“Can I help you?” she asked, her tone contrasting sharply with her question. Then she looked up from the computer, surprise etching her features when she saw Kade. She smiled, her gaze taking him in. “What can I do for you?” This time, her question was far more friendly.

Kade paused, then asked, “When’s your next flight to Indianapolis?” Which is how he found himself sitting in first class on a flight headed to the one place he shouldn’t go.

With the takeoff came lucidity and rational thought.

What the hell was he doing?

He’d left. Left her. Now he was going to . . . what? Just show up? She was with Blane. He’d take care of her, protect her. Kade wasn’t needed or wanted.

But he had to say goodbye.

He was sitting alone in first class, finishing his third drink, when the flight attendant came by to tell him they would be landing soon.

Excitement and dread churned along with the vodka in his stomach. Kade couldn’t help the feeling of anticipation, of getting to see her again, but he also knew it was going to be like salt on an open wound. She’d be angry, he knew that, which would help. But leaving her this time would be permanent. Maybe she’d forgive him? He’d like to take that to his grave rather than her enmity and disgust.

It was late in the evening by the time Kade showed up at Kathleen’s. He’d gone by his apartment first, replenishing his duffel bag with clothes and taking a final look at the place. He wouldn’t be back.

Now he sat in the parking lot of Kathleen’s run-down apartment building, staring up at her darkened windows. She wasn’t home. Maybe she was working.

The thought made his gut tighten. He’d given her enough money, she shouldn’t have to work, much less at a job that meant she had to be half naked and pour booze for too many ogling assholes.

He’d wait for her, Kade decided, finally getting out of the car. A quick goodbye at The Drop was not how he wanted her to remember him.

In a few moments, he was inside her apartment. He didn’t turn on any lights, letting his eyes adjust to the dim glow of the streetlamps filtering in through the open blinds.

Instantly, he sensed something was off. The smell was slightly musty, like the windows hadn’t been opened in a while and the AC was set too high to keep the air circulating. And where was Tigger? The cat had always hurried to greet him when he came through the door, acting more like a dog than a feline should. But there was no sign of him.

Kade moved with purpose now, heading back to the bedroom. He flicked on the light, then pulled open the closet door.

Most of her clothes were gone.

It was like a punch to the gut.

She’d gone, moved out. Most likely moved in with Blane.

Kade should be glad. His plan had worked. She’d be safe. Their child would be safe. So why did he feel like every breath he took was an effort, each heartbeat now counting against an imaginary clock inside his head?

He sucked in a lungful of air on a choked gasp, not realizing he’d been holding his breath. Backing away from the closet, he stood, staring at the empty space around him. He saw her personal things were gone, too. Pictures of her parents that had been displayed on her bureau, knickknacks she’d set on her bedside table, the books that had been stacked in the corner.

Kade’s eyes stung. Holy shit, he would absolutely not cry. No fucking way. Kade Dennon did not fucking cry.

And yet his vision grew more blurry, until he couldn’t swallow past the growing lump in his throat.

With a roar of pure rage, Kade turned and slammed his fist through the drywall, the thin Sheetrock crumbling at the unexpected onslaught. Pain exploded in his hand and coursed up his arm, but Kade didn’t feel it. The anger burned away all other feelings, emotions he had no desire to deal with.

Pulling his hand from the hole in the wall—there went Kathleen’s security deposit—Kade flexed his fingers, realizing with a distant surprise that he hadn’t broken anything. The anger was leaching away, leaving a calm detachment in its wake. She was at Blane’s. So that’s where he’d go.

In the car on the way to Blane’s, Kade tried not to think of how his last meeting with his brother had gone. Chances were pretty good that Blane wouldn’t let him past the front door, much less in to say goodbye to Kathleen. Not after the things Kade had said last time . . .

Deciding not to give Blane the opportunity to refuse him admittance, Kade went around back. He was a little surprised that his key still worked. For some reason, he’d assumed Blane would have changed the locks by now, for precisely this reason.

The temptation to just head upstairs and see if he could catch Kathleen alone was strong, and Kade hesitated at the stairway. But it felt wrong to sneak behind Blane’s back. She was his now, and despite the chilly reception Kade was sure to receive, he owed it to Blane to show his face.

Light shone around the doorway to the den, proof that Blane was inside and maybe Kathleen as well. Kade reached for the handle, noticing a fine tremor of his hand. Taking a deep breath, he slowly opened the door.

He’d been half right. Blane was in there, seated at his desk, but not Kathleen. A sharp sting of disappointment pricked Kade.

Blane looked up and his eyes narrowed as his gaze took in Kade, who hadn’t moved from the doorway.

Neither spoke. After a moment, Blane pushed back his chair and came striding around the desk. Kade stiffened his spine, bracing himself for another tussle with his brother. Not that he wanted to fight back. Actually, Kade decided that if Blane wanted to beat the shit out of him, he wouldn’t lift a finger to stop him.

Blane’s face was unreadable as he approached, then to Kade’s utter disbelief, his brother threw his arms around him, jerking him close and hugging him so tight it constricted the air in his lungs.

“Thank God,” Blane murmured. “Thank God you’re all right.”

Shock left Kade speechless and he just stood there. Blane and he didn’t hug. Ever. They just . . . didn’t. Blane had learned early on that Kade was averse to close physical contact and he’d never forgotten it. But now, at this moment when Kade had expected the exact opposite response from Blane, he lifted his arms to hug Blane in return. His hand awkwardly gave a rough pat to Blane’s back before he could no longer stop the compulsion to pull away. Blane released him, but seemed reluctant to do so.

