Page 21 of Kane (Ghost Ops #4)

Chapter Fourteen

“Anybody touches you— hurts you —they die.”

Those words danced around Daphne’s brain for the rest of the day. She’d been looking right at him when he said it. The vehemence in his voice. The conviction.

It still made her shudder. And not in a bad way, which wasn’t a good thing. The fiercer Kane Fox got, the more she wanted to throw herself into his arms and beg him not to let go.

Not a very independent thing to do, alas. It was probably that dang Fae romance she’d read for book club. No hero was fiercer than a Fae when it came to protecting the woman he loved.

The woman he was bonded to through blood or destiny or whatever.

It was exhilarating to think there could be a man who loved you so much he’d do anything to protect you. Even sacrifice himself, which of course would never happen in a romance novel because the happy ending was crucial.

Not that Kane was in love with her. He was just a good guy whose profession was protecting people.

She thought of her dad’s enforcers. They’d protected her family because they were paid to do it.

No other reason. If the cash hadn’t appeared, or if someone had taken over the O’Malley territory by force, those men wouldn’t have done a damned thing to save her if she’d needed it.

Kane would. Payment or not. Because that’s the kind of man he was.

She tried to concentrate on work, but she kept thinking of Nathan Fader—and hearing her father’s name on Seth’s lips. When he’d mentioned Crescent City Armory, she’d thought she might throw up. It only got worse when he talked about her dad and the criminal connections.

Of course people knew John O’Malley was a crime boss. But like most crime bosses he was careful, thorough, and he knew who he could pay off. That’s why she hadn’t dared to go to the authorities. Somebody would have reported back to her dad, and she’d have been silenced.

One way or the other.

By the time Kane came to get her so they could go to the bank and then pick up her car, she’d managed to calm her racing heart enough to believe she wasn’t in imminent danger of a heart attack.

It helped that Nathan Fader hadn’t shown up to shoot.

If he had, knowing he was in the gun business and frequently spent time in New Orleans, she’d have probably walked out the back door and kept going until she reached the farmhouse and curled up into a ball on the guest bed.

Not knowing if he knew her father was almost worse than knowing. If she knew, she could make plans. Get out of town. Instead, she was in stasis. Afraid to run, afraid to stay.

She hated the uncertainty. The fear.

But she logged off her computer, grabbed her purse, and followed Kane to his SUV.

It took a couple of hours to get the cashier’s check, drive to Huntsville and pick up her car, and then return to Sutton’s Creek.

Kane insisted she lead the way back. She glanced into the rearview from time to time, making sure he was there.

He always was, the big black Yukon staying right behind her.

Not that anyone from her old life knew she was driving a silver Santa Fe, but it was still comforting to have Kane watching her back.

They’d agreed to meet everyone at the Dawg for dinner, so Daphne drove straight over there and parked. She’d thought about declining, saying she was tired, but the truth was she felt better around the guys and their women. And she needed to eat, so why not?

Warren’s old car was still in the parking lot where she’d left it.

She’d promised to get it back to him this week and he’d said there was no rush.

She was grateful for the use of it, but it felt good to have her own wheels again.

To not have to rely on anyone else to give her rides or loan her a car.

If she wanted, she could pack up and leave town. Nothing was stopping her. If she got even a hint that Nathan Fader knew her family, she could hit the road.

Except she didn’t want to go anywhere. She wanted to stay in Sutton’s Creek with her friends.

Not just friends, but a family. One she’d chosen, and who had chosen her.

It was comfortable with them, and it was fun.

Though she always worried they might make a different choice if they knew who she really was.

Or the kinds of things she’d once believed were normal.

“How’d it drive?” Kane asked, walking over as she got out of the vehicle.

She pressed the key fob to lock the doors. “It was good. No rattling or shaking.”

“No rattling or shaking is definitely good.”

“Hello, lovely people!” It was a feminine voice, raspy, as if its owner chain-smoked from the moment she woke up until she went to bed again. Which she probably did.

“Hi, Ms. Wright,” Kane said.

Colleen appeared from the direction of the Dawg.

She almost glowed in the evening sunlight.

She was wearing a purple caftan with silver thread woven throughout that sparkled when she moved.

Her hair was silvery and thick, falling to her shoulders and curling under.

She was holding a stack of paper in her hand.

