Closer: A Novella Read online

  Spatters of blood on his shirt caught his attention when he brushed a hand over them. A faint red glow emanated from his fingertips. The stains were dark and hardly noticeable, but his hands lit up on contact. That was part of his Sensor abilities; when they picked up strong emotions, there was an energy glow. The emotional content of the murder was all over him and Kane shuddered, wanting to strip out of his shirt. He began polishing the handles of everything he’d touched, knowing that his imprints were all over the house. Fingerprints, hairs, molecules, emotions.

  Jesus.

  On his way back to the bedroom, he stopped cold in his tracks. A blond news anchor with heavy mascara spoke in rushed words about an unidentified body found in an alley. They had a police sketch on the screen and provided a number to call with any information. Time was not about to hang out, have a few drinks, and be on his side. How could he check up on his little sis and send her money if he was locked up in Breed jail? He already felt like a shitty older brother too. He hadn’t visited Sunny in over a year and had even missed her last birthday, which was a first.

  Kane went back into the bedroom and patted Caroline’s cheek.

  “Enough of this. I want you to open your eyes and look at me. Caroline, can you hear me in there?”

  His fingers tested the wound on her head. The bone didn’t feel crushed, but there could be a crack or bleeding inside that he couldn’t see. Why the fuck hadn’t he become a doctor? It wasn’t an uncommon profession among Sensors since they were able to feel the exact symptoms of the patient, but who the hell wants to feel pain all day?

  The raw flesh around her gaping wound made his stomach turn.

  Kane rushed into the hall and tore apart the bathroom until he found some gauze and one of those Ace bandages. With an armload of supplies, he returned to the room and pressed a cotton ball against the rim of the peroxide bottle, gently dabbing the blood away and cleaning the wound. He watched her serene expression as she took shallow breaths. Kane opened the bedside drawer in search of a tissue. Instead, what he found was a bottle of superglue.

  He’d read stories about doctors using superglue to seal wounds—even in the Vietnam War. There was no way he was going to try to sew a needle through there. Shit, he couldn’t even sew a button on his shirt. Kane chewed on his bottom lip for a minute while staring at the tube.

  It didn’t take long for him to make a decision. Kane put his gloves back on and carefully unscrewed the narrow cap. He had a good angle and applied it along the edge of the cut, pressing it together tightly. Infections could be nasty and he had to think on the fly. The cut was right on the hairline and easy to see. She’d have an ugly scar, but at least it wouldn’t be on her face.

  The Ace bandage wasn’t the best idea, but he managed to get it on tight after two attempts, wrapping it so that he could see her eyes.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “I’m going to fix you up. And when you snap out of this, you’re going to kick my ass for gluing your head together.” Wasn’t that the truth? He almost cringed at the thought.

  Kane bit down on the tip of his right glove and pulled it off. His fingers itched to touch her and he wondered if it was a good idea to keep leaving Caroline alone.

  She needed a healer. He ran into a lot of different Breeds working for a delivery service, but Kane could never tell which ones were the Relics. Many were healers or consultants by trade because of the specific knowledge they retained and passed down genetically to their descendents. They spent their lives acquiring more information about the Breeds that their family specialized in treating. He didn’t know how that shit worked, but nothing ceased to amaze him anymore. If he knew where one lived, he could leave her on their doorstep.

  Yeah. In broad daylight, leave a dying woman in front of someone’s door. Real sensitive.

  He cursed under his breath and pinched his earlobe. A delicate gold necklace around her neck caught his eye—the chain was so thin that he almost missed it. The pendant or charm must have slid around her neck so he reached for it with his bare hand, forgetting about their link.

  Then he was back in her private room.

  Caroline faced him with her back to the window. The contact between them felt so natural. Her hair captured the light and a few delicate strands floated carelessly. As he cupped the nape of her neck with his hand, that possessive feeling surged through him again.

  Then, the little charm slid forward and stopped his heart from beating.

  “What’s wrong?” She looked down at what captured his interest. “Don’t you like it? I wear it all the time even though I’m not fond of gold.”

