by Jen Davis
Kane stood frozen, his ears ringing, unprepared as the skinny guy with the baseball cap sprang to his feet. Everything went in slow motion as the man pulled a wicked blade from his belt and lunged toward Scott.
There was no thought, only instinct, as he stepped between the knife and his brother’s throat. The serrated blade sliced into his left cheek.
He threw a punch, and his assailant doubled over, then struck out again with his blade. This time, the metal poked fire into his gut.
More gunshots flew around him, and the punch of a bullet penetrated his shoulder. He dropped like a ton of bricks; his attacker fell a couple of feet away, his dead eyes staring at the ceiling.
The room was silent now. His vision swam, blackness threatening to overtake him.
Peacock-blue slacks and a duffel bag passed his line of sight. “Your money, Señor Hale. You’ll find the cash is all there as promised.” A Spanish accent. “Now I suggest you see to your young friend. He’s not looking so good.”
It was the last thing he heard before the world slipped away.
He woke up in the hospital. Everything hurt.
His room was quiet, save for the steady beeping of the heart monitor. No sign of his brother or his parents. He blinked, and the last vestiges of daylight had disappeared. A dim light shone from a panel above his bed. A gentle pressure squeezed against his hand.
He turned toward the small sob from his right.
“Mandy,” he rasped. The skin on his face tugged against the tape and bandage as he formed the word.
Tears streaked her face. Her beautiful hair tangled in wild disarray. He attempted to lean toward her, to comfort her, but the pain of moving leveled him back to the bed. He tried to swallow, but his tongue was so dry, it stuck to the roof of his mouth. A cough shook his body and, dear God, did it hurt. Still, he couldn’t stop.
Finally, a straw slipped between his lips, and the cool water helped him settle. Mandy held the glass close to him until he drank his fill, then set it on the tray beside her.
“I’m so glad you’re here,” he whispered, squeezing her hand weakly. He’d made such a mistake following his brother into a stupid fucking drug den. Never again. He’d cut the cord. His family business was the past. Mandy was his future.
She pulled her hand away from his. “I can’t see you anymore.”
Her words didn’t make sense.
The medication must be messing with me.
He shook his head.
“I can’t be involved in this world, Kane.” She wiped the tears from her cheeks and hardened her expression. “Do you know how many people died today?”
“But—” His voice failed him. God, he hurt so much.
She stood. “Don’t call me; I won’t answer. Don’t try to see me; you’re no longer part of my life.” She gave him her back and walked to the door.
Tears spring to his eyes.
What is happening?
Nothing made sense. The only thing he knew was he had to stop her from walking out the door. He forced himself upright, the pain in his gut burning fire anew. Blood seeped through his sheets. He reached out. “Mandy.”
“Goodbye, Kane.”
He felt like he was dying. And when his last glimpse of her red hair disappeared from the room, he no longer had the will to fight it.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Kane
Kane couldn’t look at Mike as he recounted the night he’d refused to think about in years. In the weeks and months after Mandy left him, he’d dissected the memory in every way he could. He tried to make sense of it, but every time he came up empty. Eventually, he simply stopped trying.
“You never tried to see her again?” Mike’s words finally made him look up. “Never tried to call her?”
He blew out a deep breath. “Course I did. But she wouldn’t take my calls. You hadn’t seen her. She even had a bodyguard for a while to keep me away.”
“She didn’t come around here for weeks.” Mike seemed to be talking to himself. “Wouldn’t take my calls either. I figured she needed time.” His eyes narrowed as he focused back on Kane. “I always thought you must have cheated on her or something. Nothing else made sense. She loved you.”
Heat flashed up his neck. “Fuck you. I would have cut off my arm for your sister. I never even looked at another woman.” He rose to his feet, his voice climbing with his outrage.
“So, you’re saying she left you because your thug brother dragged you into a shootout?” Mike shook his head like his own words didn’t make sense.