“It’s twenty-percent off energy crystals at The Mystic Chick this week” She thrust a paper at them. Daphne took it. Kane did not. Colleen turned her attention to Daphne. “Reba and I are restarting our cemetery walking tours this weekend. You won’t want to miss that.”

Daphne was used to this kind of thing in New Orleans.

The city was filled with people interested in the paranormal as well as those who profited in some way—ghost walks, voodoo shops, haunted hotels.

Colleen Wright was delightfully kooky, which Daphne couldn’t say about all the mystical entrepreneurs she’d encountered in the Crescent City.

“Why did you quit the tours before?” Daphne asked, skimming the flyer for the happenings at The Mystic Chick. There was a talk on haunted furniture, a seance circle night, the cemetery tours on weekends, and how to charge your crystals using the light of a full moon.

Colleen waved her hand. “A simple misunderstanding, my dear. Reba tripped and fell into an open grave. Well, I tell you, there was much screaming and wailing because Reba was wearing a new dress designed to please the spirits, specially blessed by yours truly, and she was furious she’d quite possibly ruined it.

She was not terrified, as some have suggested. ”

Colleen sniffed as if the idea were ludicrous. Daphne, meanwhile, thought she’d scream her head off too if she fell into an open grave.

“The customers were fine, of course—and indeed it was one of our customers, a rather large man, who had to help her get out of the grave. Though he kicked up a lot of dirt trying and caused a big mess. Plus there was all the cursing, but that was mostly Reba. But I digress. Anyway, the groundskeeper was furious because the ceremony was scheduled for early the next morning due to a potential rainstorm later that day. And there was a big mess to clean up before the family arrived. Anywho, he banned us permanently, but I’ve been working on the mayor for months and she finally agreed. The Mystic Grave Walk is back!”

“That’s great,” Daphne said. “I’d love to come, but I just bought a car so I’m afraid I can’t spare fifty dollars right now.”

“No no, my dear. For you, only twenty-five. Consider it a little congratulations present on your new purchase.”

“I, um, thank you. I’ll do my best to come one night soon.”

“You do that. Well, must dash over to Kiss My Grits and drop some more of these flyers. The crystals are flying off the shelves—well, not literally. I put a stop to that, I assure you. Come get your protective crystal while they’re on sale, Miss Bryant. I have a feeling you need it.”

Colleen glided away as Daphne gaped after her.

Kane put a hand on her elbow and pitched his voice lower. “She’s not psychic, Sunshine. It’s a wild guess, nothing more. She wants to sell crystals. She’s not making a prediction.”

He prodded her toward the Dawg and she went, glancing down at the flyer again. He was right.

Of course he was right.

“You mean you don’t want to attend a seance night and talk to spirits? Or charge your crystal by moonlight?”

“No thanks.”

Belatedly, she remembered his wife had died. “Kane, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that about the seance. It was insensitive.”

He stopped and turned her to face him. “It’s okay, Daph.

It’s been ten years. I don’t fall apart over the mention of her.

People die, people live. The ones left behind learn to keep living.

I’m not upset Colleen holds seances, other than I don’t believe it works.

Colleen believes what she believes, but she also doesn’t give people hope of talking to their loved ones just to rob them blind.

Rory said that her granny used to see Colleen so she could talk to her dead kids.

They had a monthly appointment, but Colleen only charged her a dozen eggs or a gallon of fresh milk or produce from the garden.

Small things. Things a grieving farmer’s wife could afford.

She’s not a bad person, just a quirky one. ”

Daphne was glad to hear it. If Colleen had been fleecing people, it would have been a major disappointment. “I like her. She was one of the first people to welcome me to town. She even told me to be prepared because my job at the Wheeler Inn wouldn’t last very long.”

“She’s a busybody, but I like her too. She makes me laugh. Most of the time anyway.”

She studied him. “You sure you aren’t upset about the seance crack?”

His expression was clear. “I’m not upset. Swear it.”

“Well, I’m still sorry I said it. I wasn’t thinking.”

“Do you know everything about everyone you meet? Do you know what kind of innocent remark might be insensitive to someone because it brings up bad memories?”

She shook her head.

“Right. Don’t overthink these things, Sunshine. Somebody gets upset, you apologize and move on. Somebody tells you it’s no big deal, you move on. Got it?”