  “Why an anchor?” Kane’s words came out in a raspy voice. He didn’t even notice that he’d been holding his breath.

  “I don’t know,” she said with uncertainty. “I saw it in a store years ago and even though money was tight… I just had to have it.” She touched it with the tip of her finger and dropped her hand. “Maybe it just reminds me not to get swept away in all of the bad stuff that happens. I know, it sounds cheesy,” she confessed with a shrug of her shoulder. “But it’s one of my most favorite things.”

  He admired her magnificent shoulders, round and confident with all those tiny sun-kissed freckles. Caroline’s eyes were wide and pale brown, matching the radiant color of her hair. It wasn’t just the physical traits that made her attractive, but the way she used them. Her eyes glittered with emotion and her mouth was nothing less than temptation. The moment she parted her lips—so yielding and responsive—he knew that he wanted to kiss her.

  Despite the fact that she tried to kill him, Kane’s entire body lit up like an inferno at the idea of her soft body beneath his, smelling her hair, tasting her lips, touching her skin, and hearing his name on her tongue.

  “Lift up my shirt,” he said.

  Her eyes widened.

  “Just do it,” he said with a reassuring nod.

  Caroline pinched the ends of his black cotton shirt and slowly drew it up, revealing his firm abs. His job wasn’t an easy one, but all that heavy lifting and time spent outside left him with a toned body. It didn’t belong to a bodybuilder, but he could hold his own.

  Maybe it was the way she splayed her fingers across his stomach, or the wild excitement in her eyes, but Kane stepped closer.

  Just a little.

  “Oh Kane, you’re so beautiful,” she said, desire clinging to her words.

  God, that almost unraveled him completely.

  He stroked his thumb across the nape of her neck in slow movements as she admired him. It was intense to watch her appraise his body; her eyes soaked in every inch of him like a sponge and she was dripping with admiration.

  When the shirt was halfway up his chest, he leaned forward. “Lift it up all the way, Caroline. I want you to see all of me.”

  She obeyed, pulling his shirt over his head until it was stretched behind his neck. Suddenly, her breath caught.

  Kane’s eyes hooded when her finger traced around the dark pattern on his left pec. It was a tattoo of an anchor that he’d gotten on his twentieth birthday.

  He went in with his buddies with the intention of getting a dagger or something cool, but when he thumbed through the design book his eyes stopped on the page with an anchor. What compelled him to get that damn thing he couldn’t explain, even to this day. Tattoos were a personal mark and most had a story behind them, but Kane had no valid reason why he refused to leave the shop that day without that anchor inked on his chest. It was the only tattoo on his body.

  Was it fate, or coincidence?

  “You’re wearing my anchor,” she whispered. Kane stepped forward until the fullness of her breasts molded against him.

  There was no asking for permission because her body gave it completely. Caroline widened her legs and he slid his right knee between them, feeling the delicious warmth. His fingers pressed against the back of her neck and he kissed her hard. There was no buildup or tiny pecks to start lighting the fireworks; it was the big show. Their mout
hs moved hungrily as they tasted and discovered each other. When her lips parted and allowed his tongue entrance, he moaned.

  Caroline made the sweetest gasp and he hiked up her pretty dress and ran his gloved hand across her thigh. His tongue pushed in deeper, and desire coiled in his belly.

  “Hm-mm,” she murmured in protest. The kiss broke and her fingers tugged at his left glove. “Take this off. I want to feel your hands on me, Kane.”

  She did more than ask, she removed the glove herself and tossed it to the floor. The cool air touched his damp palm and when she guided his hand back to her silky thigh, he nearly lost it. Lascivious thoughts spilled in his mind like an ink well that tipped over.

  “Touch me,” she begged.

  Kane grew rigid at the idea of her saying that over and over again. He felt so inexperienced, enjoying the texture of her smooth thigh against his virgin palm. The kiss was smoldering, creating such palpable warmth that it spread across his chest and shot straight down to his groin. He groaned and Caroline rubbed her leg against his while his mind swam with images of them undressing each other.

