Closer: A Novella (6 page)

“I’m sure you’ve got somebody—a boyfriend,” he suggested.

“My friends are just a couple of people at the hotel where I work as a desk clerk. That’s what happens to girls like me who aren’t like the other Sensors—not that I would have wanted to get into trading. They’re just casual friends and we don’t even talk outside of work; I doubt they’d want to be tangled up in whatever’s going on here. Exactly what
is
going on here? Who are you?”

“I’m nobody,” he replied, attempting to pull his hand away. “I’m just a guy who was on my way home when I ran into your friend.”

“He’s
not
my friend,” she bit out angrily. Another thought crossed her mind and her heart skipped a beat. “What if he finds out where I live?”

“You don’t have to worry,” he assured her. “I took care of him.”

She swallowed hard. “Took care of… how?”

The sharp line of his jaw intimidated her when he clenched it. “Meaning he’s dead. I don’t think he had time to do anything to you, because he was in a hurry to get back to his car.”

“Why were you going through his trunk? Where are we now? I don’t mean here,” she said, looking around. “Where are we for real?”

His teeth scraped against his lower lip. “His house.”

Carrie paled.

“What?” she cried out, catapulting to her feet. The guilt on his face made her furious. “You mean to say that you found me unconscious in the trunk of a car and decided that instead of calling for help, you’d drive me to that murderer’s house? And then—then you appear in my head with your hand on my chest! If my hands were free, I’d slap the living shit out of you! How dare you—”

“Now cut that out!” he roared, standing up so that he towered over her. “It’s not like that. I didn’t know you were in the fucking car. The plan was to dump it at his house and wash my hands of this catastrophe. Going to Breed jail to rot for the next century is not on my agenda, you got it? I could have left you right where you were, but that’s the sort of thing a lowlife would do. I’m not saying that makes me a hero, but cut me some slack for trying to lend you a hand.” He smirked inwardly; the remark could have been funny considering they were holding hands. “If you don’t want to help yourself, then I don’t know what else I can do.”

“Don’t
want
to?” she said in a broken voice. “What choice do I have? What can I give you that’ll wake me up? I don’t have anyone,” she said, fighting against angry tears. “I’m stuck here and fading to God knows where, and you want to blame me for not being able to get myself out of this mess. Well, I’m
sorry
!”

Too late. Wracked with emotion, Carrie completely lost it and fell to her knees. All she had wanted was a milkshake and a compliment. She cried against her arm, thinking how silly it was to wonder if the guy at the burger place would notice when she stopped coming in. She had been thinking off and on about getting a puppy to keep her company in her quiet apartment.

All the things she had never done—all that life wasted. How was she to know that this could be the last night of her life?

Hot, salty tears streamed down her face, and the man with the hazel eyes knelt before her and tenderly squeezed her hands.

“Go, just go,” Carrie choked out, barely audible. Now she had to cry in front of this man because she couldn’t let go of him, and that made it so much worse.

“Hey, hey now… don’t cry,” he said in a softened voice. “You’re going to be okay, Caroline. Do you understand me? I’ll figure something out.”

He wiped her wet cheek with the back of his knuckles and it didn’t seem to matter that he was still holding her hands. Kane had a firm grip and a soft touch, as if all of his emotions were in every stroke, and yet she felt none of him in this place. Within the walls of her mind, the only pain she felt was her own.

“I’m sorry I hit you in the head with a frying pan.” She sniffed, finally gaining the courage to look him in the eyes once more.

Kane snorted and sat back. “I’ve been told I have a thick head. Don’t sweat it.” His Adam’s apple undulated when he spoke in a gentler voice. “What did you mean when you said you were fading?”

Fear snaked in her belly and she furrowed her brow. “Did you notice how the light in the window seems to be a little bit dimmer?” she asked, nodding in that direction. “What if that means something?”

Kane looked thoughtfully over his shoulder at the stream of light that blanketed the room like a golden tapestry. “Just means that you need a lamp,” he said, trying to sound like it didn’t matter.

She wiggled her fingers and noticed that his hands were clammy. Funny that you really didn’t need to be a Sensor to know how someone felt if you just took the time to read their body language. It was in the way he tightened his jaw and briefly avoided eye contact that showed he acknowledged what was happening. Did he care? Probably not. Maybe he just didn’t want to deal with anything this heavy, and who could blame him?

“I think that’s my light,” she said. “It feels like I’m separating from life and the scariest part is there’s no feeling of angels or someone waiting at the end of a tunnel. Maybe that doesn’t come until later, but I’m not ready to die. I’m really scared, Kane.”

“Don’t sweat it,” he said with a sunken brow. “Look, you just need to sleep it off and heal naturally. It’ll take a while but you’ll get there. It’s not like we’re human—we don’t die as easily.”

That was true. They were mortal, all right, but all Breed had the ability to heal slightly faster. Sensors, like most Breed, were also resistant to human diseases. They lived longer than Relics, who were the closest to humans genetically and had a shorter lifespan, not to mention that Relics were more susceptible to catching airborne viruses like the flu. A Sensor who took care of himself could live a couple of hundred years, sometimes longer.

A serious take-charge look came over him and a bloom of confidence invigorated Carrie when he leaned forward. Sometimes all a person needed was a dash of hope to get through the darkness.

He squeezed her hands. “Caroline, did you hear me at all when I wasn’t in this room with you?”

She almost didn’t hear the rest of the sentence after he said her name. Carrie would have liked to hear him say her name over and over again. In fact, she purposely delayed answering him.

“Caroline?”

She quirked a knowing smile and quickly concealed it. “I’m not sure. Maybe—but I wasn’t paying attention.”