He sighed deeply, the familiar weight of the memory settling on his chest. “Something, or someone, set the building on fire after I passed out.” He rubbed his fingers over the crease in his forehead.
Mike shrugged. “Okay. It still doesn’t—” He gasped as the realization hit. “Oh, my God. The big apartment fire in the Bluff?”
“Yeah,” he murmured.
The horror on Mike’s face punched him in the gut.
“Something like twenty people died. Holy shit, Kane. That was you?”
Growling, he launched to his feet and loomed over his former friend. “No, it wasn’t me. Were you even listening? I was un-fucking-conscious.”
“Step back from my brother. Right. Now.” Ice and steel reinforced Mandy’s voice behind him.
He whirled to face her, taking in her fiery hair and fierce expression. His pulsing anger muted the effect her nearness usually caused. “Back off. This has nothing to do with you.”
A lie.
Her green eyes glittered dangerously. “My brother has everything to do with me. Threaten him again, and I’ll wear your intestines as a hat.”
“I wasn’t threatening him.” Thank God furniture stood between them. The urge to shake her overwhelmed him, though he’d never really put his hands on a woman in anger.
She shook her head. “Bullshit. You’re up in his face—”
“I am not—” Their climbing voices tried to drown each other out.
“Enough.” Cindy’s sharp voice cut through the air, silencing them both. The baby on her hip was crying. “Take it outside.” Mike gaped in stunned silence beside her.
Mandy spun on her heel and stomped out the front door. He followed at her heels.
The door was barely closed behind them when she poked him in the chest. “This was not what I meant when I said you should come to visit him.”
“And it’s all about what you want, right, Your Highness?” He purposely chose a variation of Scott’s old nickname for her, and she flinched.
“Mike is recovering from a serious accident. The last thing he needs is you bullying him over something that happened a hundred years ago.”
A hundred years ago? Reliving what had happened at the hospital made it feel more like yesterday. He looked pointedly at the place her finger still rested against his chest, then raised his eyebrow.
She dropped her hand and shook it like it burned, then made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat.
“Is everything okay here?”
He looked over Mandy’s shoulder at the quiet question. The first thing that registered was the hair. The boy’s hair was the same beautiful red as Mandy’s.
“It’s fine, Joshua,” she murmured. “Go on inside with your parents. I’ll be there in a minute.”
Parents? No way was this kid Mike and Cindy’s. Not with Cindy’s dark skin and Mike’s dirty blond curls.
This kid had a fiery head of hair and green eyes he could have only gotten from one place.
Mandy.
Had she moved on from him so quickly? He staggered back. “How old are you?”
The kid—Joshua, she’d called him—frowned. “I’m twelve. Why? Who are you?”
He searched the boy’s features. Could this be…?
Suddenly, the air felt thinner. His chest grew tight.
Joshua said something to Mandy he couldn’t make out, then walked into the house.
“Is this why you left me?” The tangle o
f emotions rising in his chest made his head swim. He leaned against the siding next to the front door.
All this time. He had a kid, and he didn’t fucking know it.
He had a son.
“How could you keep this from me?” he roared.
Mandy paled. “He’s not yours.”
He found his footing again, and the rage bubbled up. “The fuck he’s not.”
She reached out, putting her hand on his arm, but he shook her off. “He’s not even mine.”
The lie burned like fire. For the first time, things started to make sense. Why she left him. Why she wouldn’t even see him all those years.
He’d loved her for so long. Even after she crushed his heart. Even after she ruined him for any other woman. But now? For the first time, he knew what it was to hate her. “I want a DNA test.” He shouldered past her, heading toward his bike. He needed to be anywhere but here.
She ran behind him. “Joshua is not our child.”
“Do you think I’m blind?” he shouted as he whirled to face her. “You and Mike don’t share one strand of DNA. His kid looks just like you.”
“He’s my brother,” she said weakly.
