People like you and me understand that the world owes us nothing, Ward had told Kane once.We know to reach out and take what we can, because if we don’t, someone else is going to do it.
Kane had tried. He’d tried and tried, yet never felt he obtained anything of real worth. Not when Ward was there to snatch it from his fingertips.
The kingpin turned up the collar of his jacket, and then he was gone, a shadow melting into the dark.
Minutes slid past.
Kane didn’t move. He simply sat there, anger sprouting from the devouring emptiness inside him. It twisted and lashed, a wild thing within his bones, leaving him tense and desperate for—something. He didn’t know what, and it made him want to scream.
Before he knew what he was doing, Kane swiped a hand across the table and sent his glass crashing to the floor. He made no attempt to avoid the spray of crystal-like fragments. Didn’t move at all, in fact. He only continued to stare blankly at the wall as second after agonizing second ticked by.
“Kane.”
Someone grabbed him roughly by the shoulders, and Fletcher swam into view. To say he was a deep sleeper would have been an understatement—he must’ve woken at the sound of shattering glass. Kane tried to writhe away from his friend’s hard stare, but Fletcher held him firmly in place.
“What happened?”
How was he supposed to answer that? Kane reached for the table again, that still-drunk part of him desperate for something else to break.
Fletcher caught his arm, face a tense mask. “Leave the fucking dishes alone.”
A distant part of Kane was aware of his unhinged behavior, but the guilt that roiled within him was a secondary torment. He needed—
“A towel,” Fletcher said. “I’ll get a towel. You’re covered in blood. Sit down.”
Kane sat, tilting his head back to look up at the ceiling. “Sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“It was Ward.”
“I figured as much.” Fletcher disappeared around the corner, returning with a cloth that he pressed harshly to Kane’s cheek. A long moment of silence stretched between them as Kane replaced Fletcher’s hand with his own, feeling his pulse beneath the fabric.
“Okay,” Fletcher said as they both relaxed by increments. “Talk.”
“Ward wants us to cut ties with Zaria.”
“Shit. What does he have against her?”
“He wouldn’t explain.”
“How long ago was he here?”
“You just missed him.” Kane removed the towel, inhaling through his teeth. “I shouldn’t have gotten her involved in the first place. I wasn’t supposed to tell anyone about the necklace other than you.”
Fletcher sank into the chair beside him. “Are she and Julian in danger?”
Wasn’t anyone in danger once Ward had his eye on them? Even if Kanedidcut her out of the plan, he didn’t trust the kingpin to let her live. Not given what she knew. “Probably.”
“And you hate that because you care about her.”
Kane immediately stiffened, and he cut his friend a look. “We need her, Fletch. You know it as well as I do. So yes, I care what happens to her.”
“That’s not what I said.” Fletcher crossed his arms, but something in his gaze had softened. “What are you not telling me?”
God, where to start? Kane pressed his thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. His temples throbbed. Damn Fletcher’s ability to read him so easily. Like the coward he was, he opted for the least important truth. “I kissed her.”
Fletcher swatted his shoulder. Lightly but with enough sting that Kane gave an automatic wince of surprise.
