I'd called Angie and Sloane, but neither they nor the other knights had seen him.
I'd slept for a few hours, but not well. Now it was past seven and I still couldn't track him down. My closing was at ten and I was going a little bit out of my mind.
I knew that I'd end up making Angie late for work, but I needed company and reassurance, and so I headed to her condo, stopping for donuts along the way.
I wasn't worried that he was hurt or injured. Instead, I was worried that something inside him had broken--something I didn't understand but knew that I had to soothe or else risk losing this man forever.
"Hey," Angie said, once she'd buzzed me up. "You look like shit."
"And hello to you, too."
"Still no word?"
I shook my head. "No. He hasn't checked in with you guys, either?"
"Not as far as I know. Evan went out for a run. You can ask when he gets back, but he knows you're worried. He would have told me--or just called you--if he'd heard something."
"Shit," I said, then ran my fingers through my hair, because I really didn't know what else to do.
"Do you want to tell me what happened?"
"What I want is to just wish it away. But the bottom line is that he thinks he went too far. He thinks he hurt me."
"Did he?"
"No," I said. "No, he really didn't. But before this thing started he told me that there couldn't be anything between us. Because he was certain that he'd cross a line and somehow injure me. Honestly, Angie, it really worried him."
"Self-fulfilling prophecy."
"He's an idiot. I swear he has more self-control than I do. I don't see why he can't see it."
She shrugged. "Sometimes it's hard to see yourself, you know?" She glanced over me. "Speaking of seeing yourself, I'm guessing you haven't changed clothes since yesterday."
I glanced down, saw that she was right, and shrugged.
"Go take a quick shower. Then find something in my closet. You don't want to look wrecked when you see him, even if you are. He's the one who's wrecked, right? You're the one who's supposed to be strong."
"You sure?"
"Positive. And I'll go make some coffee for when you get out. You look like you need the jolt."
"I don't want to make you late for work."
She waved my words away. "What's the point of being the director if you don't go in late from time to time? Besides, I want to be here when Evan gets back. Just in case he's heard something."
"You think he has?"
"I don't know. But maybe Cole called during his run. Those three are in each other's pockets, so maybe." She glanced at her watch. "What time is your closing?"
"Ten."
"You have time," she said, then waved toward her bedroom. "Go. I'll meet you in the kitchen."
When I emerged fifteen minutes later, I did feel better. Not by much, though. And Evan still hadn't come home.
I forced myself to push it away. I told myself to take deep breaths, de-stress, and trust that it would all work out. It had to. Because I needed Cole in my life, and damn the man, I was certain he needed me, too.
"It's going to be fine," Angie said when I slid onto one of the chairs at her breakfast table.
"Keep saying that," I said. "Maybe the universe will listen." I devoured a donut, then licked the sugar off my fingers. "Listen. There's something else I want to talk to you about."
Her brow furrowed, and she sat down beside me. "Is something wrong?"
"No. No, it's just--" I sucked in a breath. "It's just that I've got this secret, and--oh, shit," I said. "I'm not exactly who you think I am."
"Oh, really?" Her brows lifted as she leaned back in her chair, and to my relief she looked more intrigued than pissed. "I'm listening."
"Right," I said, then told her everything. How I'd grown up. The mess my dad was now in. Even the Big Truth about how I'd originally tagged her as a mark.
"Oh my god, seriously?"
"Well, yeah." I dragged my teeth across my lower lip.
"So why are you telling me this now?"
"Because I'm about to go buy a house."
She laughed. "We must be really good friends, because that makes total sense to me."
"You're not mad?"
"Why would I be? You know my secrets--and god knows I have them. Now I know yours." She narrowed her eyes. "Unless this is some sort of long con? Am I going to wake up tomorrow and find out that I've deeded this condo to you?"
I laughed. "I wish."
"Well, there you go. We're even. We're good. I love you. And," she added, reaching across the table to give my hand a squeeze, "we'll figure out what to do about Cole."
And that, I thought, was why she was my best friend.
seventeen
I stood just outside the hangar and stared at the sleek silver jet owned by one of the knights' various corporate entities. I knew Cole was inside, and in a moment, I would be, too. He hadn't invited me--didn't even know that I was standing outside--and I could only hope that the emotion I'd see on his face when I stepped onto that plane would be pleasure. And not anger or fear.
Or, worst of all, regret.
"He's going to Los Angeles," Evan had said.
"Los Angeles? Why?"
"For you."
"What? How?"
"You'll have to ask him."
"I damn sure will. If he's going, I'm going."
"Good," he'd said. "I wouldn't have told you if I didn't think you should." He'd taken my arm. "You're good for him, Kat. He knows it. Don't let him forget it."
"He's good for me," I'd countered, and Evan's mouth had curved into a slow, sad smile.
"I believe you," he'd said. "But Cole's going to be harder to convince. I love him like a brother, but of the three of us, he's the most fucked up. Honestly, he has the most reason to be."
"I don't care about the reasons. And I'm not giving up on him."
"Good," he said, then kissed my forehead.
Now I drew in a breath for courage, then walked inside the hangar, knowing that the crew was holding the plane for me, making excuses about mechanical issues per Evan's instructions so Cole wouldn't wonder why they weren't already underway.
"Welcome aboard, Ms. Laron," a petite flight attendant said as I began to climb the stairs leading into the main cabin. "Mr. Black requested that you stay in the crew section until we're underway, and then you can move to the main cabin."
She said all that as if it wasn't the world's strangest request, and I had to admire her professionalism. The plan had been Evan's, but I'd easily agreed. Because there was no way that Cole could kick me off this plane once we were cruising at thirty thousand feet.
The attendant, who introduced herself as Jana, offered me a glass of wine before takeoff, which I gratefully took. Then, once we were airborne, she offered me another, and I downed that as well. By the time the plane had reached cruising altitude and I was allowed to stand up and move through the door that separated the two sections, I'd bolstered my courage enough to think that I just might survive the wrath of Cole.
I drew in a breath, then another, then slid the door open, stepped inside, and closed it behind me. I saw him immediately, of course, as he was the only person in the cabin. He was seated in one of the chairs that surrounded a small table. He was leaning back, a White Sox baseball cap pulled low over his eyes.
He hadn't noticed me, and I took a moment to look around. I'd never been in a private jet before, and this small room seemed more like a hotel lobby than the interior of a plane.
There were three other chairs around the table at which Cole sat, making a small conversation area. On the opposite side of the cabin, a sofa sat beneath a row of cloud-filled windows. A small coffee table filled the space in front of it. Finally, two plush recliners filled the area in the rear.
The entire cabin positively gleamed with polished wood and bright metal trim. The upholstery managed to look both comfortable and expensive. Honestly, I could get used to this.
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