  “You don’t want this,” he said against her mouth. “I’m no good for you.”

  She wasn’t listening as her kiss moved like fire burning away the edges of paper, and Kane was about to become a pile of ash. He loved women, but he’d never felt unworthy of one until now. This one—she was special—she was too good to be with someone like him.

  He cupped her face. “You’re killing me, Angel,” Kane said in a strangled voice.

  Caroline’s fingers clawed across his tattoo and her tongue pushed deep into his mouth. So deep that everything male within him stirred.

  That was it. All sense of control was gone.

  Kane reached down and lifted her leg, sliding her onto the window ledge. Caroline wrapped her long legs around his waist and her back pressed hard against the glass. One of her sandals fell off and clapped on the floor below.

  “Make a bed appear,” he growled against her mouth.

  Out of breath, she replied, “It’s not working anymore. I can’t do it.”

  The button on his jeans popped open and he sucked in his stomach at the feel of her cool knuckles against his skin. Her fingers were only an inch away from a hard ache that demanded to know her in the most intimate way. She slowly kissed her way around his neck and he let out a hard sigh—the kind of sound that a man makes before he loses himself to passion. Those creamy thighs were so soft against his rough fingers and he slid them beneath her dress, feeling the line of her panties. Kane wanted to put her body to memory with his hands.

  When she made a soft moan, he scraped his cheek against her jaw, breathing hard across her shoulder.

  It wasn’t right. None of this. Trying to take a woman in her own mind while she was lying unconscious with a head injury, the fact that he was too chickenshit to call a real doctor for help, and even worse was that she was letting him.

  “No,” he said, creating distance.

  Seeing her lips swollen from their kiss and her flushed chest made it harder to deny this woman. “We can’t do this. I need to go find someone who can help you.”

  “Don’t you dare leave me!” she said, gripping the shirt behind his shoulders and pulling him close. Fear trembled in her eyes, glimmering with tears that sprang from them.

  “Why did he do this to me?” she cried. Passion broke into pain, etched in every line and contour of her face. Caroline shook her head and a hair stuck to her lip. “This isn’t fair! I hate him for what he did to me,” she hissed, choking through sobs. “I’m asking you to stay here with me. Please, Kane, keep me warm until it’s over. Don’t let me be in the dark alone.” The last words broke off.

  And broke him.

  Hearing her acceptance of death sliced through his chest like an unmerciful sword. Unrelenting sobs reddened her cheeks and she wept. It was a like cold shower to see her grimace with hopelessness, unable to keep her eyes open as they welled with tears. Death was hunting Caroline and he couldn’t do a damn thing about it.

  “I’m not leaving you.” He kissed her wet lashes and wiped the tears from her cheeks with the pad of his left thumb. “Don’t cry, Angel. We’re going to stay right here and everything’s going to be all right. You hear me? I’m not letting anything bad happen to you. You’re safe,” he said, kissing away her salty tears. Her skin was cool against his lips and she closed her eyes, accepting his offer.

  “I’ll be okay if you promise not to leave me,” she said, wiping her nose with the back of her hand. Caroline smiled. “I bet I look like a hot mess; I hate crying.” Her liquid brown eyes lifted to his and he felt a flutter in the pit of his stomach.

  “You’re beautiful,” he said under his breath. And he meant it. She was truly the most beautiful woman he’d ever known.

  The same hand that had cut a man’s throat just hours earlier was now holding a life that would slip through his own fingers like tiny grains of sand. Kane was faced with making a choice, and each came with a consequence that would wreck him forever. Staying meant that she would die, and leaving meant that she would do it alone.

  “You have my word that I won’t leave you,” he said in a thick voice. “I’ll stay for as long as you can tolerate me.”

  She snorted and he lifted her from the window with one arm and set her small feet down on the floor. Kane leaned closer and buried his face in the crook of her neck. Caroline smelled the way a woman should and she held him fiercely, as if they’d always known each other. He shuffled his clumsy feet to the left and back to the right, attempting to dance with her. She leaned into him, pressing her ear against his pounding heart.

