Guardian Angel (20 page)

“JC Davis showed up at the shelter this morning with a thousand dollars cash,” she said matter of factly, her light silvery eyes finally meeting Kane’s.  He showed no response.

“He and his friend, Kenny, were seen a short while later loading some bags into Kenny’s POS Honda for what looked like some kind of extended road trip.”

Kane blinked slowly, lazily, reminding her of a great black panther with icy blue eyes.  His eyes moved toward the window and he looked out, bored. 

“Johnny Fielding, the usual third to their unholy trinity, wasn’t with them.”

Kane’s gaze drifted back to hers, so hard, so cold, she unwittingly sucked in a breath.  Nicki swallowed and looked quickly back down to her coffee.  “So it’s like that, is it?” she whispered.

“Like what?”

Nicki nodded.  She was no shrinking violet; she had seen more violence and evil in her life than most people.  And she was married to Sean Callaghan.  She knew what he and his brothers did, what she now did beside them.  She’d even heard the stories about Kane; the hushed comments about his capacity for coldness, his sheer unbreakableness.  But she’d never quite believed it. 

Not until now.

The look in Kane’s eyes was one she would never forget.  It was like icy fire, a promise of painful, tormented death.  But this was even harder, even colder, because the punishment had already been meted out.  She knew then that Johnny Fielding would never be seen or heard from again.

Kane’s gaze flicked back to the window.  For the briefest of instances, Nicki saw a spark in his eyes.  His nostrils flared, and he seemed to grow right before her eyes, though she was sure he hadn’t moved.  She turned her head toward the window and saw what had grabbed his attention so fully.  A small, fragile-looking figure, bundled up in a full-length down coat.  Traces of honey-colored hair fanned out from the faux-fur lining of the hood, pulled up and over to obscure the face of the wearer.  The woman walked slowly, hesitantly, with a decided limp.  A great beast walked beside her, a mass of untidy fur that resembled a shaggy black bear.  Outside the bookstore, she leaned down and said something to him.  The creature immediately sat on his haunches while she disappeared inside.

It was exactly why Nicki had chosen this particular coffee shop at this particular time.  She knew Rebecca would be making her weekly trip there. 

“You really love her, don’t you?”

When the woman was no longer visible, Kane turned back to Nicki.  The eyes, so cold and lethal only a few moments earlier, now held immense pain.  Nicki glimpsed it only briefly before it was shuttered away again.  She doubted anyone else would have noticed, but she had been trained to recognize even the slightest changes in a person’s bearing.  The skill had saved her life on more than one occasion.

“She’s lost without you, you know,” Nicki said, choosing to look into her coffee rather than meet Kane’s laser-like stare.  Even she felt uncomfortable before its powerful intensity, and very little rattled her.  “It’s like part of her is missing or something.”

They sat in silence until Rebecca re-emerged from the bookstore.  The dog nuzzled her hand and they began walking away.  Kane shifted a millimeter or so in his seat, but that was the only indication that he had seen her.

Nicki sighed.  She wasn’t sure exactly what she had expected, but it was certainly not this.  She’d hoped that seeing Rebecca would motivate him to do something.  Maybe not jump from his seat and rush out into the street, but something.

“What do you want from me?” Kane asked quietly as if reading her thoughts.

“She needs you.  I think you might need her, too.”

Kane just stared at her.  Nicki drank the last of her coffee and stood up to leave.  “I like Rebecca.  We all do.  She belongs here.  With us.  With you.  Do something about it before it’s too late.”

And then Nicki was gone, allowing herself to breathe again as she stepped out into the street, feeling the steely blade of Kane’s eyes until she moved out of sight.

H
e wasn’t going to go to Maggie and Mick’s for Thanksgiving.  He wasn’t.  Really.  There were plenty of other opportunities to see Rebecca.  He’d learned her routine quite well, as a matter of fact.  Every morning she and her beast walked to the shelter, then back in the early afternoon.  On Fridays she visited the bookstore.  On Wednesdays she frequented the local market.  Every evening she sat home alone, reading, or, more accurately, staring off into space.

