Chapter Twelve
Kat sucked in a breath and turned away from Stephen, finding it too painful to look at him any longer. She choked on the denial that was on the tip of her tongue, unable to force the words out. Because the minute he’d shouted those words, she knew he was right. A truth she hadn’t even realized. She had needed Ethan.
And that must have killed Stephen.
All the fight went out of her, leaving her head spinning. She closed her eyes and as much as she tried to block the memories, they flashed through her mind. Ethan nearly ripping her from Stephen’s arms, the way she’d clung to him, the overwhelming relief when she’d felt his arms wrap around her, holding her so close, so tight, knowing he’d never let her go, never let anything or anybody harm her again.
But later that night, it had been Stephen she’d been crying for. Was still crying for a week later.
She needed them both.
Oh, God.
“If I made the wrong decision, Kat, I’m sorry,” Stephen whispered softly as he came up behind her. In her heart, she knew hadn’t made the wrong decision, not at that moment. Stephen didn’t touch her, but she could feel the heat from his body as if he’d wrapped his arms around her. “Hurting you is last thing I ever wanted, the very thing I was trying to avoid. Tell me you can understand that, can see that.”
Too afraid to speak in case her voice broke, Kat watched the sun glinting off the Hudson River, willing her mind to go blank. The scenery was breathtaking, boaters taking advantage of the hot summer afternoon, bobbing in the water as they waited for their turn at the docks. A sole water skier got in a last run before the sun set, which all worked to remind Kat of all the other times they’d spent of Stephen’s terrace, reminded her of the peace she’d once felt here.
She could use a little of that peace now.
“I understand,” she whispered, finding her voice. “But I’d already told you once before that I didn’t see your father when I looked at you. Why would you think this was any different?”
“Learning my father was guilty of withholding evidence is not the same thing as watching my grandfather killing you right before my eyes,” Stephen said, the anger he was trying so desperately to contain coming through. “Not the same as knowing my family destroyed yours.”
Kat sucked in a deep breath. “And in return, I destroyed yours.”
“No,” he hissed the word, then immediately lowered his voice, grabbing her arms so she had no choice but to look at him, but dropping them as soon as she was facing him again. “He did that.”
“And you left, letting me believe you blamed me.”
Stephen sucked in a deep breath as she stared at his spot on his massive chest. “Jesus, Kat, tell me that’s not true,” he breathed. “Tell me you never believed that.”
She looked up, met his eyes. He was aching inside, just as much as she was. He lifted his hand, brought it back down without touching her. In all these weeks, she hadn’t thought about his side, the agony he was going through. “What was I supposed to think?”
“And now you know why.” Stephen ran his hands through is hair. They’d come full circle, yet nothing was solved.
“Yeah, now. But that doesn’t erase all those nights when I couldn’t sleep. When I—” Jesus, she hadn’t meant to say those words aloud. Didn’t want him to know how badly he’d crushed her. She’d been half in love with him. Stephen had made her feel alive, body and soul, for the first time in six years, only to have him rip her heart out hours after he’d promised they’d get through it.
“I don’t know how to make this right between us.”
Or if that’s what you even want. Kat heard the question as if he’d said the words out loud, but she had no answer. He’d bared his soul, and she desperately searched for what was in her own.
“Stay tonight,” he whispered, his voice soft. “Give us time to fix this.”
Slowly, she lifted her head, the determined expression on his face making her shiver. It was a look she knew well, an arrogant foregone conclusion that said she’d be his. Despite herself, need tore through her even as she cursed the power he had over her, so much stronger than when they’d first met.
“I can’t.” The words were out of her mouth before she even knew she was going to say them. She needed time, knew from experience there was no way she could think with him anywhere near.
Stephen’s expression went blank as he backed up, giving her enough space to breathe, if only for a second. Because the next question that came out of his mouth? She wasn’t prepared, wasn’t sure of the answer.
“Are you in love with him, Kat?”
***
She hadn’t answered.
Stephen had bared his soul and she’d walked away, asked him to take her back to Ethan’s car. An unbearably awkward, five-minute ride, neither speaking a word.
There was no answer she could give him. Because no matter how much the truth hurt, she vowed she’d never lie to him again.
The thoughts swirling in her head were all over the place and she couldn’t tell which way was up. Right now, she didn’t trust either one of them. Didn’t trust Stephen wouldn’t walk away again. And for the first time in her life, didn’t completely trust Ethan.
Ethan.
Stephen had known all along, even when she refused to acknowledge it herself, those feelings buried so many years ago, never allowed to resurface. A truth she hadn’t even realized. A truth she was still trying to deny.
But that night, she had needed Ethan. Her heart cracked again, racing faster even as her head denied it, silently screaming no, no, no!
And Stephen, Jesus, she still wanted him desperately.
Was she really in love with two men?
Just like her mother.
And that ended so well, didn’t it?
