Chapter 16 Kane #2
Kane shook his head, frowning. How could she ask him that?
“I wouldn’t have brought you here if I’d known.
I promised Cecile safety.” The woman’s current address had been in one of Ward’s many logbooks—the kingpin kept track of everyone with whom he’d ever had a meaningful interaction—though he’d never mentioned her in Kane’s presence.
She’d been perplexed when he showed up at her door, then fearful, but Zaria’s name had been the key to her cooperation.
“You were standing directly outside the church!” Zaria raised her voice until it echoed throughout the stone enclosure. The sound was an assault on Kane’s ears, and he couldn’t help his wince. “You let them in!”
“I didn’t let anyone in,” he said, surprised to hear the words come out evenly. “There was a third man with them, and we got in a fight. But don’t worry; he’s dead now.”
“Oh, excellent,” Zaria snarled. “So you killed someone as well. Really excellent.”
“I didn’t exactly have a choice.”
Zaria shook her head as if trying to clear it.
She ran her fingers through her hair, smearing Cecile’s blood across her face, though she didn’t appear to notice.
She turned away from Kane. Her gaze was fixed on the wall, or perhaps something in the middle distance.
It took another moment for him to understand that her shaking wasn’t the result of shock or distress.
No. She was furious.
“You.” Zaria spun back around, pointing a vibrating finger in his direction. “You had something to do with this. Do you know what that man said to me before you shot him? He asked me if I regretted working with you yet.”
Kane went rigid. He became aware that his gun was still raised, which likely wasn’t helping; he lowered it. “He mentioned me by name?”
Zaria gave a wild sort of scoff. “Don’t act surprised.”
“Tell me exactly what he said.”
“Just what I told you. He said, ‘Regret working with Kane Durante yet?’”
Kane’s blood iced over. Only a limited number of people called him by his true surname. People who knew him as himself, and not one of the many roles he played for Ward. He narrowed his eyes. “If I wanted you dead, Mendoza, I would have done it myself. And I certainly wouldn’t have missed.”
He knew at once it was a foolish thing to say.
Zaria lunged, closing the space between them, and shoved Kane hard against the crypt wall.
His back collided painfully with stone, and he was too startled to do anything but blink as her arm formed a barrier across his throat.
She jammed the barrel of her revolver into his stomach, not dissimilar to the way she had that day in the pawnshop.
“Don’t try to deny it. You’re somehow connected to whoever’s trying to kill me.”
“That’s—” Kane cleared his throat in an attempt to force the words out. “That’s not true at all.”
Zaria was past listening. She shook her head, hair whipping from one side to the other.
“Cecile is dead. She stepped in front of me, and now she’s dead.
The only person besides Jules who’s ever bothered to give a shit about me.
” She cut off, swallowing as a tear slipped down her cheek.
“I was so grateful you’d found her, did you know that?
For one single, stupid second, I thought everything might be okay after all. ”
The pain in her voice was sobering, and it took another moment for Kane to register her words. “Cecile stepped in front of you?”
“That’s what I said.” There was a sharp jab in his ribs as Zaria shifted the revolver.
His jaw tightened until it was physically painful. It all made sense now: her desperation to believe this was his fault. That he had been the one to lead those men here, and that Cecile had died as a result of something he’d done.
Because if it wasn’t Kane’s fault, then it was Zaria’s. She didn’t want to blame herself, so she was blaming him, no matter how illogical that was.
“You can say you don’t believe me,” Kane forced out through clenched teeth, “but I’m not the one who can’t deliver on commissions.
I’m not the one people want dead. Not enough to act on it, at least.” He offered her his bitterest smile.
“Cecile is dead because someone’s after you.
Because she gave her life to protect you.
And I know that’s a lot to digest, but don’t try to pin it on me just because you can’t bear to accept the truth. ”
It was harsh, and Kane knew it. But life was far harsher, and sometimes people died because of you, even if indirectly. He was responsible for enough terrible things; he didn’t need more accusations flung at him.
The barest twinge of regret lanced through him as Zaria’s lips quivered, then pressed together so tightly they turned white. When she spoke again, it was a whisper. “You’re an asshole.”
Kane didn’t have a response to that. It wasn’t as though she was wrong.
They stood there for a long moment, chest to chest, both breathing too rapidly.
Tears still beaded along Zaria’s lower lashes, but the upward tilt of her chin was obstinate.
She smelled like lavender and something metallic.
Her hair flowed around her in golden-brown waves, and though Kane knew the style wasn’t considered respectable, he couldn’t help being enraptured by it.
He could almost forget she was holding a revolver to his chest, because he was a goddamned idiot.
Finally, Zaria unleashed a curse and let him go. Her face was a mask of grief and fury as Kane stepped away from the wall. He could have moved earlier—could have bent Zaria’s arm and shoved her back with ease—but suspected that would have done a poor job of convincing her he posed no danger.
That was the reason he gave himself, at least.
Zaria slipped her gun back into her waistband, and Kane caught a glimpse of a corner of parchment protruding from her pocket.
“What’s that?” he couldn’t help asking, and the look she directed at him made it clear he’d overstepped. She seemed a diminished, broken version of herself, as if Cecile’s death had siphoned something vital out of her.
“None of your business. I’m getting the hell out of here.” Her voice broke on the next words. “Can you—I mean—what are we going to do with her?”
Kane grimaced, knowing Zaria meant Cecile.
The man he’d killed in the street could stay there—it wasn’t all that unusual to die in a midnight skirmish, and someone would collect him eventually—but Cecile’s corpse couldn’t remain inside a functioning church.
It seemed he wouldn’t be getting any sleep tonight.
“The body I can deal with, but you’re not going anywhere without me. ”
Zaria was already tucking her hair back up into her boy’s hat. She moved gingerly, shoulders so taut it was a wonder she didn’t crumble. “I was perfectly fine on my way over here. If anything, the common factor in my near-death experiences is you.”
Kane scowled disbelievingly at her. “I’m the common factor in you making it out of those experiences alive, you mean. And do I get a single thank-you? No. Instead, you threaten to shoot me.”
To Zaria’s credit, she looked a bit chastised, but the next moment she was glowering again. “Thank you so much for your concern. I’m sure it has nothing to do with the fact that I happen to be useful to you.” With that, she turned to go, the set of her shoulders stiff.
“Wait,” Kane said. “Did Cecile have the information you wanted?”
“As if you care,” Zaria shot back, already heading for the stairwell as the dark reached out to envelop her.
Kane ground his teeth. But his irritation didn’t stop him from following her all the way home, keeping a respectable distance, just to ensure she indeed made it unscathed.
Only because she happened to be useful to him, of course.