Chapter Thirty-Four
Three days, Kat thought. It had been three long, horrible days since the night of the shooting. She’d woken in the ambulance on the way to the hospital, immediately panicked when she hadn’t seen Stephen, thinking he’d left her…
And then he was there, the paramedic moving out of the way to make room for him. “You’re okay,” he’d repeated, but that wasn’t what had scared her.
She’d told him about the email, told him she’d just gotten it before he slipped the paper over her phone…hadn’t had time to explain. And to her relief, Stephen had believed her, had stayed by her side until she’d been released in the wee hours of the morning, suffering only a sprained wrist and bruised face. Minor injuries, the doctor had said.
At least externally.
Inside, she still felt torn to shreds, filled with questions she had no answers for because Ethan had disappeared from the crime scene and hadn’t been seen since.
“Hush,” Stephen mumbled, tightening his arm as he buried his face in her hair, nipping her ear.
Kat chuckled, trying to hold on to the pleasure she’d woken up with, before reality had come crashing down, wondering how she’d ever be able to live with two extremes. Abject despair and absolute happiness could not coexist.
She moved slightly, rubbing her bottom against Stephen again, smiling when he groaned in her ear. She did it again until her breath caught, desire taking hold, pushing away everything else. She needed this right now. Needed him and this short moment of peace.
Stephen tightened his hand on her waist, stilling her, his breath tickling the hair by her ear when he softly whispered, “You want me?”
“We can’t…your brothers.”
They’d picked Alex up from the hospital yesterday. Since his house hadn’t yet been released, they’d brought him to hers. Along with his collapsed lung, he had two broken ribs, shot at a distance with a small caliber pistol. Proof again Ethan hadn’t shot him, but still…
Xavier was staying in the guest room down the hall. The three of them protecting her in case Ethan showed, she knew, even though know nobody would admit it.
“I heard Xavier creep down the stairs an hour ago, so we have the entire floor to ourselves.”
Kat sighed, her breath hitching as he slid her leg over his hip, before sliding his hand between them, slowly pressing one finger inside her before adding a second. She sucked in a breath, her soreness from yesterday before they’d gone to the hospital a little more intense than she’d been prepared for. Though she’d deny it with her dying breath. She wanted him. Needed him. Wanted to wake in his arms like this every morning for the rest of her life.
“Too much?”
“Please, Stephen.”
He moved slowly, kissing her between her neck and shoulder until she was panting before sliding inside her from behind, and Jesus, it didn’t matter if she was sore or not because he felt so damn good as he slowly rocked his body into hers. Neither of them were in a hurry, both enjoying the slow pace, something Stephen tried to accomplish more than once yesterday. And failed. They’d both been too desperate for each other, especially after the threat of losing one another.
When she started pushing her hips into his, meeting his thrusts, he held a hand against her waist, stilling her movements once again. So she closed her eyes, let herself feel Stephen’s body, taking pleasure from their closeness instead of chasing her next orgasm, nearly crying at the loss when he pulled out, only to moan in relief when he rolled her over and sank back in, entwining his fingers with hers and lifting her good arm until it rested near her head.
“Keep your eyes open. Keep them locked on mine.”
She complied, wrapping her legs around his waist, the emotions swirling in his eyes nearly her undoing. His weight was heavy, nearly crushing her, and it felt so amazing being completely enveloped by him.
“This is what I needed,” he said as he watched her, still thrusting slowly. “I’m so glad I met you. So glad you’re mine.”
“Stephen…” But she couldn’t get more words out, overwhelmed suddenly as she stared into those piercing blue eyes that held hers and refused to let go.
“I love you, Kat. Not a day went by that I wasn’t craving you, needing you, wanting you so desperately it nearly drove me out of my mind. That you’re with me now…there are no words. More than a dream come true.”