Pulling into her driveway, the first thing she saw was Ethan’s old dented truck. Wishing she’d paid a little more attention to the alarm on her phone, Kat groaned in frustration. She couldn’t deal with the truth of how much she still needed him, couldn’t deal with thoughts that he’d been deceiving her for all these years.
Giving herself a few seconds, she took in a deep breath, tried to force a light tone to her voice when she got out of his car. “You brought pizza! Pineapple?”
Kat closed her door, making her way to Ethan’s truck. The smile pasted on her face was fake, her excited, easy tone, forced. Praying he wouldn’t see through it, she walked up the driveway to meet him, focusing on the box he held.
“Of course. Thought you might be hungry.”
“Starving.”
Ethan followed her up the stones to her front door, waiting while she punched in the code before pushing the door open. Jake ran down the stairs, meowing as if he hadn’t eaten in a month. Scooping him up in her arms, she scratched his head as she carried him to the kitchen and filled his dish. “How’re you doing? The rest of your family?”
Ethan shrugged as he placed the pizza box on the counter and reached into the cabinets to get plates, but not before she caught the grief in his eyes. Resisting the urge to offer comfort, she grabbed them each a soda before purposely sitting on the stool next to him instead of across. If Ethan noticed, he didn’t say anything, just opened the box, putting a slice on each of their plates. “As well as can be expected, I guess. They lost their sister.”
They had, Kat acknowledged. It didn’t matter that they hadn’t been related by blood. Again, Kat reached over, stopping just before she touched him, grabbing her bottle of soda instead. “Did the senator cancel his upcoming fundraiser?”
“No. He gave a press conference today, telling the public how saddened he was about the events of last night. He also said he was going to donate all of the proceeds to local and state police agencies to help fund Emma’s investigation.”
“That was…good of him.”
“His only option really. So, what’d you do today?” Ethan asked before taking another bite of his pizza.
She didn’t answer right away, taking her time chewing and swallowing her pizza. Now or never, she thought. Pulling the flash drive from her bag, she put it on the counter between them. Ethan stared at it like it was a coiled snake until the silence became oppressive. “Where did you get this?”
Never once in all their years of friendship had she doubted him, not for a second. But the bitterness in his tone was impossible to ignore. She refused to look at him, didn’t want to see the expression on his face, couldn’t bear seeing guilt, confirming what she’d learned. For the entire afternoon, she’d been trying to give him the benefit of the doubt, refusing to believe that he would deceive her this way.
She stood, ready to bring her plate to the sink, but Ethan moved fast, spinning in his stool and grabbing her waist, trapping her between his legs. Her plate dropped to the counter, crashing loudly against the granite, almost, but not quite covering her gasp of surprise.
“Where did you get it, Kat?”
“I’m assuming somebody dropped it into my bag at the party last night. It is yours, isn’t it?”
Ethan didn’t answer. He didn’t need to, his clenched his jaw confirming her suspicions. And breaking her heart. She wiggled out of his hold, her movements jerky as she rinsed off the plate that didn’t need to be rinsed and put it in the dishwasher, wishing she had something else to do with her hands.
When she turned back around, Ethan had her laptop in front of him, was already going through the files. Kat watched him, afraid to make a move as she watched him read, his anger growing with every passing second. She’d never seen him so angry before, was glad it wasn’t directed toward her.
Or so she thought.
“And you believed all this shit?” he asked, flinging his hand toward the computer as he stood, the stool nearly toppling over before he steadied it.
She wanted to say no, she hadn’t believed any of it, but the words wouldn’t come. There was so much anger and frustration in his voice, nerves tingled up her spine as he pinned her against the sink with his gaze. He stalked closer, his movements measured and slow. But it didn’t matter, there wasn’t enough time to escape.
“You remember what I told you all those years ago? The night of the fire?” He didn’t wait for her to respond. It was a story Kat had heard countless times before, repeated endlessly in those early days before she’d learned to trust him.
Ethan cupped her cheeks with both hands, his touch surprisingly gentle. Moving his thumbs under her chin, he tilted her face up so she was forced to meet his gaze. Even though she felt like a child, she lowered her lashes, too afraid he’d see everything she felt.
“Open your eyes, Kat.” He waited until she did. “When my father was killed, I went a little crazy,” Ethan began. “Grief, anger, and denial raging until it consumed me. Only two days had passed, two days that felt like a lifetime, when I found myself in my father’s home office.”
He’d ransacked it, looking for somebody, anybody, to blame for his father’s death, she remembered. “Notes from your parent’s case were all over his desk. Detailed notes that told me he wasn’t buying the story circling through the rest of the law enforcement community. In my grief-riddled mind, I thought I found my answer even though it didn’t make any sense.” Because Chief of Police Thomas O’Rourke hadn’t been shot, beaten, or anything else that pointed to blatant murder. He’d been killed by a drunk driver when he’d been helping another motorist who’d gotten stuck in a snowstorm. Unfortunately, the driver had also died at the scene, unable to answer questions.
