Kayla froze in place. She sensed the import of his statement, understood this was as close a view inside Kane’s mind as she was likely to get. So she listened.
“There’s something in life called an edge…at least there is in my life. Without it, I’m no good as a cop and even worse as a man. Every time I’ve let my guard down in any way, things go wrong.”
The guilt thing again. She shook her head. “You aren’t responsible for what’s happened to me.”
“That’s not what you said earlier.”
“You know that wasn’t what I meant. I wasn’t blaming you.”
“Then maybe you should. Maybe both of you should,” he muttered.
“Who, Kane?” she asked quietly.
He shut his eyes before speaking. Deep grooves formed at the corners, testament to how difficult this upcoming admission would be. “I always came straight home from school. My mother was fragile, and she relied on me walking in the door at the same time every day. Even before my dad took off, routine was important to her. She got up, washed her hands, ate breakfast, washed her hands, watched TV, washed her hands, I came home, she…”
“Washed her hands,” Kayla finished for him.
He met her gaze.
“She sounds obsessive compulsive.”
He shrugged. “I guess she was, but I didn’t know the clinical term back then. She had good days and bad days, up days and down days.” He drew a deep breath. “If I came home from school when I was supposed to, she took her medication on time. And the one day I didn’t…”
She walked in front of a moving bus. Kane didn’t have to speak for Kayla to hear. His body shook in reaction to his unspoken words. She reached out and took his hand, silently offering comfort.
The man shouldered more responsibility than was necessary, more guilt than she’d ever imagined. “You said she had good days and bad days, Kane. Isn’t it possible she didn’t kill herself but got confused, or wasn’t looking? Did she leave a note?”
He shook his head. “Does it really matter? If I’d been home, it wouldn’t have happened.” His warm hand curled around hers. “And if I’d been thinking about my job and not preoccupied with my feelings for you, you wouldn’t have been attacked.”
Kayla tried to sort through his words, to hear past his misplaced guilt. He hadn’t let go of the boy who felt responsible for his only parent. He couldn’t accept it wasn’t an eleven-year-old’s job to be the adult of the household. While growing up, she and Catherine had borne too many adult responsibilities of their own and felt an out-of-proportion responsibility for each other. Kayla could relate to Kane’s life.
The emotional barriers, the distance, and the all-consuming need to control things around him—they all made a strange sort of sense to her now. She wasn’t sure she could ever undo the scars embedded in his past, no matter how much she wanted to.
In the library, he’d told her he was doing all he could do. That had to be enough. When the case was over, if he wanted to stay, she’d welcome him with open arms. If he wanted to walk away, she’d let him go.
He deserved to know he had that kind of freedom.
Chapter Nine
Her toes were painted pink. Ridiculous he would notice considering she sat deciphering books that put her life in danger. With all quiet for the moment, Kane leaned back in his seat, enjoying the view.
She chewed on the eraser head of a pencil, her shimmering lips pursed in thought. Maybe he could take just a quick taste. He shook his head, knowing it wouldn’t be enough to lessen the constant ache of arousal, nor would it ease the pressure in his chest that had been present since their earlier conversation.
When was the last time he’d thought of his mother, let alone discussed his past aloud? It had been a long time, and he’d never planned to do it again. But if soul-baring had given Kayla an explanation for his reluctance to take things further, dredging up the pain had been worthwhile. She’d spent too many years believing herself unworthy of more than an admiring glance or a groping hand. Better she understand he had the problem, not her.
Better he walked away from her knowing he’d given something in return.
“Sullivan, Mark.” Her voice brought him back to the present.
“Another big player,” Kane said. “He owns real estate all over the city.” They’d been at the books over two hours. Rather, she’d been at them.
He’d been watching. The shifting of her legs, drawing his attention to the warm place in between. The animation then the scowl of frustration crossing her face, resulting in a pout of her lips that made him desire more than a simple kiss. All in the name of the case, he reminded himself more than once, trying to push aside the things she made him feel.
The first book contained a list of female names that neither he nor Kayla recognized. The women, Kane assumed, who worked for Charmed!’s side business. The last few books produced a list of male names as impressive as it was extensive. Where before they only had an informant’s tip, they now had probable clients and their call girls. Thanks to Kayla’s intelligence and persistence.
As much as he’d fought against letting her handle things, he had to admire the results. He sure as hell admired the woman.
Kane was certain these highly placed, mostly married, men would talk. The more puzzle questions she answered, the longer the list of names had become. They covered all upper-crust walks of life. And none of these men would want the scandal sure to be caused if their private lives were made public.
“I need a break.” She stretched her legs out in front of her. Bare feet peeked from beneath narrowed jeans, and she wiggled her toes in a long stretch.
“Put it away for the night. You’ve still got the end of a concussion and
