My eyes narrow. “A colleague… at the club?”
Grinning, he plays with the sugar packets on the counter. “Not the club. I never set foot in that club.”
Almost like I forgot Alex’s talk, like I forgot that Kane was not a criminal at all, I press a hand to my chest in remembrance. “You’re a cop, too?”
He nods. His eyes remain on the sugar packets while Dolly hovers. She’s pretending to be busy, but she wipes the same square foot of counter for minutes. “I’m a cop. Yup.”
Fresh tears burn my eyes. This man knew theotherKane. He knew the real Kane. “You didn’t say. I didn’t guess.”
“Undercover means undercover, girlie. Can’t just announce it to anyone, not even pretty blondes with guns.”
“Oh god. I aimed a gun at you. At a cop. Oh god, is it time to arrest me?”
His back bounces with laughter. “You didn’t just aim at Bishop. Youshotat him. That’s a felony if I ever saw one.”
“I’m not sorry for that.” I turn back to the counter. “If I aimed better, maybe shot him in the thigh, he wouldn’t have been able to work for Hayes that week. Maybe by shooting him, I’d have saved his life. I could be having a milkshake with a dude with a limp right now and listening to him bitch about that time I shot him.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You saved his life that night, girlie. You pulled his tongue outta his throat, you stayed with him, and when cocksuckers were banging on your door and I couldn’t do a thing about it without blowing my cover, you took care of it. Not all women are as badass as you. Not every man gets one of those kinds of girls.”
I shrug and steal one of his sugar packets. “He died because of me. In the end, it’s my fault he’s not here. He ran out to save me, because that’s what he does. And he died.”
“No.” Bringing his hand up, he swipes a tear from my cheek that both soothes and sets me on edge. It’s nice he wants to comfort me, but it’s not his place to touch. It’s Kane’s. “You did nothing wrong, Jess. You were sitting in a police station, and we assumed you’d be safe there. Hayes shot Turner’s junior and took you. That’s not on you.”
“But Kane came to save me. If I wasn’t there, he wouldn’t have come to the club.”
“He’s not sorry. He doesn’t regret you.”
I study the sugar granules that spill onto the counter. Tears slide along my nose, drip off the end, and land in the sugar to create a ball of cloudy liquid. “Doesn’t matter anymore.” I tilt my head to catch his eye. “I finished the bar exam today. I can maybe help people. Lock bad people away. Keep good people out of bad places.”
He grins. “Which one is Bishop? Good or bad?”
“He’s both. He did bad things, but his soul is good. His heart is good. I’d represent him.”
He laughs. “You’d rep him? You think you’d win?”
“I win at everything.” Except love. “I’d fight to the death, if I could.”
Nodding, he stacks sugar packets in a precarious pile. “When a man goes undercover, especially as deep as Kane and Jay were, where their whole lives before the case are erased and in its place is a new identity, a new history, things can get… weird. They were on this case for a year and a half. A year and a half of being these new people. After a while, a guy might believe he is that person.”
“He wasn’t that person.”
“You’d be surprised how much of what you knew was true. When we go under, we’re forced to create a new truth. We practice tics, gaits, habits. After a while, it becomes real. I knew the real Kane. The fake Kane had a different walk. He kinda twisted his foot a little. He wrote with his left hand. He chewed a toothpick almost always.”
I frown. “I never saw a toothpick. He was right handed when I saw him sign the check here.”
He grins. “I know. So eighteen months of practicing these new habits, and around you, he reverted to the real Kane. He was able to switch it on and off, because bet your tiny tush, back in the club, he was walking the fake way, he was chewing a toothpick, and he was holding a gun in his left hand.”
I have nothing to say to that. I simply try to picture this other version of Kane. They’re not huge differences. Not life changing or something that affects me at all. But still, I don’t see it. Every time he touched his dick, it was with his right hand. Every time he touched my neck, it was with his right hand.
His mouth was never filled with toothpicks, because that would hamper his ability to lick me. There’s no way he’d have that barrier there if he didn’t have to.
“Anyway. When an agent goes under, especially when something tragic happens during the case…” He waits for my eyes to come back to his. “Something tragic like your little brother dying in the line, all agents on the case are pulled back.”
“His brother died?” Brand-new tears escape my eyes. “Jay? The brother is Jay? Our ghost.”
“Yes. Jay. He died in that club. So once Abel was out and that place was collapsing, as Kane’s handler, it was my job to pull our agents back.”
“That’s why I haven’t seen you around.”