I finally gave up on the philosophy databases, and on a whim, I moved to some of my favorite psychology databases that I’d used back in my undergrad years. I immersed myself in a few journals, using “justice” and “crime” as my search terms.
Kane walked out just as I was pulling up a journal article titled, Injustice and Victimology. He was wearing nothing but his underwear, and he stretched, his muscles tightening as he did. He walked toward the kitchen, winking at me as he moved, and I watched him as he poured himself a coffee and returned to the sofa, sitting at the opposite end from me. When he picked up a book and started leafing through it as he blew on his coffee, I finally turned my attention to the article and scanned.
The ramifications of a crime left unresolved can be devastating to a victim.
That one passage alone stopped me still, and I stared at the words for a moment before shifting my attention to Kane. He looked up at me, smiling gently. He had no idea I was reading words that deconstructed an issue that impacted him just as greatly as they touched me. And I let the sight of him sink into me and the memories course through my veins for a moment before I returned my focus to the article.
Justice is this thing that can give a victim salvation. It’s also something that can eat away at a victim like a cancer when they don’t have it. It’s the difference between acceptance and peace or denial and tumult.
I could barely swallow as I read the words, and when I glanced up to Kane again, my vision was skewed with glossiness. My throat was tight, and Kane sat up, scooting forward until he was between my legs. He rested his hands on my stomach—his expression all concern and confusion.
The glossiness turned to real tears then, and I covered my eyes with my hand as my lips trembled. I felt the weight of Kane’s body as he leaned into me, and when he pulled my hand away from my eyes, I smiled this weird quivering smile as I let out an equally strange laugh.
He brushed the tears from my cheeks, biting his lower lip.
“I think I found my direction,” I said as another deranged laugh escaped me.
He smiled gently. “I’d say so.”
Chapter Thirty-Three
Kane
By Saturday at lunch time I had Helene on her hands and knees in my bedroom, her cute little ass in the air. She’d curse, growl, beat the floor with a mallet, and then curse some more. I heard, “This is bullshit,” every time she couldn’t get the interlocking pre-finished hardwoods to pop into place easily.
I was following her with the power nailer, and it was a damn good thing the nailer made noise, because it helped drown out the sound of my laughing at her. She was sweating even after stripping out of her sweatshirt and wearing only her tank top with her yoga pants. I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off her nipples that were showing through the thin fabric.
When my phone rang in my pocket, I contemplated ignoring it. We still had half the room to go before we were done. But I pulled it out, setting the nail gun beside me.
I glanced at the number, but I didn’t recognize it. “This is Kane Thorson.”
“Mr. Thorson, this is Bob Kendrick at Home Depot. Just thought I’d give you a call to tell you the sink we special ordered for you has finally come in.”
“Oh. That’s great. Timing’s perfect. I’ll head that way soon.”
I hung up moments later, and I collapsed onto my back next to Helene. She smiled down at me.
“Want me to grab lunch while I’m out?” I lifted her hand, letting my fingers twine through hers.
“No. Remember? Hilde said she was bringing us lunch today.”
“Oh, yeah.” I scowled. “She’s going to try to poison me isn’t she?”
Helene shrugged. “Maybe. I really couldn’t say.”
I pinched her in the side, and she instantly doubled over as she laughed. When I reached for her cheek, I pulled her mouth to mine, kissing her gently. She crawled on top of me, straddling my hips and looking down at me. I reached for her waist, running my palms up under her tank top, but she stopped me quickly, pulling my hands back. She leaned over me, pinning my hands above my head, and then she kissed me again.
She pressed her tongue between my lips, but she teased, pulling back when I tried to suck on it. My mouth chased after hers, but she dodged my lips at every turn.
“Come on, baby,” I whispered. “Put that tongue back in my mouth. Let me suck on it. I know how much you like that.”
Her cheeks turned rosy, and she finally lowered her mouth to mine, keeping her eyes open and on mine. She licked slowly along my lower lip, and I sighed, and when she slipped her tongue back between my lips, I moaned as she filled my mouth. I sucked, just as I promised I would, and she was the one who moaned then.
When she pulled back again, she kept her weight pressed down on my hands that were still above my head.
“For a woman who’s supposedly cold, you sure do warm up nicely. Now how about you lean over a little farther and let me warm up those nipples.” I stared up at her, waiting to see if she would.