“Here’s what I’ll do: I’m going to leave for a few minutes to see if I can wake you up. Concentrate as hard as you can. Got it? Listen for my voice and try to follow it. Maybe somehow I can pull you out of here if we keep trying. Your head injury just looks like it needs stitches, but I don’t know—if he hit you with that tire iron…”

Kane twisted his mouth skeptically. He didn’t have to say another word. A few stitches? She might have a cracked skull and brain damage.

Carrie nodded, and in the blink of an eye, Kane was gone.

Chapter 4

“Caroline, time to open your eyes,” he urged with a commanding tone.
“Can you hear me? Follow my voice and come out of there.”

Kane put on his gloves and shook her gently at first, but then with more urgency. He was careful not to jostle her head because he hadn’t inspected her injuries as thoroughly as he should have.

She didn’t respond. He’d never expected to have a decision so completely placed in his hands, where his actions meant life or death. Especially not in the same night he’d committed a murder. Maybe this was Karma giving him a cosmic bitch slap. Kane stood up, tugging at his earlobe.

The bright green numbers on the alarm clock switched over to the next minute. Exhaustion wouldn’t rub away. God, what if he fell off the bed and cracked his skull during one of his head hops? Kane snorted. Wouldn’t that just be ironic?

Sirens wailed in the distance and he walked to the window, peering through the curtains at the sleeping world. When the sounds faded, he recognized them as fire trucks and not police sirens. Tell
that
to his thundering heart.

Kane crawled onto the bed on the other side of Caroline and propped his head in his hand. The idea of lying beside a woman was kind of nice; something he did only on rare occasions. She had such soft lines to her body, curves in all the right places and a lovely skin tone. He looked between their arms and noticed how much richer his tan was. Her face was angelic, not carved with the hollow cheeks and sharp lines of a tough woman. The expression she carried was serene—absent of worry, pain, and anger.

“Caroline?” he whispered softly.

His stomach knotted when he glimpsed the dark bloodstains on her blue dress. It offended Kane, because now he knew how lovely it looked on her—the way the fabric swished when she moved around. It also conjured images of what that sonofabitch had done to her. He thought about removing her dress, but then what? He sure wasn’t going to put that bastard’s clothes on her.

Her eyelids fluttered and he leaned in closer.

“Wake up,” he said firmly.

Kane considered for a moment where to touch her. The handholding was awkward—a gesture he never indulged in and wasn’t sure how he felt about it.

After all, it wasn’t his hand that most women wanted to hold.

When Caroline had begun to weep and the tears splashed on his hands, it was all he could do not to bolt out of there. He preferred it when she was spitting hateful things at him, because it was less personal. The idea of soaking in her sadness with their hands still joined frightened Kane.

But to his surprise, he felt nothing in her touch.

Fear morphed into relief, and then wrapped back around to fear again. Why didn’t he pick up anything with her? She wasn’t able to transmit, but Kane had always been a highly receptive Sensor.

“Damn,”
he hissed, lightly touching the sore lump on his head.

Kane grinned attractively, thinking that she was a ballsy little thing and he liked that. She may not have been able to escape her attacker, but he knew that she’d given him a hell of a fight. Caroline possessed tenacity and spirit—there was nothing dull about her.

After a good rub of his tired eyes, he cursed himself for lying in bed next to a coma victim and deciding that she was date-worthy. Not to mention the fact that she had kicked his ass and showed zero interest in him. It wasn’t a big surprise; Kane never talked to girls like her because they always ended up with a doctor or Councilman. She was out of his league, and it had nothing to do with whether or not she came from money. Some girls were just like that. It was the smooth way they spoke, the intelligence behind their bright eyes, and the sophisticated way in which they moved.

Kane removed his right glove and placed it on the blanket between them. A small silver ring with a turquoise heart captured his interest. It was on the pinky finger of her right hand and looked like something a child might wear. He hadn’t noticed it before, but suddenly Kane was curious about the little things. Had someone given it to her? Was there a special meaning?

He slipped her delicate fingers into his right hand.

“What took you so long?” Her eyes were rimmed with dark terror.

He didn’t like that look and it worried him enough to circle his eyes alertly around the room and pull her closer to him protectively.

“What’s wrong?”

“Why did you leave me here for so long? You said it was only going to be for a minute or two.”

The light was noticeably dimmer. “How long do you think I was gone?”

Her bare shoulders lifted and she shivered. “Seemed like hours.”

But it had only been minutes. “Did you hear me calling your name? Think carefully. Did you sense it in any way—or maybe something around here changed?”

A lock of her silky hair slipped in front of her nose and he fought back the urge to tuck it behind her ear.

“Maybe a whisper, but I thought it was the wind. It’s getting colder in here, Kane. I’m not dressed for… for death.”

She attempted to laugh and he smiled, giving her credit for keeping a sense of humor given the circumstances. But the comment was a spear in his conscience.
This won’t happen
, he thought.
I won’t let it
.

When she shivered again, he guided her to the window and they sat down against the wall underneath a spray of golden light. Caroline sat on his left and he leaned in her direction with his knee bent. His right hand held hers as if they were shaking hands. Strange. Kane was getting used to touching her and he shifted his body so that she would be comfortable.

“Better? The sun will warm you up.”

But that didn’t seem to put her at ease as he noticed the ghostly expression on her face. Caroline kept her eyes low, but she was watching him out of the corner of her eye.

“Kane?” She scarcely breathed.

“Yeah?”

“What if you smothered me with a pillow?”

Chills rolled down his arms and he swallowed thickly. “What?” he bit out.

Kane’s intense eyes were the epitome of a blazing inferno. “You think I would do something like that? Is that the kind of man you think that I am? Why would you even—?”