And yet somehow, despite his promises to himself, he found himself at his brother’s, sitting in his truck, parked among the trademark black vehicles of the Callaghan clan outside the two hundred year old sprawling farmhouse.  There was Michael’s black Jag, Jake’s Expedition, Sean’s Shelby, Shane’s Lexus, Kieran’s Porsche, Ian’s Land Rover, Jack’s Infinity.  Adding a slight variation of color was Aidan’s dark green Benz, and a tiny silver Prius that could only be Rebecca’s.

She was saving the world, even while driving.

And then, without even realizing he had moved, he was at the front door, pressing the bell, the compulsion to be close to her so strong he had no choice but to obey it.

It was Michael who opened the door.  A brief look of surprise was followed immediately by a heartfelt grin.  “Glad you made it,” Michael said warmly, taking his jacket.  Maggie poked her head out of the kitchen and flashed him a brilliant smile before giving him a hug and welcoming him. 

The women had commandeered the kitchen, so after being permitted to offer a brief hello, Kane was quickly ushered out and herded to the living room, where the males of the clan had gathered before the flat screen.  He was quite sure he had never received quite so many grateful, relieved greetings.  Clearly, they had already accepted Rebecca and were feeling protective of her themselves, though out of respect for Kane they would allow him to lead. 

In a matter of seconds he’d acknowledged everyone, except the one he was looking for.

“She’s in the playroom,” Jake said quietly, clapping a brief hand on Kane’s shoulder as he passed by.

Kane stood silently in the shadows of the doorway.  There she was.  Dressed in a long brown skirt and a soft beige sweater, her honey-gold hair was partially controlled with some sort of clip.  She was smiling in that gentle way she had, but there was a sadness in her eyes, too, as she followed the progress of something out of his line of sight.

Gales of childlike giggles and squeals met his ears.  He leaned in a little farther and saw the source of the amusement.  The huge, bear-like creature, standing nearly three feet tall at the shoulder, with a toddler on his back, laughing hysterically.

“Uncle Kane!” Patrick squealed, making a beeline for him, followed immediately by Ryan (crawling).  Riley, ever the princess, leaned down and spoke into the beast’s ear.  The animal lowered his rear haunches, allowing her to slide down with far too much grace for one so young.  Then she, too, joined her cousins in greeting him.

Kane crouched down, accepting hugs from each of them. 

When he looked up again, the great monster had positioned itself in front of Rebecca, looking at Kane with mild interest as if he was simply the next attraction to command the attention of the little ones.  Sitting, the top of the dog’s massive head nearly reached her chest.  Her hand stroked behind his ears affectionately. 

She looked smaller, frailer somehow.  Her skin was a bit paler, her cheeks a little less pink than he remembered.  Her hair was shorter than the last time he had seen her, parted off center and draped silkily over the side of her face.

“Hi,” Rebecca said tentatively, almost as if she was afraid.  The dog – if, indeed, you could call it that – turned his head to look at her, then back at Kane.  The lolling pink tongue was drawn in, the ears grew alert, his interest greater now that someone else had captured his mistress’s attention.

“Hi,” he said.

A long silence stretched between them, broken only by the sounds of the children, and more distant sounds from the game further down the hall.  Rebecca shifted her weight slightly from one foot to the other, threading her hands through the beast’s fur like it was a lifeline.  He’d never seen her anxious before – not in the jungles of Namibia, not in the midst of a raging flood, and not when it had been only the two of them in a remote location deep in the mountains.  Yet here, in his brother’s house, surrounded by friends and family for a Thanksgiving celebration, she was afraid.  Of him.

It was so inherently wrong it was difficult to grasp.  No matter what, Rebecca should
never
feel uncomfortable around him.  She was the only one who had ever
not
looked at him like he was the Iceman. 

He had been a fool.  He had let himself believe that he was protecting her by pretending there was nothing between them, but now he knew the truth.  Having her look at him like that hurt worse than any bullet he’d ever taken; any torture he’d ever endured.

Maggie’s voice rang out from the kitchen, announcing that dinner was ready and inviting everyone into the dining room.  Parents came for their kids, shooting the two of them looks but wisely refraining from comment, leaving Kane and Rebecca alone at opposite sides of the playroom.

