Kane's Hell

Kane’s teeth were gritted, and his lips were twisted in a snarl as he continued to glare at James.

“So, can I call you to discuss it more if I have questions? Bet you have some good insight into the topic.”

“What?” My eyes returned to James, having heard nothing of what he’d just asked me. “What did you ask?”

He smiled, biting his lower lip. “If I could call you. You know, to discuss my paper.”

I shook my head. “Just send me an email if you have questions.”

He leaned back casually and shrugged. “Okay. If you say so.” His tone implied it was my loss if I didn’t want to entertain his little crush by phone.

Kane stood, not waiting for another invitation, and as he walked toward me, James stood, nearly careening into him. Kane stopped, refusing to step out of James’s way, and his eyebrows rose smugly as he waited for James to step around him. James held his hands up laughing casually when he finally stepped to the side. But when Kane stepped by him, James couldn’t seem to keep his mouth shut.

“Stole your topic, dick,” he muttered quietly.

Kane paused and turned to look at James beside him. “You can have the topic. I don’t need to learn how to fuck. You, on the other hand, clearly do.” He nodded in my direction, a reminder he’d just been denied by me.

“Gentlemen,” I said in warning.

Both of them looked at me. James smiled and winked before walking away, and Kane stared for a moment before taking a deep breath and another two steps toward me. He sat in the chair, which put his back toward the class, and he rested his elbow on the desktop with his hand to his mouth. He was gnawing nervously on the tip of his thumbnail.

“Your topic.” My voice was clipped and cold.

He studied me for a moment. “The moral issues of vigilantism.”

I nodded slowly. “Why that topic?”

“Did you ask your other students?” His voice was defensive, but he shook his head as though he regretted his tone. “I think I’ve earned the right to be interested in the field of justice just as much as you, wouldn’t you say?” His voice was quiet, and it wasn’t carrying beyond the desk and the space between us.

“Very well,” I responded.

He made no move to stand, and I looked down at the desktop between us. When I looked back up, he was still watching me.

I cleared my throat. “Nice to see you playing well with others.”

He reached up, touching the scuff along his cheekbone just under and outside of his eye. “Shawn called you a fucking bitch. Sorry I didn’t handle the situation up to your standards,” he muttered quietly. He stood abruptly and walked away.

I forced my mouth to stay closed and stifle the gape as he walked away from me, and I cleared my throat as the final student approached. She ate up only about thirty seconds of my time, and when I stood again, I pulled the study guides for the test from my briefcase. I rounded the desk, setting the stack of guides beside me as I crossed my ankles and my arms.

“Questions.”

I was hoping there would be none. I did not get my wish. It was a good fifteen minutes before I was able to dismiss class. Kane didn’t hang back. I was disappointed and relieved at the same time. He walked out with the rest of the students, his eyes lingering on mine for a moment before he passed through the door. By the time I made it to the parking lot we both usually parked in, his dad’s truck was gone.

I stood in the middle of the nearly vacant parking lot, listening to the leaves rustle along the ground as a breeze passed through. It was going to be Halloween soon, Thanksgiving after that, and then Christmas. All those things were now going to happen without Kane in my life, just as they had eleven years before. Knowing this was going to happen didn’t soften the blow—not in any way.

I climbed into my car, and I started it, putting it into drive. But just as quickly, I popped it back into park, and I let my head drop to my steering wheel. I cried, loud, sobbing tears that fell pathetically. I wanted to regret the past two months. I wanted to hate him for reaching out to me. But then I imagined erasing him from the past two months of my life, and I couldn’t hate him at all. All I could seem to do was love him for giving me more time with him. Somehow I needed to figure out a way to let the hurt go for long enough to tell him that.

He’d had things he’d needed to say to me—that he loved me, that he didn’t want to hurt me, that he knew he would, and he couldn’t allow that to happen. Well, this was what I needed to say to him.

Thank you.

But how do you thank someone while they’re breaking your heart?





Chapter Thirty-Seven



Kane



I listened to the sounds of Community Memorial Hospital as I sat in the waiting room. It was a few more long and painful days since I’d last seen Helene. And now I had a new disaster to deal with.

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