A sob escapes my chest, and I bury my face into my Kane doll’s hair.
But when a harsh sound cuts through the room, I freeze.
I hear another loud noise echo through the penthouse, and my heart starts pounding wildly in my chest.
Footsteps are outside the door, and I stare at it in anticipation, fully expecting Damien to come back inside and grow angry that I didn’t follow his instructions.
My mind races, my heart beats against my rib cage, and I make a concerted effort to hide the doll under the bed while I stare at the door, bracing myself for whatever is going to happen next.
For a second, nothing happens.
And then the lock clicks.
It’s such a small sound, but it might as well be a gunshot.
I stare at the handle, and it twists violently before the steel door explodes inward. The hinges scream as the door tears open so hard it slams against the wall.
And then Kane is standing there, his eyes wild as he scans the room.
For a moment, I can’t breathe.
He looks godlike as his large frame fills the doorway—his broad shoulders, his dark clothes, his thick muscles beneath his jeans and T-shirt. And then his gaze meets mine. His eyes are filled with an intensity that makes my entire world narrow to him and only him.
Kane. He’s here. In New York. In this room.
My brain tries to make sense of it, but my body moves before the thought finishes forming. Without hesitation or fear or doubt, I run straight to him.
For a split second, I’m terrified he’ll disappear—that I imagined him, that this is just another trick my mind is playing after everything that’s happened.
But he doesn’t disappear. He meets me halfway.
His hands close around my arms, and he pulls me to a stop, his eyes moving quickly over my face, my neck, my shoulders. His gaze travels down my arms, my waist, my legs.
“Did he hurt you?” The question comes out rough. “Did he fucking touch you?”
“No.” My voice breaks as the tears spill faster. My whole body is shaking. “No.”
And the moment the word leaves my mouth, something in him shifts.
His arms come around me instantly, pulling me tight against his chest, and a flow of tears starts up again, streaming down my face as I bury my face into his shirt and breathe him in.
The relief is overwhelming, consuming every nerve ending in my body, and I fist my hands in the front of his shirt. My hands shake and my knees tremble and the panic that’s been clawing at my chest since Damien locked the door is gone. Completely gone.
Kane’s here. He’s really here.
“I’m sorry,” I sob into his shoulder. “I’m so sorry.”
He pulls back just enough to look at me, one finger sliding gently beneath my chin so I have to meet his eyes. “It’s okay, Blair.”
“You were right about everything,” I whisper. “I just…I couldn’t wrap my head around it. It was so hard to—”
“I know,” he murmurs softly. “I know, baby. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”
Then his mouth is on mine. The kiss is deep and urgent, and I taste the salt of my tears between us. His hand cradles the back of my head like he’s afraid to let me go.
“You came,” I whisper against his lips.
His forehead presses against mine. “I always will.”
