have him crashing to his knees. They kept the overzealous fans out of his daughter’s home. Both his friends had made this week easier. They’d distracted him from the constant ache that threatened to explode from his chest.

  “I know them good enough.” Wilson drank, nodding to Kai and his still full glass. “Too good, it seems.”

  “What’s that mean? There’s no such thing as being too good with women.” Pérez snorted a laugh, taking another shot.

  “Cat…you didn’t see her…” Wilson started, his eyes glassy when he watched Pérez. Kai ignored them both, barely paying any attention to their conversation until Wilson slapped the table drawing Kai’s focus back to him. “Reese ever tell you about that asshole Cat’s been hanging out with?” Kai tilted his head, waving at the man before he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

  “Hey, pendejo, the man has more to worry about than who the GM’s assistant is fucking.” He threw a crumpled paper towel at his teammate. “Why do you even care anyway?”

  “Because,” Kai heard, dropping his hand from his face to spot Gia returning to the dining room, “Mr. Wilson can’t believe that Cat has outgrown the stupid crush she had on him when she was a kid.”

  “How’d you know about…” Wilson started, shutting up the second his boss cocked her head to the side.

  “I’m pulling rank on you two,” Gia told them, walking to Pérez’s side to grab the bottle. “You have a ten a.m. flight, and I want you both back at the practice center training. The playoffs are coming.”

  They didn’t put up much of a fight, and Kai figured it was the command in Gia’s voice and that mama bear attitude she adopted for Cat as well that had her easily sending two grown men, large, athletic men, packing.

  “Thank you,” Kai told her, grabbing the bottle from her hand to pour her a shot. “They mean well.”

  “They’re a good distraction, I bet.” She grabbed the shot, holding it up for Kai. “To Keeana and the beautiful, sweet girl she made with you.”

  Kai worked his jaw, fighting back the burn that had crested in his eyes, but saluted Gia, clearing his throat before he said, “To them both.”

  “She’s worried about you,” Gia admitted, nodding toward the hallway. When he only shook his head, dismissing the suggestion, she grabbed his hand, resting her fingers against his knuckles to bring his attention to her. Kai glanced at her, frowning when he spotted the tension that tightened her mouth. “She’s not the only one.”

  “Don’t,” he told her, barely able to keep his voice from cracking. “Save your concern for her. She needs it now.”

  “This isn’t a weakness, Kai.” Gia squeezed his hand, slipping her fingers against his palm. “This is grief and it’s yours, but it’s hers too.”

  “I’m…trying.” He stared at the ring on her finger, the large sapphire and small cluster of diamonds that circled it, trying like hell to keep himself from breaking down in front of her. “I don’t know if I can…”

  “No one said you have to do it alone.”

  Kai jerked his attention to Gia, staring at her now with some of his fear and anguish lifting. She hadn’t made him feel anything less than what had consumed him all week, but the surprise of her subtle offer gave him hope, something Kai thought he’d have to give up a long time ago.

  “What are you…”

  “I’m not saying she’s right. You will have your sister…”

  “Maybe.”

  “And I’m not the marrying kind.” Kai didn’t like the sound of that or how easily that admission came from her. “But I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t care…about you both. No matter what happens, I can’t just walk away from…” She looked at their hands, then back toward the hallway before she licked her lips, pressing them together. “Well. I’m just saying…you’re not on your own.”

  Gia touched his shoulder before she left for the guest bedroom and it was minutes before Kai moved. He stayed at that table memorizing how her hand had felt against his and the small promise she made in her offer. Kai stayed at that table until the memory was clear, a perfect recall, until the sweet scent of Gia’s perfume had faded from the room. Then, he rested, crashing on the sofa, unable to keep the first smile he’d worn in a week off his lips. For the first night in a long while, Kai thought maybe he would rest well.

  16.

  KAI

  KEEANA’S LIFE had been reduced to four large boxes in the living room. Kai stared at them, wondering how this had all happened so quickly. He wondered how many boxes would mark his life when his time came.

  Her parents and sisters had come in to collect all of the things they didn’t think Keola would want. And it was then that Kai’s decision about the house was made.

  “We’ll give it to you,” he told her parents just before they left. Her mother had fallen against his chest, sobbing. For a modest, humble family like Keeana’s, selling a house like this would be life changing.

  Her father hadn’t been able to look at Kai when he spoke. “You were always a good boy, Kai.” He kept his attention on the ocean, the sky dark, matching the mood of the day. “I knew you’d be a good man too.”

  They’d called him son once. His daughter would be part of them forever, he knew that, promised them they would always be welcomed in his home. “She’s your blood. You can see Keola anytime you want. I don’t want you to think I’m taking her away…”

  “She’s your kaikamahine. She goes where you do. It’s what my daughter would have wanted.”

  By ten p.m., the house was silent. Kai hated the feeling of it. He hated the stillness in this house and the ache it brought to his chest. Gia seemed to know. She always did.

  “I’m going to cook for you,” she announced, shaking her head when an unexpected laugh left his mouth. “Don’t sound so surprised. I’m Italian. I know my way around a noodle.”