“Your stepbrother.” The fury threatened to make him explode. He turned back to his Harley before he said or did something he couldn’t take back.
“No.” She stepped between him and the bike, blocking his path. “Joshua is my brother.”
He shook his head, his brain trying to make sense of what she said.
She forged on. “We both look like my mom. Joshua is her son with Charlie.”
“But…they died.” Only a few months after Mandy left him. He’d heard nothing about a baby.
Mandy squeezed her eyes closed tightly. “Mom didn’t tell anyone she was pregnant until after her first trimester. She was in her forties; she was worried about a miscarriage. She was about seven months along when their car accident happened. The baby survived; she didn’t. I give you my word.”
His mind scrambled, searching for a hole in her story. His knees weakened, the rage giving way to crushing sadness. There was a time he would have accepted Mandy’s word without question—back when he thought he knew her. She was a stranger now.
He walked around her and climbed on his bike from the other side. “Your word isn’t good enough. Not when it’s this important. I need proof.” He pushed the ignition button, and the engine rumbled between his legs. “You’ve got until Monday.”
Ignoring her stricken expression, he revved the engine and peeled out into the street.
***
Amanda
Amanda’s eyes stung as Kane sped away, his long, dark hair streaming behind him. How far had she fallen in his eyes for him to believe she would have kept a child from him?
Tired and heartsick, she let herself back into her brother’s house.
Mike was nowhere in sight, but Joshua sat on the sofa, his thin arms folded over his chest. He stood when she walked in. “I finally got to see the infamous Kane.” He frowned. “He thought I was his kid, didn’t he?”
She gaped. “Wh—where did you hear his name?”
Joshua rolled his eyes. “Are you kidding me? I’ve heard his name my entire life. Being a kid doesn’t make me deaf, and despite what all of you think, it doesn’t make me dumb. Of course, the guy thought you were my mom. I used to wonder the same thing.”
Oh no. She rubbed at her chest as she dropped to the sofa. “Oh, honey. Why didn’t you say anything?”
“I did, eventually, but for a long time before I talked to Dad, I used to make up stories in my head. About why you gave me up…about how you might want me back someday. About the Kane-guy Mom and Dad whispered about sometimes.” His eyes lost some of their fire. “I’m glad I know the truth now. It makes things easier.”
“We should have told you sooner.” How long had he thought she’d rejected him?
Mike wheeled in from the kitchen. “It’s getting late, Josh. Go finish up your math homework.”
Joshua nodded and left the room without another word.
Mike waited until the bedroom door closed before he spoke again. “It’s time to stop keeping so many secrets.”
She’d kept so many for so long, she couldn’t imagine what her life would be like without them. Her secrets had defined her for longer than she wanted to admit.
“He told me what happened the night you broke up with him.” There was a hint of accusation there. “You should know he had nothing to do with the fire, Amanda. The guy he was then wouldn’t have hurt a fly.”
“I can’t do this, Mike.” She needed a drink. Thankfully, she knew where her brother kept the bourbon. A dozen steps to the kitchen, then she had a highball glass in her hand. The familiar burn soothed the shards of ice in her chest.
But Mike was right behind her. He was clearly unwilling to let this go. “He was going to go buy you a ring, for fuck’s sake.”
She didn’t want to know that. More bourbon, more burn. “Leave it alone,” she rasped.
“I won’t!” he bellowed. “I should have never left it alone this long. What the hell happened, Amanda? I know you loved him, and the poor bastard obviously loved you too.”
“Stop.” Tears threatening, she pushed them back and drank from the bottle.
“It was your father.” He said it quietly, with no hint of doubt. “Nothing else makes sense. He never wanted you with Kane. What I don’t understand is how he got you to go along with it.”
What difference did it make now? “He would have put him in jail for the rest of his life,” she said dully. “He still could. There’s no statute of limitations on murder.”
***
13 years ago
October
A baby.