She shoved the tears back, refusing to let them fall as his words wrapped around her heart, became part of her soul. She opened her mouth to reply and he shook his head slightly, upping his pace just a little, but still keeping it slow even though she felt him swelling inside her. “I intend to spend every day for the rest of my life proving that to you. You own me, Kat. Body and soul.”
Seduced by his words, Kat refused to even blink, unable to look away from him, her heart still swelling until she thought it might burst. And when Stephen rested his forehead against hers and demanded that she come, she swore it did.
She fell over the edge, her climax coming out of nowhere, just exploding, shattering her into a million pieces.
***
“Katie! Are you listening?”
“No,” she mumbled. “Go away.” She was comfortable with her face buried in Stephen’s pillow, with Jake snuggled next to her, his soft purring pulling her back under.
“You need to get up.”
“Sleeping.”
“You’re not.”
She felt him sit, suddenly realized she was still in her bed. “What the hell, Alex!” she yelled, making sure the covers were over her before she sat up, instantly wide awake. At least he was down at the bottom, nowhere near her.
“If you didn’t use your chair for a closet, maybe I’d have somewhere else to sit.”
She glanced over at her chair. Like Alex said, covered with clothes. She shot him a look, but honestly, the sight of him was a relief, even if the location wasn’t ideal. He’d forgiven her after she vowed never to lie to him again. And then she’d silently vowed never to take his friendship for granted either. “Since when has my bed become Grand Central Station?”
Stephen chose that moment to come out of the bathroom, of course. He shot her look, letting her know he didn’t appreciate the comment. She laughed.
“Do that again, baby girl. See what happens.” He turned to Alex. “And I agree with Kat. What the hell?”
“It’s not like I haven’t seen everything—” Alex began, his wicked smile rivaling Stephen’s.
Not that Stephen was smiling right now. “Get out,” he growled.
Alex held up his hands in surrender, his smile disappearing as if it never was, his expression becoming serious. “Allen and Mary are on their way. They should be here in about an hour.”
“With information or more questions?” Stephen asked cautiously. Mary and Allen had followed them up to the hospital and they’d answered questions for hours while waiting to see Alex. By unspoken agreement, Xavier had been the one to tell them everything about Ethan. But that hadn’t stopped either Allen or Mary from asking Kat to confirm. She’d answered honestly, every word out of her mouth causing her to feel like she was betraying Ethan.
They had hung on her every word, Allen scribbling furiously in his notebook, pausing only when he caught the lie she’d told all those days ago, when she’d said she’d seen Emma after the wine incident.
She’d watched him flip back pages, held her breath as he’d re-read his notes. But he hadn’t called her out on it. Not in front of everybody and not in those few minutes they’d been alone when Mary had pulled Stephen and Xavier aside. His warning look had been enough, which she’d acknowledged with a nod.
No more lies, she thought. Ever.
“They didn’t say. Just asked if the four of us would be here,” Alex said.
“Zave downstairs?”
“He went to get some food. I texted him though.”
“Thanks, Alex.”
Alex nodded before heading out the room, his movements slow. The doctors had told him to walk around, but Kat bet climbing stairs should probably be avoided. “You should help him,” she said to Stephen.
As soon as Stephen was with Alex, she hopped out of bed and ran into the bathroom to start the shower, forcing her mind to go blank, but it didn’t work. Instead, she wondered how Victoria was holding up. Kat had gone to see her after she’d come home from the hospital, speaking to her for the first time since Fourth of July. As soon as Victoria opened the door and folded Kat into her arms, the dam had broken. Eventually, Victoria told her how they’d fought to get Ethan, first becoming his foster parents, then battling for adoption. They’d been so young, Victoria had told her, just barely out of college. The adoption had taken forever, had become legal just before the triplets had been born.
They’d never told him. It was a struggle they lived with for years, but eventually decided they didn’t want Ethan living with the knowledge that his mother was murdered, and that his father was the main suspect, the only suspect, in her murder. Having lived through it, Kat could probably understand that better than most.