“When I raced to your parent’s house on the slopes, saw it in flames, heard you screaming for help, I was convinced there was more going on. It was an easy connection to make. Somebody had just silenced my father, was obviously trying to silence you. But months later, after the worst of the grief subsided, after I researched the crap out of the man who hit him, I knew my father’s accident was just that. An accident. It was just pure luck that I was there that night.” He paused, rested his forehead against hers. “And I thank God for that every single day.”
“Why are you telling me this again?” she whispered. Even she could hear the desperation in her voice, needing to believe him.
“Because it’s the truth, Kat. Not Emma’s lies you found on that flash drive.”
“She made it sound like you knew about my mother’s affair all along,” Kat said. “She made it sound like your father tipped off the judge after I went to him for help, that he was involved in the cover-up.”
Ethan sighed and before she could protest, he lifted her up and carried her to the living room, settling her on his lap, facing him. Stephen’s favorite interrogation position, she thought, trying to wiggle free. But Ethan held firm, his hands tightening on her waist.
“I know, sweetheart. And that was exactly what Emma wanted you to believe. She was a master manipulator, knew how to twist words, how to tell the story she wanted to tell. This morning’s newscast proves that.”
It did, Kat agreed. Emma had ensured the entire viewing area would question Stephen’s integrity, had withheld the one piece of information that would have saved him.
“There’s more,” Ethan said. “You know Emma and I had a brief relationship.”
Kat nodded when Ethan didn’t continue.
“You also know the circumstances surrounding that relationship.”
How could she forget? Ethan had found out about her mother’s affair with William Chandler six months before Kat and hadn’t told her. Emma had been sleeping with Stephen at the time and Ethan had used her affection for him to get her away from Stephen.
He’d tried the same thing with her.
“I know what you’re thinking, and you’re wrong. But we’re gonna table that discussion for now in light of what you saw in those computer files.”
Her heart skipped a couple beats. “I underestimated how deep Emma’s feelings for me ran. I thought she just wanted a fling. Thought she’d be okay with that.”
Another thing she’d learned about Ethan recently, Kat thought, lowering her lashes, wishing he’d let her escape. This was one area of their lives they never discussed and Kat had no desire to discuss their relationships now. Not that Kat had ever had a relationship, sexual or otherwise, until Stephen. But Ethan had plenty of them, apparently none ever lasting more than a week.
“As soon as I realized how she felt, I ended things between us. I never meant to hurt her, play with her feelings that way. After you left, went back to the city, she became…unhinged.”
Funny, Kat had used that same word to describe Emma after she’d accosted her in the hospital.
“I’ll save you the details, but it got pretty bad. She broke into my house, ransacked it really. Found pictures of us, ripped them to shreds and scattered them all over the place. I assume that’s when she found my flash drive.”
“Why didn’t you go to the police?”
Ethan sighed. “I felt responsible. Guilty even. She was so much a part of my sister’s lives, my life, I just…couldn’t do that to her. I was trying to give her time, thought maybe it would pass. But then she started threatening you.”
Kat gasped. “Me? I knew she didn’t like me—”
“It was more than that. She became obsessed, I think. Started making false accusations against me, my father. She said she was going to use the information on the drive to destroy me, destroy us.”
“Us?” Kat breathed, looking up at him again. “But there is no us.”
Ethan’s hands tightened again. Was that…anger? It was gone too fast for her to read. “Emma believed differently. And she wanted you to believe everything between us was a lie. Wanted you to believe my father was involved in your parents’ murder.” He blew out a breath, loosening his grip on her waist when he realized how hard he’d been gripping her. “Had I known she was going to be at the party last night, I would never have brought you. I knew having you here was a risk, but I thought I could keep her away from you for one lousy week.” Ethan reached up, burying his hand in her hair. “And I couldn’t bring myself to cancel our plans, not when I’ve missed you so much.”
Kat’s heart thumped. “The wine?”
Ethan smiled, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “Not an accident,” he admitted. “I needed to get her out of there. Away from you.”
Kat absorbed that. “Is that why you’ve been avoiding me?”
“I couldn’t take the chance, sweetheart,” he said softly, tangling his hand at the nape of her neck before placing a gentle kiss her on the forehead. “She was always there, seemed to know everything I did, everywhere I went.”
Kat remembered the million phone calls from Emma she’d dodged over the past few weeks, phone calls she’d thought were for the story. “She didn’t know where I lived.”
“No. And I wasn’t going to lead her to you. Allen was right about one thing this morning. I’d do anything in my power to protect you.”
Even kill Emma?
The thought passed through her mind as she rested her head against his shoulder. Ethan was a hero, not a killer. She snuggled deeper into his arms, breathing in his scent as he trailed his hands up and down her back. And she melted into him, her body boneless with relief. How could she have ever doubted him, even for a minute?