  Gia wouldn’t let him in the kitchen while she tried to lighten the mood, opening cabinet doors that they hadn’t gotten around to packing yet and boxes with Keola’s sheets that Kai used to cover the coffee table. Dru had come to take Keeana’s bed and the dining room set, which he’d bought for her the Christmas before. The man was quiet when Kai talk to him and rattled by this loss. He understood that. Felt it choking him if he thought on it for too long.

  By eleven, Gia had finished cooking and she and Kai sat on the floor across from each other eating buttery pasta and fat shrimp dripping in garlic sauce. He managed three bites, conceding that Gia could cook before his appetite left him.

  “I’m sorry,” he told her, surprised when she took his hand, giving it a squeeze before she brought his plate into the kitchen. “You mad?”

  “I’m honestly shocked you got even that much down.” Gia moved back into the living room, refilling his wineglass, but he didn’t drink. “I couldn’t eat for days…afterward.”

  She’d never told him, not once, about what had happened to her in the past, but Ka
i had his guesses. If he used his brain, if he added facts, thought about her, who she was, what kind of men would be drawn to her, he’d figure out quickly that no one would walk away from her unless they couldn’t help it. Facts and figures, and the expression that came on her face whenever her time at CPU got mention told Kai that the guy who’d left her heartsick hadn’t done it on purpose. He hadn’t meant it. He hadn’t been able to help it.

  He’d died, but Kai wouldn’t press and he wouldn’t make assumptions. It was Gia’s story to tell if she wanted.

  “The guy? Back in college.”

  She leaned against the sofa, eyes bright and glistening and Kai didn’t think it was just an effect of the wine. “He wasn’t an asshat.”

  “Of course he wasn’t,” he told her, reaching across the table for her fingers. “Bet you can’t show me a man who’s asshat enough to lose you on purpose.”

  Gia closed her eyes, as though she couldn’t stand watching him look at her that way and part of him understood. They were in Maui to bury the one he’d once loved more than anyone else in the world. She’d been everything to him. There was no time, no real place for Kai to think about Gia as anything other than an enormous help to him.

  Keeana had only been gone a week and Kai was in her home, touching another woman; a woman his ex knew very well he wanted. She wouldn’t have been angry. In fact, she would have likely encouraged him to make his move. But the timing was off, and he was still too shell shock to think about anything other than surviving until the next moment.

  Kai pulled his hand away and used it to grab his glass, glancing toward the patio and that ocean view as he downed the wine. “This was good, Gia… thank you.”

  “Anytime,” she said, getting up to clear away the dishes, something she seemed intent on doing without his help, despite him offering. “No, it’s fine. I’m just going to do this and then we can get ready to crash. There’s a lot to do before we go home on Wednesday.”

  He nodded, not liking her dismissal. But Kai’s energy was zapped, and he was exhausted. He waited for Gia to finish the kitchen and move into the now sparsely outfitted guest room. There was only a mattress and box springs on the floor and a few towels left in the bathroom. Gia squeezed his shoulder when she left the living room, a silent good night that he didn’t try to make last longer. It was nearly a half hour before the guest shower kicked off and he heard Gia’s low hum go silent and the light in the guest room click off.

  Finally, he was alone. Finally, there was something he could say that he hadn’t been able to get out for a solid week.

  Kai stared up at the moon, his bare feet sinking into the damp grass, his gaze wide, open as he stared at the clear sky. Somewhere, he believed, Keeana was there between the stars, maybe floating above them all. Maybe she was part of them, dust and particles that everything was made of. Maybe her soul had descended and left this plane for another one; one that didn’t hurt and tell you how worthless you are. One that didn’t insist that the rich be fed on the backs of the suffering poor. One that didn’t think men like Kai, strong men, athletic men, held greater value than women like Keeana, like his daughter who were clearly smarter, braver than he would ever be.

  Maybe out there, his nani Keeana, his very best friend would be free forever. She would soar and fly and see everything there was to see. Maybe she would shift time and space and be born again into another body, another life that would find Kai and Keola again.

  But Kai didn’t want to think about maybes. He wanted to apologize.

  “Miki, Keeana,” he said, eyes squeezed shut so he could hold her face clearly in his mind. “Forgive me for not saving you. Forgive me for not staying here. Forgive me for not being a better man.”

  The weight of the moment became too much, and Kai felt it topple him. The heaviness of her loss and the responsibility that fell solely to him now, the unfairness that his precious pēpē would grow up with fading memories of her strong, beautiful mother seemed too wrong, too unbearable and Kai let that weight bring him down until he was on his knees. Until he looked up, his cheeks wet yet again, as he closed his eyes praying to the woman who had given so much and taken so little from him.

  “I’m so sorry…”

  He stayed there, face uplifted, body bent to her, wherever she’d gone for hours, it seemed. Maybe it was minutes. Long enough that Kai’s knees hurt him and the drizzle of rain that had begun slowly when he moved out onto the lawn fell heavier, the raindrops stinging him until he jerked against their slaps.