But Emma Anderson and her accusations against Thomas had forced Victoria to tell Ethan the truth. That had been the day before he was supposed to meet her for Jen’s birthday. Two days before Emma had been killed.
Kat hadn’t questioned Victoria, didn’t tell her about the suspicion surrounding Ethan, didn’t discuss the case at all, even though she’d been thinking about it. Because every time she’d discussed the case in front of Ethan, he’d known she was talking about his birthparents.
It must have killed him.
Pulling herself back to the present, Kat slipped from the shower and half an hour later she was down in the kitchen, the smell of toasting bagels curdling her stomach. She was nervous. Scared they’d tell her Ethan was in custody, scared they’d arrest Stephen even though she didn’t think they had anything on him.
Stephen handed her some coffee and she gratefully accepted. She checked Jake’s cat bowl, saw somebody had already filled it. And now she was without anything to do except wait.
“I need a recliner.”
“What?” Kat looked over at Alex. He was sitting at the kitchen table, probably uncomfortable as hell in his condition.
“The doctor said it would be easier to sleep in a recliner rather than a bed.”
“We’ll find one today,” Stephen said. “We can take the truck.”
And then they started weighing leather over upholstery, whether it should have heat and cool air, a cupholder…a ridiculous conversation, Kat thought. Purposefully so.
She glanced at Xavier. He was on his computer, but she knew he was hearing every word. She wondered what his story was, wondered why she could never get a read on him. He had the same coloring as his brothers, but didn’t look nearly identical like Stephen and Alex.
Months ago, she remembered thinking the same thing about Ethan and his sisters, how similar they’d looked with their light blue eyes and dark blonde hair. The same color hair as Karen Young, perhaps the same color eyes if Kat could take away the heavy blue eyeshadow and thick black liner.
“You feel okay?”
Realizing she was still staring at Xavier, she smiled. “Fine.” He was asking about her face, which was now a lovely shade of yellow and green. She’d done her best with her limited supply of make-up, but it was still visible. Her wrist was wrapped in an ace bandage, but she’d forgone the sling for now.
“Sorry.”
He’d already apologized, countless times, but she smiled anyway, reassuring him. “I’m fine, really. Nothing that won’t heal.”
Kat’s phone beeped on the counter at the same time Xavier’s computer did. They all turned at the same time, staring at as if it was snake about to strike.
“It’s them,” Xavier confirmed before heading toward the door. The rest of them went into the living room, Stephen nearly having to drag her.
“It’ll be alright, Kat. We’ll make it through this.”
She glanced up at him, giving him a smile that started out false, but ended real. She believed him, trusted him. He’d seen her at her worst these past few days, right on the heels of putting him through hell. But he was still here, taking care of her. On impulse, she stood on her tiptoes and kissed him. “I love you, Stephen.”
Before he could respond, Mary and Allen filed into the living room, followed by Xavier. She gripped Stephen’s hand tightly while exchanging inane greetings, glad when Mary got right to the point.
“Jessica Adams woke up yesterday. We were able to interview her last night. First, she didn’t admit to killing Karen Young.”
“Did you really expect her to?” Kat sighed, sitting on the couch next to Alex, leaving room for Stephen on her other side.
“No,” Mary continued. “But she did admit to drugging her and bringing her to the party.”
That caught her attention. Stephen squeezed her good hand as Mary began to describe the life of Jessica Adams, painting a sick and twisted picture of a woman overcome with hatred and jealousy. Hatred for a father who barely acknowledged her. Jealousy toward a brother who’d had everything. “It sounds like Jessica’s mother played a role in instilling a deep hatred of the Harringtons. But instead of going after the senior Harrington, Jessica’s mother was focused on destroying his son, the child he did acknowledge. And who better to do that?”
“The daughter.”
“Exactly. The two of them played it right, studying John Harrington’s every move while Jessica played the role of the poor heartbroken sister, crying over her father’s abandonment, while in truth she was waiting for the day she had leverage.”
“And she got it.”