Amanda couldn’t help but smile as she held up the tiny onesie with the Atlanta Braves insignia. It didn’t matter if she was having a brother or a sister, this kid would be a Braves fan. She paid for the outfit and hummed quietly as she left the store.
The sunshine on her face was the cherry on top of the delicious fall afternoon. A cool breeze lifted her hair from her neck. She stood only a couple of feet from the curb when her father’s silver BMW pulled in front of her.
The passenger side window rolled down. “Get in.”
Ignoring her creeping unease, she climbed inside. “How did you even know I was here?” She’d been at her mom’s before she started shopping; she hadn’t even seen her dad in weeks.
He didn’t answer her question as he pulled back into traffic. It was only a few blocks to his house. He got out of the car without a word, assuming she would follow—which she did, but only after a deep sigh.
Surprisingly, he led her to his study, where he turned on the TV mounted on the wall. The news played; a giant fire blazed through what looked like an apartment building. The words on the bottom of the screen read:
TWENTY-TWO MISSING,
FEARED DEAD IN APARTMENT FIRE.
“How terrible,” she murmured.
“It’s going to send your boyfriend to jail for the rest of his life.”
She turned in time to see the hint of a smile on her father’s face before it disappeared. “What are you talking about?”
He steepled his fingers beneath his chin. “The urchin you’ve been seeing. He’s responsible for this.”
She didn’t believe him for a second. “Kane would never start a fire, Dad. Don’t be ridiculous.”
He entwined his perfectly manicured fingers together and dropped them in front of his waist. “What is ridiculous is my daughter, involved with a member of the Hale family. Those…people…live on the fringe of our society. Motorcycle gangs, drugs, and guns. It’s all beneath you, Amanda.”
There was a reason she kept her private life away from her father. “Kane isn’t involved in any of his family’s dealings.”
“Really?” he mused, and dread trickled down her spine. Reaching down to his desk, he spun his open laptop to face her. Frozen on the screen was a sti
ll frame of Kane and his brother on Scott’s motorcycle. He hit the spacebar, and she watched the two of them exchange words before Scott walked away. Kane followed him into the apartment building she saw ablaze on the TV.
She swallowed. “Okay, he was there. It’s a pretty big leap to go from stepping on the property to him setting the fire.”
“Not when I have someone threatening to testify to it if I don’t pay him off.” Her father all but hissed. “I don’t like being threatened, Amanda. And I don’t appreciate you giving someone the means to do it.”
“I have nothing to do with you getting blackmailed.” Heat climbed her face. “And I don’t care what some lowlife says, Kane didn’t do this.”
“That lowlife…is an undercover cop.” He slammed the laptop closed. “If you think his word won’t carry weight, you’re a fool.”
None of this made sense. Kane wanted nothing to do with his father’s motorcycle club; she’d bet her life on it. “I know he had to have a good reason for being there.”
“It doesn’t matter, Amanda. Whether he did it or he didn’t, this cop has the power to put him away. Unless I pay him not to.”
“How much does he want?” She had some money saved. Maybe she could take care of this herself.
“Fifty thousand dollars.” The words fell like a lead balloon. “Your boyfriend had the motive, the means, and the opportunity to set this fire. There’s an eyewitness and a video placing him at the scene.”
Motive? “He had no motive, Dad. What could he possibly have to gain?”
He raked his hand through his hair in a very un-Beauregard-like gesture. “To benefit his father’s organization. The real targets were in the drug trade. They were the men the cop was in deep with. I’m not sure how this change in leadership ties to his family’s ‘motorcycle club,’” he said, curving his fingers into air-quotes, “but that’s the crux of it. Whether the Hale boy is part of the club or not is irrelevant. Some people actually value getting their father’s approval.”
His little dig hit home. She knew her father loved her, but it was a selfish kind of love. It had been the same way when he was with her mom. If she didn’t put him first—if she didn’t see things his way—he took it as a personal affront. You were either with him or against him. She sighed. “What are we going to do?”
