Page 16 of Fate

Pounding into the wet heat of my Kathleen from behind.

Blond head tipping back, screaming out in pleasure. Hair the wrong shade.

Grinding my hips and pumping my release intoher.

Falling back on thebed.

Waking up alone and hungover.

I hadno idea that night had the power to get any worse. For over two years I’d pined over Kathleen. Sure, I saw a few women. Mostly to scratch a sexual itch. No one can go forever cut off from physical touch. Unless that person is Kathleen Bennett.

Chase tells me she’s not so much as dated a man since breaking it off with me six months after her first rounds of burn treatments. Back then I still had hope. And then, all of a sudden, I see her again. I haven’t laid eyes on my girl in what feels like forever. And she responded like the old Kat would have. Shy, sweet, unafraid of my touch. Yearning for it, even.

It took everything I had not to get stiff seeing her again, smelling her, feeling the softness of her skin at her nape. I’d always loved the way she smelled, especially near the hairline behind her ear. My secret spot and an erogenous zone on her. I wanted so badly to kiss, lick, and nibble that patch of skin, sink my teeth in and never letgo.

Fuck, my dick is getting hard thinking about it. I even touched her scarred hand. She stiffened, but she didn’t run away. The first time in years she hasn’t run away. There were no tears, no harsh words, almost as though a peacefulness had come over her. Much like the woman I once knew and loved. Still love, even after these last couple of years. Seeing her again…

Christ. What the hell am I going todo?

Nothing.

Until I find out the results of the DNA tests, there is nothing I can do. But what a thrill it was to see her respond to me. Kissing her, even briefly, brought back everything I’d ever felt for the woman. Years later, and she’s still capable of bringing me to my knees. If Chase and Gillian hadn’t been there, I would have pushed harder. Thank God I didn’t. I have no idea what’s going on in my own life right now. At least I know she’s doingwell.

Chase has begrudgingly kept me apprised of her life—otherwise, I wouldn’t know a thing. Bastard. He’s become close to her. At first, per my request. I made him promise he’d take care of my girl. I even went old school and made him spit in his hand and shake on it. We’ve always been more than cousins. More like brothers. When he came to live with us at such a young age, his mother in a coma, my mother having just died, we bonded on a brotherly level that could never be broken. Now he’s the only link I have to her. If I’d been able to say those three fucking words, maybe things would be different.

Even at the risk of losing her, I still couldn’t saythem.

I loveyou.

I love you, Kat.

I love you, Kathleen.

Over and over I tried to tell her. Proved it every day with my actions. Bent over backward to help her heal, but it wasn’t enough. She wanted those three words, and I couldn’t give them to her. Every single time I’d attempted to utter them, move the breath past my lips, I’d remembered the last time I said them, and the pain and heartache would come back, stealing the words from me once again.

After all this, I’m not sure it would have mattered. If I’d said them that night, maybe… She’d asked time and time again if I loved her. And of course I’d tell her I did, but she wanted to hear it. I wanted to hear it. All the time, I made her tell me. Needed it from her, but what she gave, I couldn’t give back. Maybe that was the nail in the coffin of our relationship. Still, it was hard to fathom it would end the way itdid.

I treated her well, like the goddamned goddess I thought she was. Nevertheless, once the fire happened, she lost something. As if the fire had taken away her ability to live. She gave up. Nothing seemed to work to pull her out of her funk, and with each painful treatment it got worse. A little bit more of the woman I loved withered away until I could hardly recognize what wasleft.

I pull up to my house and the massive black wrought-iron gate begins to glide open. As I’m waiting, a white LabCorp Genetics minivan pulls up behindme.

Seeing the van makes the skin on my arms prickle, and a layer of sweat coats my pits and forms at my hairline. I take a long, slow breath and get out of the car. Whatever happens, I’ll deal with it. One step at atime.

The driver is a young college-age kid. Couldn’t be more than twenty years old. He’s wearing his company hat backward on his head and his unbuttoned shirt reveals a tie-dyed shirt underneath.

“Hey, man, how goes it?” the courier asks, ruffling through a bigbag.

“Fine. You got something for me?” Iask.

“Totally, dude.” He pulls out a nine-by-twelve-inch envelope. “Here you go!” He slaps the envelope into my hand with more exuberance than the situation warrants. At least he likes hisjob.

“Thanks,” I mumble under my breath.

“Yo! Wait up. Need your signature, or my boss will have my balls. And she’s a total tight-ass wench.” He grimaces.

I chuckle, remembering the days when I had to answer to someone. Owning my own business affords me the luxury to come and go as I please and work when I want to. I’ll never go back to working for someoneelse.

The kid holds out a clipboard. I scrawl my name across it and give a salute before I make my way up the steps.

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