Blane took a step back and Kade finally spoke. “I must say, that wasn’t quite the welcome I expected.” His voice was rougher than usual.

“I haven’t been able to reach you since you left nearly a month ago,” Blane said. “I’ve been going out of my mind with worry. Your phone’s disconnected, you don’t answer your e-mail. What the hell, Kade?”

“Had to go off the grid for a while,” Kade said evasively.

“I’m hoping you’ve come to your senses and are done acting like a fucking prick,” Blane said. “But for now, I’ll just settle for the fact that you’re alive and you’re here.”

“I thought I wasn’t your brother anymore,” Kade retorted, remembering just how deeply those words had cut.

“I was really pissed,” Blane admitted. “Then I had some time to think about it and realized how freaked out you must’ve been. I know we don’t spill our guts to each other, but I’d like to think the Kade I know wouldn’t walk out on the woman he loves, especially not when she’s carrying his child.”

Shame crept through Kade, along with a burning desire to tell Blane the truth. But he couldn’t, so he kept his mouth shut.

“Am I right? Please tell me that’s why you’re here.”

Kade swallowed, then gave a minute shake of his head. “I came to say goodbye. Hoped you’d let me tell her goodbye.”

Blane frowned. “What?”

“I didn’t get to, and I’d like to. I’m . . . going away, and this time I won’t be back.”

“Going away? Where the hell are you going?”

Kade shrugged. Unable to meet Blane’s eyes, he gazed instead over his brother’s shoulder. “Just . . . away.”

Blane’s face paled as realization appeared to seep in. His jaw locked. “Oh no, you’re not,” he said. “I don’t care if I have to lock you up in the goddamn basement, you’re not leaving here. Not until you tell me what the fuck is going on.”

“Where’s Kathleen?” Kade asked instead. “Is she upstairs?” He glanced over his shoulder, already inching out the door. The burning need to see her had increased a hundredfold since he’d set foot in Indy.

“She’s not here,” Blane said, his voice stiff.

“Oh,” Kade said, disappointed yet again. “Will she come here after work or will she go to her apartment?”

“She’s not at work, either, Kade,” Blane replied, tiredly shoving a hand through his hair. “I don’t know where she is.”

Now it was Kade’s turn to be confused. “What are you talking about?”

“We’re not together,” Blane said baldly. “She loves you, not me, and nothing I said or did was enough to change her mind.”

It was the second time that night that Kade had been struck speechless, which had to be a record.

“But . . . I saw you,” he said at last. “That night. I saw you go to her apartment. Then she left, heading here.”

Blane’s eyes narrowed. “If I’d known you were hiding in the bushes like a fucking Peeping Tom, I’d have dragged your ass in there and made you break her heart yourself. She didn’t come here, Kade. She went to your place that night.”

“My place?”

“Yes, your place,” Blane repeated, pushing a finger hard into Kade’s chest. “Which is where I found her almost twenty-four hours later, practically catatonic.”

The accusation in Blane’s voice was hard to miss.

Now guilt warred with shame inside Kade, and underneath that, a hint of relief. Kathleen hadn’t forgotten about him. She hadn’t just wanted to be with him because of the baby. She really did love him.

“Where is she now?” he managed to ask. He had to see her, touch her. Then he had to be an utter dick to her and make her hate him, convince her to go back to Blane. The thought was a shard of ice in his gut.

“That’s what I’m trying to tell you,” Blane said with exaggerated patience. “I don’t know. She left, over three weeks ago now, and didn’t tell anyone where she was going. She just vanished one night. I’ve tried her phone—it’s always turned off. I’ve left dozens of messages. I know she needed some space, but hell”—Blane shoved his hands in his pockets—“I hate not knowing where she is.”

Kade had stopped listening after “just vanished one night.” Panic struck, and struck hard.

“You let her go?” he asked, his voice loud.

Blane frowned. “I didn’t let her do anything,” he said. “She left, Kade. Short of keeping her a prisoner, what the hell was I supposed to do? I didn’t even know she was thinking of leaving. One day she was just . . . gone.”

Adrenaline poured through Kade in a cold rush. Where could she have gone? And that was assuming she’d gone of her own free will. What if Keaston had found out that she’d left Blane? He could have had her killed, her body dumped somewhere no one would find it.

He grabbed the neck of Blane’s shirt with both hands, the fabric crumpling in his fists as he hauled him close until they were nose to nose. “Did you tell Keaston?” he bit out, fury riding close on the heels of panic. “Did you?”

“I spoke to him yesterday,” Blane said, jerking out of Kade’s grip. “What’s going on? Kade, tell me.”

But Kade was already striding toward the front door, thinking. Keaston knew, but Kathleen had disappeared three weeks ago. The most important question was to make sure Kathleen had left of her own free will and hadn’t been kidnapped. If she’d been taken—

Kade couldn’t stand to finish that thought and he hit his car at a near run, vaulting behind the wheel and peeling out of the driveway in a squeal of tires and the smell of burning rubber. Glancing in the rearview mirror, he saw Blane standing in the driveway, watching.

It took thirty minutes to get from Blane’s house to Kathleen’s apartment. Kade made it in fifteen. He took the stairs two at a time. A frigid calm had settled over him in the wake of his earlier panic. He could find her. He would find her. It was what he did best, finding people who didn’t want to be found. And he knew just where to start.

* * *

Light suddenly poured through Alisha’s closed eyes, yanking her from a dead sleep, and she woke with a confused start. Her hand reached out to where Lewis was stretched beside her, also fast asleep, but he was no longer there.