Chapter 18The kids came home after dinner. Kace was in my bedroom taking a shower when they arrived. Lucky, too, since Olive came in to chat, and I was not ready for her to meet him or know that he was in my life. The guilt of my deception settled heavily on my shoulders.
I didn’t tell her about the snakes. Instead, I thanked her, hugged her and made plans for dinner the following week.
Luckily, both kids were tired from the food and the activities with their grandmother, so they were ready to go straight to bed.
Kace was reading Lily a story, Jack was indulging in his allotted one hour of TV time in bed, and I was outside, trying to decompress.
“What you doing out here?”
Something draped around my shoulders, despite there only being the faintest hint of winter in the air. I liked the chill. Something creeping into my bones, reminding me that I was alive.
But then there was the man who liked me, the one who wanted to protect me from even the slightest chill in the air, despite him knowing that I’d survived well below zero in my past.
Kace sat down beside me, handing me a mug. It felt warm in my palms.
I glanced to him. “You made tea?”
He shrugged, his own mug in his hand.
Something warm moved over me, and it had nothing to do with the tea. “Bex is going to love that,” I murmured.
Kace chuckled but didn’t say anything else. He’d asked his question, giving me the option of answering or sitting in silence. It seemed to me he was over his earlier fury toward me.
I sipped my tea. “I like to sit out here sometimes,” I answered finally. “Listening to the sounds of the neighbors. The crickets. The birds. Watching the sky. Listening in on people living normal, carefree lives. Even though I can’t see them. I don’t want to see them. I just like to hear them, be an audial voyeur for a while. It’s nice. Gives me hope that normal is real. Normal can happen around me, even if it won’t happen to me.” I smiled. “I guess it’s my version of meditation.”
Kace wasn’t smiling back at me. “You don’t think normal is gonna happen to you?” he repeated.
I arched a brow at him. “Honey, I just had someone put a crap-ton of snakes in my underwear drawer, that’s not exactly something that happens to Suzie Teller.”
“Who the fuck is Suzie Teller?”
“I went to high school with her. We were friends. Kind of. She was a bit of a bitch. But in a teenage girl type of way. She grew up just fine. Married the boyfriend she met in college. He owns a construction business. They live on the other side of town. Our kids play sometimes. She brought over a lot of casseroles when Ranger died. But she made a point to keep her distance, you know? From me, from the club. Didn’t want to cause any offense, of course, but she didn’t want my lifestyle to rub off on her. Her husband didn’t get shot to death. And I’m pretty sure if she got her brakes cut or found snakes in her underwear drawer, it would be a big fucking deal. For me it’s just another Tuesday.”
I didn’t sound like I was feeling sorry for myself. At least I really hoped I didn’t. Because I wasn’t. This was the life I’d chosen. For whatever reason, someone wanted to hurt me, scare me. I fucking hated that because of what it might do to my kids, but I wasn’t all that scared for me. Wasn’t even all that surprised.
My mug was no longer in my hand.
Kace was no longer sitting beside me.
He was on his knees in front of me, clutching my neck.
“Is that what you think?” he hissed. “That all life has for you is death and violence? That you’re never going to have normal, happy life?”
I let out a heavy sigh, surprised at how angry he’d gotten. “Look at my life. You see anything to prove me wrong?”
“I’m gonna prove you wrong,” he declared. “This shit is gonna end, and when it does, we’re gonna do normal shit. Go to Costco. Have brunch. Whatever the fuck normal people do. You’ll get that. Until you get bored. And you will get bored, baby.” His eyes flared, hands stroking my jaw. “Then we’ll go back to fucking in the club bathroom. Riding down the coast. Living the outlaw life you were born for.”
I blinked at Kace. Once. Twice. Then I looked around the backyard my husband had created for me.
“I can’t fall in love again,” I murmured, meeting his eyes, making my gaze cold and my voice indifferent.
He didn’t blink at the look nor the words. Nothing showed on his face. “Okay,” he replied.