Page 112 of Shadowed Vows: Ghost
The roar of the motorcycle bounces around us as we enter the dark parking area under Kade's apartment. He guides the bike into an empty space, cutting the engine. When he swings his leg over the seat, I hear him let out a quiet groan of discomfort.
I yank off my helmet, my heart racing. "Kade, are my parents okay? Steele knew about their security detail."
Kade removes his own helmet, his movements controlled despite his obvious pain. "They're safe. We added extra precautions as soon as you were taken."
Relief washes over me, but anxiety quickly grips my chest again. "My contact—did they make it out?"
"Damian handled your contact," Kade says, his voice dropping to a near whisper.
My stomach drops. "Handled? What the fuck does that mean exactly?" Heat rushes to my face. "He was an innocent civilian, Kade!"
Kade runs his hand through his hair.
"We tried to locate him after your meeting, but he vanished. Left his phone in a taxi heading north while he apparently slipped into the subway system. By the time we reviewed the security footage, he'd changed clothes and disappeared into the crowd." A muscle twitches in his jaw. "Guy clearly knows counter-surveillance techniques."
My stomach drops.
"The man you met wasn't Simon Cohen. Simon Cohen retired three years ago."
The blood drains from my face. My mouth opens but no words come out.
"Whoever met you was an impostor," he continues, jaw tight. "This is precisely why you should have let us manage the meet from the beginning."
I lean against the cold concrete wall, my legs suddenly weak. My fingers tremble as I run them through my hair. Sweat beads at my temples despite the garage's chill.
"Let's get upstairs," Kade says, placing a firm hand on my lower back. "We need to talk."
Those four words have never meant anything good.
We make our way to the elevator, Kade's steps measured and careful. He's favoring his left side slightly, and I frown. As we step inside, the mirrored walls reflect our tired, disheveled appearances.
"You're in pain," I say, eyeing him in the reflection. "We should have gone to medical."
Kade's jaw tightens. "I've had worse."
Of course he has. Stubborn, infuriating man.
The elevator glides upward, silent and smooth. The doors open directly into Kade's penthouse—an entire floor to himself, because of course it is.
The subtle wealth on display makes my cramped apartment feel like a shoebox. Floor-to-ceiling windows showcase the sparkling San Francisco skyline—real estate that costs more money than I'll earn in a lifetime of chasing newspaper deadlines.
I follow Kade into the living room, and I can't seem to stop myself from questioning him. "What's the deal with coming to your place instead of HQ? What aren't you telling me, Kade?"
"Because what I have to say to you isn't for team consumption." He turns, his voice dangerously controlled. "And trust me, you don't want an audience for this conversation."
Outside the massive windows, the city's lights sparkle, which feels so different from the growing tension between us.
I face Kade, ready to defend my actions, but the intensity in his eyes stops me short. There's a vulnerability beneath his anger that I've only seen once before, and it makes my breath catch in my throat.
Before I can speak, he closes the distance between us in two quick strides. His hands cup my face, rough calluses against my skin, and then his mouth crashes into mine with frantic intensity, making my thoughts blur.
His kiss carries a fierce hunger that electrifies every nerve in my body. Without thinking, I press myself against him, my fingers clutching at the fabric of his shirt as I kiss him back just as desperately.
The taste of him is intoxicating. I can feel the solid planes of his chest against me, the rapid beat of his heart matching my own frantic rhythm.
What are we doing? He was just furious with me.
Just as suddenly as it began, Kade pulls away. We're both panting, the sound loud in the quiet room. I blink, trying to clear the fog from my mind.
