“That’s good news,” Mel says encouragingly. “You should be proud of the part you played in making that happen.”
I don’t know if it’s pride I feel. Mostly shame that I was part of the reason my father conducted those experiments in the first place. I also can’t deny an overwhelming sense of relief I was able toprotect Ross and Mel, as well as Kane, from any charges laid against them. The only person who will see the inside of a jail cell is Marius.
Mel gestures to the house. “Well, lunch is ready and I know Ross is hungry. Then again, he’s always hungry.”
I accompany Mel into the house. After washing my hands in the bathroom, I head to the dining room, my eyes widening at the spread of colorful dishes on the table. “This looks amazing.”
“We prepared some of your favorite dishes,” Ross says. “We also prepared a surprise for you.”
Everything in me stills. I sense his presence even before he says anything.
“Amy.”
I haven’t heard his voice in six months, but I would recognize that deep baritone anywhere. Slowly, I turn around.
Kane is standing at the entrance to the dining room. My shock is so great I can’t speak. My eyes, however, eat up the sight of him. His tall frame seems thinner, his skin paler, his dark hair a little longer than the shorter cut he favors. But those gray eyes are the same. They still cut straight into my soul.
I tear my gaze away from Kane and glare at Ross and Mel. Written on both their faces is a mix of delight and apology.
“Uh, surprise,” Mel announces.
“Hopefully a good surprise,” Ross adds. When I stare at him without saying anything, he clears his throat and says hastily, “Yeah, we’ll, uh, leave you two alone for a bit.”
They edge their way out of the room, and I hear Ross mutter to Kane, “Try not to take too long, will you. I’m really hungry.”
Kane barely acknowledges him, his gaze fixed on me. “You’re blonde again,” he says finally.
My initial shock passes and resentment simmers up. No, we’re not doing small talk. “Six months,” is all I say to him.
He closes the distance between us, stopping only inches away. “Six months of hell without you,” he says in a low, rough voice. “Every day felt wrong without you in it.”
I press my palms to my thighs to stop from touching him. Or hitting him. I’m so close to doing both. “Why?” I whisper, my throat tight and raw.
“I had to make sure you were safe. And that meant staying away from you. At least until things died down.”
“So what does that communicate to me?” I demand, my voice cracking. “That we’re not there for one another when our lives are messy and complicated? You disappeared when I needed you the most!”
“You think I haven’t kept tabs on you?” he asks quietly, fiercely. “You had to work through things too. As much as it nearly broke me to stay away, I needed you to be sure your feelings for me were real and not some psychological hang-up as a result of the kidnapping.”
I grasp the one thing he said that puzzles me. “You kept tabs on me? How?”
“I’ve been watching you.” He pauses. “And I’ve been in contact with your father.”
My mouth drops open in astonishment. “What?”
“I paid him a visit after he released all his lab animals. We had a bit of a rocky start. Your dad has an impressively solid right hook”—he rubs his jaw and I let out a disbelieving gasp—“but over time we’ve come to a wary truce.”
Anger rushes through me. “You refused to pick up the phone to contact me and yet you got in touch with my father.”
Kane rests his palm tenderly against my cheek. “I knew that if I wanted any kind of relationship with you I had to build a relationship with your father. I doubt we’ll ever be friends, but at least we’re on speaking terms.”
I want to slap his hand away, slaphimfor all the grief he’s caused me these past months. Instead, I lean into his touch. “I can’t believe my dad didn’t say anything.”
“I think he was hoping I’d disappear and get as far away from you as possible,” Kane says ruefully. “But I’m not going anywhere. Not without you beside me. Not ever again.”
My throat burns with the effort ofholding back my tears. Kane is making an effort with the man he once called a monster. He’s doing it for me.
“Amy, I want to be a part of your life,” he says steadily. “I want forever with you. Every ordinary day. Every hard one. All of it.” He swallows. “That is, if you’ll have a reformed activist who’s learned exactly where his heart belongs.”
