“I get it, Lilah. I still live that moment on the beach years ago, probably as much as you do, but I’m okay. I’m not going anywhere.”
Suddenly panic becomes anger. “Damn this bastard. I’m going to find him, and he’s going to be sorry he fucked with me and you. Go back inside. Do not even think about leaving. Do not even think about letting him believe he got to me or you.”
“That’s the Lilah I know. Lilah fucking—”
“Mendez,” I supply.
“Mendez,” he repeats. “I’m going inside. I just hung up on a prince.”
I give a fast nod of my chin, and turn away.
“Lilah,” Kane calls after me.
I rotate to face him and he says, “We kill them. They don’t kill us.
“After we bitch slap them.”
He laughs, that deep, Kane laugh of his, but I don’t laugh.
I head back to the theater. And I walk, nice and slow, and calculated.
Chapter Forty
Kane isn’t as worried about my four hours of sleep, and I’m not, either.
We’re barely in the door of the house, and we’re naked, and I’m against the wall in the hallway. That’s just how we get started. We move upstairs, and the bed that used to represent a power play between us, becomes the place we work through all those crazy emotions that marriage and fear of losing the person you said, “I do” to creates.
In between the very physical way we’re expressing these things, we lay naked, side-by-side, and we talk. “I know I said this right after your crash, but I understand all the things you felt after I was attacked.” I sit up to stare down at him, oblivious to how naked I am, because that’s where I’m at with Kane—naked in every way. “There’s so many things I wish I could take back.”
“You did. You married me.”
“I should have married you a long time ago.”
“We wouldn’t have been who we are, right now, together if you had. We had to go through all of those things to get here.”
I climb on top of him and say, “And now we’re married.”
“Yes,” he says. “We are.”
He flips me over and settles on top of me, because apparently, the bed is still a place where we have the push and pull of a power play. Only now I admit, I like it.
When I finally fall asleep, it’s with tomorrow night in my mind.
The night the power play is us against our enemies.
Chapter Forty-One
When I wake up without my four hours of sleep, it’s as if war drums are pounding away in my head. I’m confrontational. I’m bitchy. I’m hungry. And I eat junk food to comfort me and save everyone else.
Kane knows this and prepares. He has donuts waiting for me downstairs at the kitchen bar. I open the box and snatch a chocolate covered éclair, teeth sinking into the sweet cream.
“I’d suggest you take a nap before the event tonight, but you might hit me,” he comments, setting a cup of coffee in front of me.
I take another bite of my donut and say nothing. My body still remembers last night fondly. My groggy mind does not. “I’m going to be a bitch all day,” I warn. “You should avoid me.”
He rounds the island and kisses me. “I’m going to work. Jay will take you wherever you need to go. Don’t hurt him.”
“I’ll try.”
He laughs. “I’ll warn him.”
He moves, intending to leave. I catch his arm. “Be careful. A serial killer has you on his radar.”
“We both know that was about taunting you, not me, which is why you’re layered up today with security.”
“I don’t—”
“I know. You won’t see anyone but Jay. I have to go.” He walks towards the door.
“Be careful, Kane!” I call after him.
He ignores me, and I stuff another bite of donut in my mouth, thanking the lord above I told Rollins to do the interviews on his own. Half a cup of coffee later, I text Tic Tac: I’m tired, I’m cranky. Please tell me you have something good to tell me, but don’t call me. I’ll be mean to you. I won’t be able to help myself.
He replies with: Four hours, Lilah. You’ve agreed to get your four hours for all of our safety. I’m working on the list of names who were at that horror club that Jack Cox gave you. One of the people at the fan club catches my eyes. Landry Williams.
I frown and type: Who the fuck names their kid Landry?
He ignores my very important question and moves on: He’s a doctor. To me that says intelligent with an understanding of the human body. He also doesn’t live in the neighborhood so going to that club meeting took a lot of time and effort. But here’s the really interesting part. He cross-references with the female victim. His office number was in her cellphone directory. I think you need to pay him a visit…