  “You’re a terrible dancer,” she said, laughing softly against his chest.

  “Maybe you can teach me. The last time I did this was in the eighth grade. Sarah McGuire seemed to think that I had mad skills.”

  “Did she now?”

  Caroline sniffed a few times and he smoothed his hand across her back.

  “Keep your mind off all the bad stuff because it’s not going to happen,” he assured her. “It takes time to heal. Just live in this moment with me and I’ll take care of everything. Let’s go sit down and you can tell me all about the men in your life that you’ve whacked over the head with kitchen utensils.”

  She laughed, and it pleased him to know he could make her smile. Caroline rested her cheek against his bare chest and wiped her tears across his anchored heart.

  Chapter 6

  Kane took a seat on the couch and pulled Caroline onto his lap. She scooted down low and sat sideways with her left cheek resting on his shoulder. Her hand splayed across his heart and nothing was more intimate than the idea of her feeling every beat. His right hand still cupped the back of her neck, but he didn’t care about his discomfort. He peered over his left shoulder and glared at her feet. One was missing a shoe that fell off moments ago, but she might as well have been barefoot.

  “Take my socks off and put them on. Go on, do as I say.”

  Caroline bent over and removed his thick, white socks. She pulled each one up as high as it would go on her slender legs.

  “They’re still toasty warm,” she said with a faded sigh, leaning into his arms. He looked into her big brown eyes and her mouth quirked. “You have really big feet.”

  “Well, you know what they say about that,” he suggested, wanting to smack himself in the forehead as soon as the words left his mouth.

  “Yep. Big shoes. I once dated a guy whose feet were so small that he could have worn my high heels.” She laughed and it was a beautiful sound—like wind chimes on a summer morning. “That was back in high school. Hopefully he hit a growth spurt after I broke up with him.”

  “So you were a little heartbreaker,” he teased, feeling her smile against his neck. Kane stroked a swath of hair from Caroline’s face allowing him to see her better. To touch her beautiful skin and not feel obliterated by emotions was so liberating that all he wanted to do was touch her. Sens
ors experienced life through their hands, and it was the one thing Kane had always denied himself.

  With his fingers, he learned more about Caroline. The smooth skin on the back of her earlobe told him that her ears weren’t pierced. She had the softest hands, and she kept her fingernails short with a clear polish. No frills and he liked that. There was also a ticklish spot behind her knee. Each time he brushed his finger across that soft patch of skin, she jerked her leg and it made him smile.

  “Do you date much?” she asked curiously.

  “Not really.”

  “Liar,” she sang.

  He pursed his lips. “Here and there whenever I meet someone, I guess. I don’t go out with Sensors anymore because they don’t get… this,” he said, lifting his left hand. But his glove was still on the floor by the window. Kane squeezed his fingers into a fist out of habit.

  “Do you always wear gloves?”

  He grunted an affirmative.

  “I think that’s what your problem is, Kane.” Caroline moved to sit up and it stretched out his right arm. “We have a power, and if you never use it—” She pressed her finger on her lower lip in thought. “It’s like when you’re outside in the hot sun and the pool sounds like a great idea. You check the temperature and it’s ninety, which isn’t much lower than your body temperature. But the minute you put your toe in the water, it feels like ice. It’s shockingly cold and that’s why people always tell you to jump in. The water is your gift, Kane. You keep avoiding the pool, and every time you put your foot in the water, you get scared by the temperature. You don’t need to acclimate and slowly get used to it. Once you jump in, it won’t be so bad.”

  Kane tried to look away but Caroline got a firm grip on his jaw and turned his head forward.

  “Maybe you are more sensitive than most of us, but completely avoiding touch will only make it worse.”

  She had a point. But that would mean physical contact and Kane just wasn’t a touchy feely kind of guy. What was he supposed to do, hang out at the bar and fondle every woman who sat beside him? Not that he hadn’t thought about it.