  Kai moved, aching all over as he got up, wiping his face free of tears and the increasing rain, but stopped short when he neared the patio, spotting Gia standing in the doorway, her eyes puffy, her cheeks wet, though she hadn’t stepped into the rain.

  She knew. She always knew.

  When she lifted her arms, calling him to her, Kai moved, collapsing against her, his face on the soft silk of her robe, craving her warmth, her comfort, inhaling that rich, sweet scent that always seemed to surround her.

  “Hush,” she told him when he tried to speak and couldn’t manage much more than a rumble of noise. “Come inside.”

  She led and Kai followed, feeling buzzed and numbed and bruised by the day, by the circumstance, by what might lie ahead for them all. Gia moved around him, slipping into the back and returning with a mostly dry towel that she used to wrap around his shoulders and his neck, to pat his face dry as she sat in front of him on the coffee table.

  He liked the way she touched him. He liked the control in her movements, how each brush of the terrycloth over his face, in his hair was a touch she made to heal, to soothe. When Gia settled the towel over his shoulder, just like he’d done for her when she sprained her ankle, Kai covered her hands with his, making her stare at him, wanting her attention. Needing one look from her that told him he wouldn’t drown in all this pain.

  “Does it ever stop?” he asked her, knowing she understood him. “The pain…will it ever go away?”

  Gia watched him and he wasn’t sure what to make of the expression on her face. He didn’t think she was sad about Keeana. They’d only been around each other twice. Gia had spent the week helping him, helping Keola deal with this. She didn’t know her well, so he knew that look came from somewhere else.

  She shook her head, gaze moving all over his face before she squeezed his fingers and took the towel from his shoulders to dry his arms. “It’s like a scar no one can see.” She glanced at him, eyebrows moving up like she wanted to see if he understood. He nodded, moving his chin to get her to continue. “It’s like a fracture that heals. There will always be a trace of it deep inside you. It will grow with you. It will move when you do. But…” She swallowed, her fingers stopping to curl around his hand. “It won’t ever be gone. You learn to live with it. Sometimes, you can train yourself to forget, maybe for an hour, sometimes for whole days. But that scar, that loss, it’s part of you now.”

  Gia paused, dropping the towel to hold Kai’s hands, skimming her fingertips over his palms. “You’re luckier than I was because you’ve been blessed.”

  Kai covered her fingers with his hand, bringing her attention back to his face. “What do you mean?”

  “Because she left you with something of hers that will always be here.” Her voice was soft and there was a twitch of movement that pulsed across her bottom lip as she spoke. “She lives and breathes and laughs every time Keola does. You look at your girl and you see Keeana and you always will.”

  It was true. Keola had always favored her mother. For that, Kai had been happy, now it was bittersweet. Now he wasn’t so sure that similarity had been such a great gift. “I don’t know if that’s a blessing or a curse.”

  Gia shook her head, opening her mouth as though she needed to fight the rush of words that threatened to spill out of her. “To have a reminder? To have part of her here? To be able to touch her and be reminded of the gift her life was? There’s no curse in that, Kai. That’s magic. That’s a miracle. I…would have…” />
  Kai frowned, realizing how stupid he’d sounded and how obnoxious she might find him.

  But Gia didn’t yell. She didn’t tell him he was a prick. Instead, she stared down at the towel, fiddling with the corner like speaking so honestly and looking at him while she did it was something she couldn’t quite manage. “Well, I think you’re blessed.”

  He leaned forward, taking her hands again, focusing on the small scar that ran across her knuckles. He rubbed it with his thumb, loving the heat from her skin, thinking it was the only thing that kept him calm at the moment. “I’m lost.”

  “You’ll find your way,” she told him, keeping her voice even, her tone sweet. “You’ve never struck me as a man who could ever be helpless. You’re strong when you need to be and right now, your daughter needs all your strength.”

  Keola needed him more than ever. She needed him to be brave. She needed her father to tell her he could protect her. He could save her. But could he? When Nalani had called him, her voice frantic, to tell him about the accident, it was the fear of Keola being dead too that had made him lose himself. That fear had only grown since he came back to Maui and she spotted him at the hospital, running straight into his arms, gripping his collar and begging him, absolutely begging him to never leave her.

  “You won’t go too, will you, makuakāne? Please promise me…promise me you won’t go too.”

  Kai had lost it then. He could barely hold onto his composure now and dropped his head, not wanting Gia to see his face, worried what she might think of him if he went on crying and sobbing like he had no control over himself.

  But she was not a woman cowed by weakness. Gia was a woman in control and just then, she seemed intent on making Kai lose his completely.

  “There’s no one here to see you, and there’s no weakness in this pain,” she said. Gia knelt in front of him, taking his hands from his face. “It hurts and it will go on hurting a long time.” He hated himself, just a little for loving how she smelled, for wanting to kiss her. For wanting to disappear into every curve of her body and every crevice she’d let him uncover. Gia swiped her thumbs under his eyes and pressed her forehead to his. “If you want to cry, you do it. It’s nothing I haven’t done a million times since I was eighteen.”