“Keira, this is the last time. I told you that.” Keira’s go-to reaction was always anger, especially when she was scared and right then, fright and worry overtook her, had her frowning at Kona, had her pulling away from him when he touched her. She saw the frustration on his face, that slow pull of his features that told her he wavered about what he should do. “Please don’t get mad at me.” Again, he pulled on her arms, hugging her to his chest and some of her worry eased. “Come on, get in bed and sleep. You need to rest up.” She was tired, still a bit woozy from the returning flu and the quickie against the door and she let Kona put her to bed, let him lean over her with his large arms around her waist and those tempting lips against her mouth. “I’ll call you in the morning, okay?”
She pushed him back. “Kona, no…”
“What the hell do you want from me?” She knew Kona wasn’t angry at her. He’d often been snippy, on edge since he stopped taking steroids. It was a struggle, an effort he’d told Keira that he fought every day. He’d replace that poison with her, wanting her, needing her like a drug. This anger wasn’t about her, not really. She could always tell the difference between his tempers. It was the situation, his wanting to give in to her argument that he ignore Ricky’s direction and some mild fear about the potential for something dangerous developing. Still, Kona being Kona meant that he lashed out, just like Keira, at whomever was closest. “I’m trying to cut this shit loose but I have to do this. One last time, I promise you.”
“Not by yourself.” Keira kicked off the covers, tugged Kona’s hand away from the French door handle when he tried to open it. “Call Luka. Please, Kona, don’t do this by yourself.”
“I’ll be fine,” he said, pulling his hand off the handle when she tried to stop him. “Me on North Rampart is nothing and any assholes that are there will think I’m the monster hiding in the shadows.”
That twist in her stomach grew heavier and when Keira hesitated, frown deepened, Kona picked her up, kissing her as he walked her back to her bed.
“Go to sleep, Wildcat and I’ll call you in the morning.” She couldn’t let him go, couldn’t make her arms untangle from their spot around his neck. Keira wanted him to know her fear, to take it seriously. That unnamed sensation of dread crawled into her chest, made breathing difficult and her fear must have been etched across her face. Kona’s small temper faded and he took her face in his large hand. “You worry too much, baby.” A small kiss that lingered and Keira felt the small whip of electricity move between them. Kona reared back, smiling. “I love you.”
He was off the bed and out on her balcony before Keira could reply. That burning dread in her gut only simmered more and Keira watched Kona leave around the side of her house, hurrying across her back lawn. She couldn’t let him do this on his own. She couldn’t be the only sensible voice telling him he was in danger.
Shaking her head, fighting back that lightheaded sensation, Keira dug in her bag, fishing for her phone. She thumbed through the contacts, skipping past Leann’s name until she got to the number she wanted and quickly punched the call button. Two rings, three and then her mother pounded on the door.
Keira unlocked the door and her mother didn’t wait for an invitation.
I don’t have time for this, she thought holding up her hand when her mother opened her mouth to speak.
The caller answered, a quick “Hey you,” but then her mother jerked her phone out of Keira’s hand and ended the call. “You will not ignore me, you little shit and Keira, that is the last time…”
“Mother, will you please shut up?”
She reached for the phone, sidestepping when her mother swatted at her and Keira could feel the anger billowing between them. The woman had chosen the wrong damn time to pick a fight with her and Keira’s temper rose past the feeling of worry and fear that Kona’s departure had caused.
“Don’t you talk to me like that. I know what you were doing, Keira Nicole, I heard you and…”
When her phone rang, Keira darted forward, catching the bottom half of her mother’s palm on her chin. Keira leaned back, stretching her neck to look up at the ceiling, praying that the fury in her chest wouldn’t have her doing something stupid. But as she look back at her mother, the Nokia in her fist ringing like a siren, Keira decided, just then, that she didn’t care about her mother’s anger or the drunken rage that had her sneering at Keira like she hated her.
The feeling was mutual.