“I was repeating what you said earlier but I’m anything you need me to be, Lilah Love.”
“Now? Here?”
“Not yet. I’m taking care of that problem. And it’s like your storm. I can’t seem to shut it down. I’ll be home as soon as I can.”
We end the call and that word “home” lingers in my mind. The thing is, since my mother died, there’s no place that feels like home, except here with Kane. My phone rings again, and this time, it’s my brother. I let it ring and go to voicemail. I do actually listen to the voicemail, which is all about family and support and getting my ass to the party. I consider calling back to tell him a few things, but that would earn me a lecture that would exhaust me. I need to catch a killer, and that’s my focus. I focus on pigs, umbrellas, and a monster. In doing so, at some point, time passes fairly rapidly and I end up in the center of the floor with papers everywhere, some of which are mini Hershey wrappers because, yes, Kane bought me chocolate. At present, I’m contemplating Murphy as the Umbrella Man, which tells you how desperate I am. I shut my eyes and will a real answer, that one in the back of my mind, to materialize. I open my eyes, and Kane is standing over me, and damn the man makes a suit look good. No wonder I give in to the sins of his dark world. Look at the man.
“Hi,” I say.
“Hi, beautiful,” he says, “I was glad to see you come home to work earlier, just like old times.”
“You saw me because you were watching me.”
“Yes, Lilah. I was watching you.”
“Stalker.”
“You can watch me, too. We have cameras.”
“That you record everything on.”
He catches my hand and pulls me to my feet. “We can watch that together.”
“You’re dirty.”
“You like me dirty.” He strokes hair away from my face and kisses me hard and fast. “How is it coming?”
“Like shit. He’s close. He’s someone I know, maybe we know.”
“I’m gathering that considering that Mendez name today.”
My cellphone rings, and I glance down at it on the floor to find my brother calling again. “Good lord. He’s stalking me now.”
“We need to go shower and get dressed.” He takes my hand and leads me toward the door, stepping over papers. “I see you found the chocolate.”
“We need another bag, and we’re not donating to my father’s campaign. He already has my mother’s money.”
We step into the bathroom, and he kisses my hand. “No donation.” He catches the hem of my T-shirt. “Let me help you with that.”
“Because you’re so helpful.” I push away from him. “I’ve got it.”
“I’m not helpful?” He shrugs out of his jacket.
I toss my shirt and unhook my bra. His gaze rakes over me, hot and heavy, before he pulls me to him. “What do you need help with now, Lilah?”
“Nothing that requires clothing.”
He catches a handful of my hair, and his mouth comes down on mine. From there, he doesn’t disappoint. Our clothes come off, and I’m reminded of how easily this man can make me forget even the worst, most horrific crimes, if only for a short while, but that escape keeps me human. He’s not going to make me a monster. He’s going to keep me from becoming one. We end up with me on the sink and him inside me, and when it’s over, he presses his cheek to mine and whispers, “I missed the hell out of you.”
And for the first time since I’ve come back, I answer with what I really feel. “I missed you, too.”
He pulls back and stares down at me, his expression unreadable and intense before he kisses me again and carries me to the shower. A long time later, I’ve indulged that part of me that is my mother’s daughter—the part that loves pretty things. I’m in the bathroom finishing up in a pink form-fitting knee-length dress, my lips painted the same shade, my hair a shiny silky brown around my shoulders. Kane joins me in his tuxedo, looking all Latin Stallion, with that air of danger especially edgy tonight.
“God, woman,” he says, pulling me close. “You look stunning.”
“Thank you,” I say, and it’s not awkward. He means his words. He just changes me. “I’ll certainly confuse a few people, fuck with some minds, you know?”
“And we know how much you love that.” His cellphone rings, and he snakes it from his pocket, glancing at the number. His expression tightens, and he releases me to answer the line.
“What now?” he asks. “No. Fuck, no.” He shifts to Spanish and gives me his back, walking out of the bathroom to the bedroom, where I pick up a few key lines like “Do I need to show him who the real fucking Mendez is?” That one gets me. I lean on the sink and squeeze my eyes shut, hating this is his world, our world, but I know Kane. I know he’s forced into this. I know he can’t just walk away.
When he stops speaking, I enter the bedroom to find him standing at the window, one hand on the wall, his gaze on the skyline that is alight with the city, but I know that’s not what he sees. I know he’s in his head. I need to be there, too. I close the space between us and slip between him and the window. “I heard the part about the real Mendez.”
His lashes lower, and he turns away, giving me his back again, but then he rotates to face me. “You know I do what I have to do. You know this.”
“I’m not judging you, Kane. I told you. You can trust me.”
“I fucking trust you, Lilah. We’ve had this conversation. It’s not about trust. What you don’t know can’t hurt you.”
“Okay, damn it. Forget all of that. You’re about to explode right now. If that were me, I’d talk to you. I’d break the rules and talk to you. Talk to me.”
“My uncle is missing, Lilah. His right hand man wants to kill everyone he can find to kill, to make this right.”
“Oh fuck.”
“Yes. Oh fuck.”
“You have to take control.”
“Do you understand what you just said to me?”
“Come on, Kane. You are your father’s son. You are who they all wanted in his place. You can stop this.”
“What I want is to let them all kill themselves, but you know why I can’t?” He doesn’t give me time to respond. “Because the Society stepped back from the cartel. I made peace with Romano, despite knowing he killed my father for that very reason. I made peace with every enemy my father created, of which there were many, for that reason. And the minute we’re fighting amongst ourselves, the Society eats us alive.”
“You already are in control, or you couldn’t have made peace. Do what you have to do and don’t hide it from me.”
“You can’t be FBI and be with me if I’m pulled deeper into this.”
“You already are. We both know it.” I step to him. “I’m not giving you permission to be a monster. I’m telling you that I will keep you in the middle. I’m not leaving again. You do what you need to do.”
“Lilah, you don’t know—”
&nbs
p; “I know everything about you, even the things you don’t want me to know. I’m not leaving.”
He catches my head and kisses me. “Holy fuck, woman, I love you.”
“I love you, too. Now what?”
“Now we go to the party and show the Society we’re in control.”
“But what about your problem?”
“It’s contained, at least for the moment.”
A few minutes later, we step outside to find rain falling, and in it, I swear I see blood. Death is coming at us from all directions.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
I shared a love for the Metropolitan Museum with my mother. Now, believing my father might have been involved in her death, even indirectly, I resent his fundraiser being held there. There is, however, another part of me that finds the pink dress and location such a part of her that it’s necessary. Because she was necessary. She made herself matter. She was good. She was what I wish I could be and never can be, but Kane and I both need me to try at least a little right now.
We arrive at the event in a hired a car, and it’s not long until we’re inside a building of towering ceilings, amazing sculptures, and clusters of tuxedos and sparkling dresses. Of course, there are also banners and balloons that all say Love for Governor. There are also waiters with finger foods roaming the room, the kind of nasty shit no one really wants. “Why can’t they just give us chocolate and champagne?” I ask.
Kane catches a waiter with a tray of the latter. I accept a glass. “One of the two,” he says. “Better than nothing.”
“Do you know what I want?”
“To be the hell out of here?”
“Aside from that. I want to go see the dinosaurs. We should sneak out.”
“Let’s show our faces and then we’ll find the dinosaurs.” He offers me his arm, and we start the torturous process of greeting people who are all giddy over my father. “You must be so proud!” one woman says. “He’ll be incredible!” another says.
“Shoot me and bury me beside my mother,” I murmur.
“Can’t do that,” Kane says. “You aren’t leaving me, remember?”
I’d reply but Houston steps in front of us.