Allen nodded and turned to Stephen. “Eventually. Apparently, the night Jessica brought Karen Young to that party, another act of revenge, it wasn’t the first time Harrington had done something like that. She set them both up.”
“Was she blackmailing him?”
“No,” Allen said. “She said she thought about it, but decided she was better off biding her time. She knew of his interest in politics, knew he wanted to go all the way. She helped with the campaign, behind the scenes, of course, waiting until he reached the pinnacle of his career, waiting until he had the most to lose so she could destroy him.”
“The run for the presidency,” Kat said needlessly.
“Yes,” Mary nodded. “But earlier this year, his numbers began slipping and Jessica was becoming increasing worried she wouldn’t get her chance.”
“That was before his wife died and his numbers started to increase,” Alex said.
“Yes,” Mary said again. “Jessica jumped on it. At the funeral, she waited for Matthew, knew he’d show up.”
“How did she know he wasn’t dead?”
Mary shook her head. “Apparently, she always knew. When the senator first cut Matthew off, Jessica told him his father convinced his mother to cut him out of the will. She figured she’d be able to use Matthew if she ever needed to, an ally in the destruction of his father. When he showed up at the cemetery, she told him a story, some of it truth, some of it not.”
“Jessica told Matthew he was Karen’s son,” Kat said.
Mary looked at her. “How did you know that?”
“I thought he was, too. Before I got the age progression back. Matthew was the same age. I thought maybe Jessica had forced the senator to raise the baby, held it over his head. Blackmailed him. Or just made him live with a constant reminder of what he’d done. Remind him that everything he had could be taken away at her mercy.”
“That would have fit with the Jessica I met today,” Mary admitted. “She didn’t go that far, but she planted the seed in Matthew’s head. With his mother gone and adoption records sealed without a court order, it’s possible he believed her, at least until he got DNA results back—”
“He could have had those in a week, faster if he had it rushed.”
“Yes, but it didn’t really matter. The damage was already done. Matthew knew what his father was, what he’d done.”
“And the senator never knew?”
“Nobody did,” Mary said. “While I spoke with Jessica, Allen was speaking with Genevieve Harrington.”
“She was…shocked doesn’t even begin to describe her reaction,” Allen said. “Jessica had them all fooled. She played the role of doting sister, the doting aunt to perfection. She’s truly a psychopath.”
“What about Emma? Did Jess kill her?”
“She said she didn’t,” Mary said. “She was relying on Emma to break the story. She’d offered Emma an exclusive interview.”
“Then why did she try to kill me? I was after the same thing Emma was.”
“To Jessica, you were a threat,” Allen said. “The story wasn’t supposed to run until November, just before election day. Emma had already agreed to hold it. We’re assuming, in part, to give herself time to verify everything Jessica had told her. Jessica was also planning on leaving the country the minute the interview was over.”
“What about Blake and Koski?”
“She didn’t care about the others. Only Harrington,” Mary said.
Kat sighed. “So if Jessica is telling the truth, we still don’t know who killed Emma.” Or Karen Young and Donna Henderson, she thought. But they could suspect.
“Not yet. But we’ve just caught a major break,” Mary said. “Jessica’s willing to testify, in exchange for immunity. Which is unlikely, but Tracy Connelly is speaking with the Attorney General’s office now, seeing if we have enough to bring in the senator for questioning. At this point, it’s still he said, she said. We don’t have any hard evidence.”
“Jessica doesn’t have any?”
“She says she does, but isn’t willing to hand it over until we accept her terms.”
“So why did she talk before waiting for the offer to come through?”
“In her own words, in case she’s killed before then.”
Stephen sucked in a breath and Kat knew what he was going to ask before he even spoke. “Any word on Ethan?”
Mary and Allen exchanged a look, but Kat couldn’t read either of their expressions, couldn’t tell if they were hiding information from them or not. “We haven’t been able to find him. We’re meeting with Victoria next. Maybe she’s heard from him by now.”