“I’ll avenge this,” Blane murmured, lifting his face to mine. “I swear it.”

His lips moved over mine, the faint tang of my blood on his tongue. When we parted, I rested my head against his shoulder.

I was still sick with worry about what was going to happen to Blane, but being wrapped in his arms calmed me. His hand brushed over my hair and his lips pressed against my forehead.

“Don’t let me interrupt.”

I jerked away from Blane with a gasp and turned to see that Kade had silently entered the hallway. His face was cold and blank. I took an uncomfortable step backward up the stairs, putting some space between Blane and me.

“Did you get it?” Blane asked.

“Of course I did,” Kade said, stopping at the foot of the stairs. “He wasn’t even home. Piece of cake.”

“He wasn’t at home because he was busy assaulting Kathleen at work,” Blane said.

Kade’s head whipped around, his blue eyes locking on mine.

“What happened?” he asked.

“I was able to get his DNA,” I said, locking my arms tightly over my chest again. “Other than that, I don’t want to talk about it.” I wouldn’t put it past Kade to slit James’s throat like Blane almost had—only I wouldn’t be able to stop Kade as I had Blane. “I’m tired. I’m going to bed.”

I turned and jogged up the stairs, hoping that would put an end to any more questions. I just wanted to forget the whole thing. It had scared me, not only the threat from James but the realization of how far I’d been willing to go to help Blane. What did that mean? I loved him, that was true, but did it mean I was still in love with him? Or did it just mean I was colossally stupid?

I didn’t want to answer that question.

I got a good look at James’s handiwork in my bathroom mirror. Livid cuts formed an uppercase J between my breasts. But it would heal. And I chose to think of the J as standing for Justice rather than James. I hoped I’d done my part in helping bring Kandi’s killer to justice. That made me feel better. Sort of.

The red imprints of James’s fingers stood out around my throat, easier to see if I pulled back my hair. And my stomach was sore from his punch. I sighed.

Was being in constant danger and getting hurt worth it if I got to be with Kade and Blane? And did it mean I had a death wish if my answer to that was a resounding Yes?

The shower I took was long and hot, and if there was more than water wetting my cheeks, what did it matter? There was no one there to see. I didn’t want to look at the cut on my chest again, so I shrugged into a button-down shirt to sleep in rather than my pajamas. I could button it up nearly to my chin.

I crawled under the covers and stared at the ceiling. I couldn’t sleep. In my head, I kept replaying everything I knew about the night Kandi had died. Something didn’t fit, but I couldn’t put my finger on what it was.

She’d been secretly sleeping with James but had also been available for God-knew-how-many booty calls with Blane. Blane had gone to her home that night and had sex with her, though the cops didn’t know that. It couldn’t be his semen on her body because, as he’d said, he’d used a condom. So James must have stopped by after Blane left. He’d found out about Blane—maybe she’d told him—then what? He’d gone crazier than he usually was? Strangled and smothered her, then raped her?

I shuddered, remembering the feel of his hand around my throat. James had certainly seemed to enjoy hurting me. It wasn’t that far of a stretch to see him doing all that to Kandi.

If the cops could match the semen to James, then it would be proof that someone else had been there that night. If nothing else, that was reasonable doubt.

My thoughts were interrupted when the door to my room opened. I knew who was there and didn’t move as Kade stepped inside, silently closing the door behind him.

He moved to my bedside, gazing down at me. He must have seen I was awake, because he asked, “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine,” I said. I could make a drinking game out of how often I said that phrase.

Kade reached over and flipped on the bedside lamp. I squinted in the sudden glow, but it wasn’t that bright. He sank down onto the bed next to me.

“Where’s your nightgown?” he asked, toying with the collar of the shirt I wore.

I shrugged. “I’m glad you didn’t run into any trouble at James’s,” I said.

“Easy in, easy out,” he replied absently, but his eyes were on my throat.

His fingers moved to the buttons of my shirt, sliding them through the holes. He’d already undone three when I grabbed his wrist.

“What are you doing?”

“Blane told me what James did,” he answered, swiftly undoing the shirt’s buttons despite my hold on him. “Show me.”

I swallowed hard but couldn’t disobey. Keeping my eyes on his, I slowly parted the fabric of the shirt just enough so he could see the cut. His gaze dropped.

“It’s not that bad,” I said, swallowing hard again at the look on Kade’s face.

“You’re one tough chick,” he said finally.

“I don’t feel like one,” I confessed.

“Did you smear some bacon grease on his dick, dump him in the alley, and blow a dog whistle?” he asked.

I huffed a laugh. “Wish I’d thought of that.”

Kade’s shoes thudded to the floor and he pulled back the covers. “Move over,” he said.

“What are you doing?” I asked, even as I scooted over to make room for him.

He turned off the light and lay down next to me. “I’m tired,” he said with a sigh, draping one arm carefully over my middle. His breath was warm against my neck.

“You have your own bed, you know,” I gently reminded him, not that I was overly upset that he was in mine.

“Need to have you near me,” he said. “Know you’re okay.”

Yeah, I knew the feeling.

I started to button my shirt again, but his hands stilled mine. “Leave it.”

Probably not a good idea. But his hand was warm and reassuring against my skin, and his body, stretched alongside mine, made me feel safe. I smiled and closed my eyes.

“I promised you fireworks,” Kade whispered in my ear.

“Hmmm?” I said drowsily. I was really relaxed, though I could tell from the brightness against my eyelids that it was morning.

“I promised you fireworks and I didn’t deliver,” he said.

I patted his arm still wrapped around me. “S’okay. Next year.”

“I can’t promise you next week, much less next year,” he murmured. The warm heat of his mouth brushed my neck, my shoulder.

“Don’t say that,” I said automatically.

He paused. “Tell me what happened in Vegas.”

My eyes flew open and I stiffened, coming fully awake now. “You know what happened in Vegas,” I said, pretending ignorance.

“I mean, why did I find buttons from my shirt you wore on the floor of my room?”

My pulse shot into overdrive. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I stammered.

Kade’s hand disappeared for a moment. I heard the rustle of cloth. Then he was placing something in my palm.

“I’ve carried this with me since Vegas,” he said, “trying to remember.”

He’d given me a button. I realized that must be what I’d seen him looking at several times since we’d gotten back. I squeezed my eyes shut. This couldn’t be happening.

“Please tell me. It’s driving me insane,” he rasped. “I have these scenarios in my head, and I’m terrified that I hurt you, or forced you—”

Oh God, I couldn’t talk about this. If I did, even to alleviate his concerns, it would all come out. Panic struck. “I’m going to shower,” I said, jumping out of bed and hurrying to the closet. I grabbed a pair of short denim cutoffs and a white tank before disappearing into the bathroom.

Over half an hour later, when I came out dressed for the day, I was hoping Kade would be gone. No such luck. In fact, things were much, much worse.