She curls her legs to her side to face me, and I do the same with her. “What’s up with you and Kayden?”
“Still up for debate. I saw you last night on the monitor screaming at him.”
Her eyes drop sharply to her cup. “Yes. I guess I did.”
“What did you scream at him?”
Her gaze shoots to mine. “Mean things. Horrible things, Ella. My father was working for him when he died.”
“I know.”
“Kayden told you.”
“Yes.”
She hesitates. “What did he say?”
“Not a lot, but he hurts, too. Badly.”
Her throat bobs with a hard swallow. “My father worked for Kevin before Kayden. They were all close, but I didn’t meet Kayden until after it happened.”
“You moved here after your father died?”
“Yes. Kayden wanted us here where we’d be safe. I guess he had new security installed after . . .”
“Five years ago,” I say. “I know.” And I suddenly have a renewed need to hear Kayden’s voice. I set my cup down and pick up the phone, and dial his number. Ring. Ring. Ring. Voice mail. “Damn it,” I whisper.
Giada sets her cup down as well. “What’s up with him and Gallo?”
“Gallo blames him for something in his past, like you do.”
“I don’t blame Kayden.” She purses her lips. “Okay, maybe last night I did. I was drinking and hurting.”
“I meant what I said. He’s hurting too. You have to know that—right?”
“He’s hard to know.”
“Because he carries the burden of so much loss that he can’t let anyone in.” I face her, hesitating to share Kayden’s past, but gamble that dropping a tidbit of his past is okay. “Do you know about his family?”
“He never talks about them.”
“He lost them when he was ten. That’s when Kevin adopted him.”
“Oh, my God. What happened to them?”
“It’s not my place to share that story, and please don’t mention that I told you at all. But I’ll try to get Kayden to tell you.” An image forms in my mind of a pretty redheaded woman who is smiling at me, and my chest expands painfully. My mother. She’s gone, and it hurts so much. I will away the tears threatening to form, my voice hoarse as I continue. “I think Kayden can relate to your loss more than you realize.” And me, I add silently, swallowing hard and forcing myself to look at her. “Instead of blaming him, I think he might be a good person to talk to.”
“He’s kind of scary.” Her lips curve. “And sexy, which is intimidating.”
I laugh. “Hmmm. Yes. I can relate.” We both end up smiling and there’s a connection between us. “Where’s your mother?”
“She died of cancer when I was ten.”
Cancer. The word slides inside me, and finds an open wound that has my mother’s memory all over it. I know it as familiar and horrible, just like I know sympathy can be painful. So I don’t offer it. “Tell me about her.”
She starts talking and we both end up lying down on the couch, while I clutch the phone and will it to ring. Better yet, I just want Kayden to walk through the door.
Loud knocking on the street door wakes us up, both of us jolting to a sitting position where we’ve fallen asleep on the couch. The throb in my head is instant. “Oh God,” I murmur, pushing through the dull ache to grab my phone and check it to find no calls.