Rebecca bit her lip uncertainly, then took a step forward.  The beast stood and mimicked her actions.  She moved slowly, cautiously, her hand on the back of the dog for support.  Her limp, though slight, was unmistakable.  An icy cold began to blossom somewhere deep inside Kane’s center, spreading outward with every halting step she took.

As Rebecca neared him, she dropped her head, unable or unwilling to meet his eyes.  He stepped back slightly to allow her to pass, fighting the urge to crush her to him and kiss her until she looked at him like she used to.  That’s when he saw what her new hairstyle had been concealing from across the room – the faded, mottled spots from the beating she had taken several weeks earlier.

Kane couldn’t help himself.  Without conscious thought, one hand grasped her upper arm while the other brushed back her hair, revealing a line of shadows that ran the length of her face, only partially concealed beneath makeup she rarely wore.

“Jesus,” he whispered, his chest filling with so much rage his vision tinged red.  Jake had told him.  Nicki had told him.  Goddamn it, he had known she’d been hurt.  But nothing had prepared him for this, for actually seeing the evidence. 
Someone fucking hurt his woman.
  The realization hit him even harder, like a solid shot to the solar plexus with a wrecking ball. 

Rebecca Harrison was his croie.

As the roar in his ears began to subside there came another sound, a deep warning growl.  Simultaneously, Kane became aware of a steady pressure against his thighs as the big black monstrosity shouldered his body between them to separate them.

“S’okay, Angus,” she said softly, her graceful fingers reaching down to soothe the beast.  The growls stopped, but the dog did not budge.

She only met Kane’s eyes for a second, if that, but the message it held was strong enough to burn into his mind forever: 
It’s too late
, it said.

The hell it was.  Rebecca placed her hand over his; her fingers were stiff and cold.  This was not Rebecca’s touch; she was always so warm and soft.  So surprised was he that he allowed her to gently remove his hand from her arm.  Then she turned and took another step.  Away from him.  Out of his grasp.

At the doorway to the dining room, Rebecca asked the beast to wait.  Obediently, the dog sat down on his haunches, though his eyes did not leave his mistress.  Kane ran his hand over his face and exhaled.  What had he expected?  For her to leap into his arms at the sight of him?  Well, yes, that would have been nice.  He might have dreamed that at some point.  Maybe several times. 

But he had never imagined the bruises.  He hadn’t pictured her slow, hesitant steps to minimize the lingering pain of her injuries.  Or the look in her eyes.  Those big, soft, exotic brown eyes that had always looked at him with warmth and affection were now shielded and all but devoid of feeling. 

She’s lost without you.
  Nicki’s words resounded in his head as he tried to reconcile the loving, caring woman he’d known with the ghost he’d just seen. 
Jesus Christ.
  Rebecca Harrison loved him, and he’d turned her away. 

He took a minute to wash up in the hallway bathroom before going in to the dining room.  A splash of cold water or two might help him focus, might help him to see a way through this.  Because right now, after seeing her, hearing her voice, after being close enough to scent her and feel just a whisper of her fear, he didn’t seem to be capable of thinking of anything much at all.

* * *

R
ebecca thanked Michael and Maggie for inviting her, politely commenting on how wonderful everything looked and smelled.  It felt like someone else, some hollow, automated voice, was speaking for her. She made her apologies, explaining how she had promised to serve dinner down at the church’s food kitchen, and that she really had to be going.

Aidan stood, muttering a similar excuse.  He didn’t give her a chance to protest when he was suddenly beside her, his hand supportively at her back, leading her to her car with a promise to follow behind her in his.  She was not happy about it, but she would not embarrass either of them in front of the others.

* * *

A
ngus was not at his post when Kane re-emerged in the hallway.  No doubt he, much like Kane, found it difficult to keep his distance from Rebecca.  Right now he was probably at her feet beneath the table, anxiously awaiting any scraps she might send his way.  Kane knew just how he felt.  He would take the smallest glance, the barest hint of a smile, anything from her, as long as it was directed toward him.

Rebecca had always been so ... he struggled for the right word. 
Loving
was the only thing that seemed to come remotely close.  Her heart had always been so open.  Not just to him, but to everyone.  But not today.  Something had changed.  It was as incongruous as if the wind stopped blowing or the sun stopped shining.