Page 27 of Keeping Kasey (Love and Blood #3)

CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

Logan

“For the hundredth time, I can walk on my own.”

“For the hundredth time, I don’t care,” I say, lifting Kasey from the car and into my arms in one smooth motion.

Despite her initial protest, she only glares as she wraps her arms around my neck.

I kick the door shut and carry her up the stairs to the manor. The double doors are open, and my brothers stand at the entrance waiting for us.

“I need my bags,” Kasey protests.

“I’ll come back for them.”

“You mean you’ll have someone else get them.”

I kiss her temple. “Exactly.”

As we reach the entrance to the manor, Kane comes racing outside to meet us. Kasey twists in my arms, and I gently set her down just as the dog reaches us. She drops to his level with a wide smile as she pets him.

“Hey, boy. I missed you,” she says, and when she stands, I’m there to help her.

She shoots me the same look she’s been giving me all day—the one that says she’s fine and doesn’t need my help.

It’s a look I’ve been ignoring.

Besides, the arguments are half-hearted. If Kasey really didn’t want me taking care of her, she’d put up one hell of a fight.

“The one time I’m not with you, you go and get attacked,” Damon chides.

“It wasn’t exactly my intention.”

“Well, it won’t be happening again,” he says, stepping up to hug her.

Kasey’s stiffness melts into a reluctant acceptance as she returns the hug, and while it’s amusing in itself, I’m not fond of anyone else touching her—my brother included. The second she pulls away, I weave my fingers with hers and tug her into my side.

“Have someone bring the bags up,” I say.

Damon walks past us with a shake of his head. “No need. I’ll bring them up.”

James and I share a look.

Sobriety suits Damon.

“I’m glad you’re okay,” James tells Kasey, and I appreciate that he doesn’t try to hug her.

“Thanks,” Kasey says, then gestures to Kane. “And thank you for taking care of Kane while I’ve been away.”

“I think he’s starting to like me more than you,” he says, patting the dog’s head.

When Kasey snaps her fingers, Kane darts to her side, looking up at her with wide eyes and a wagging tail.

“I don’t think I have to worry about that,” she says with a triumphant smile.

Ten minutes later, when Kasey is settled in her room, I meet Damon and James in my office.

I don’t spend much time here—I prefer to work from the base—but for conversations like this, even the living room feels too public.

The three of us fall into the chairs around the low coffee table. I chug a bottle of water, but I’d kill for a glass of whiskey.

I relay everything I know about the attack to my brothers, and we all take a moment to process it.

“Brandon had to be an absolute idiot,” James says, shaking his head.

“Lucky, too. If Kasey hadn’t killed him, I would’ve made that bastard suffer for touching her,” I grate out.

James narrows his eyes. “And Ford.”

“Yeah, him, too.”

“Why would Brandon tell Ford that Matteo needed him?” Damon asks.

I swear, sometimes I wonder if there’s a brain inside that idiot’s head.

“To get him out of the room,” I say, each word slow and packed with irritation.

“Obviously,” Damon drawls with a glare. “But that buys him a few minutes, tops. If he intended to assault her, he didn’t come up with a very good excuse.”

“What are you suggesting?” James asks.

“Nothing yet, just stating the facts. Maybe he really did believe that would be enough time, but it doesn’t seem likely to me.”

The insinuation sparks the flame, and my chest burns.

One breath. Two. Three.

“Are you saying Kasey’s lying?” I ask, my tone dropping to a warning.

Damon raises his hands. “I didn’t say that, but you personally vetted Brandon. Does this sound like something he’d do?”

“I wasn’t looking for a morally righteous candidate.”

“I’m not talking about morality —I’m talking about intelligence.”

I stand and step toward Damon. “Kasey was attacked, and Ford was shot, so whatever Brandon did, it obviously wasn’t rooted in intelligence .”

He stands, but there’s nothing offensive about his posture.

“I only meant—”

“What do you have against Kasey?” I snap. “I thought you liked her.”

“I do, but that doesn’t mean I can ignore the logical faults in her story.”

“So, you do think she was lying?” James asks.

“I think there’s more to the story, but that doesn’t necessarily mean she lied.”

James looks at me with an expression that asks me to hear him out. “It’s possible that there’s more to it than Kasey remembers. She may get some memories back.”

I sigh, turning my back to them to look over the front lawn.

“You guys didn’t see what I saw. She was…” I shake my head. “This is all my fault.”

“No, it isn’t,” James says, coming to stand at my side. “You had protection on her. You did everything you could.”

“And it didn’t matter. She was attacked in one of my bases by one of my men.”

“At a time when we know we’re compromised,” Damon adds.

James considers that. “Brandon could’ve been aligned with Mason.”

That would mean Brandon knew why Kasey was hired in the first place, and he was intent on stopping her. It’s a legitimate—and very likely—possibility, but it poses one major question.

“But then”—I begrudgingly look to Damon—“if he was intent on stopping her, why wouldn’t he just kill her?”

If Brandon was willing to shoot Ford, it means he went into the situation accepting that he likely wouldn’t walk away. If he was willing to risk his life, why wouldn’t he just make quick work of Kasey and run?

Damon has the good sense not to appear smug.

“Kasey said she stalled him. Did she say how?” James asks.

I shake my head.

James pulls in a long breath. “I’m sure we’ll get more answers as Kasey recovers and gets her memories back.”

“Either way,” I say, “it’s time to tell her everything.”

I knock on Kasey’s bedroom door, and her low voice calls me in.

When I walk inside, I find Kasey sitting at her vanity, prepping the bandages to go over the gash on her forehead. She’s wearing cotton shorts and an oversized T-shirt, her wet curls cascading over one shoulder.

There’s no makeup on her face, and the pure authenticity of Kasey strikes me with its beauty.

I walk across the room to her, and she meets my eye through the mirror’s reflection.

“Miss me already?”

“As a matter of fact, I intend to keep you in my sights until further notice.”

Her smile is small but genuine. “You know, considering the type of people I do business with, one attack is an excellent track record.”

She meant it as a joke, but I don’t find the least bit of humor in the fact that the one and only time she’s been harmed was under my watch.

“I would’ve preferred to keep it at zero.”

Kasey notices the change in my tone and turns in the chair to face me. Her expression is pleading, silently asking me not to taint her good mood.

I oblige with a single nod.

“You know,” she starts, glancing at the bandages on the vanity. “I got a nasty cut in shop class back in high school, and it was the last time I needed a bandage for anything other than a paper cut.”

“Allow me,” I say, and kneel to get a better look at the wound.

Though my attention is on the gash that still fuels a wild rage inside me, I catch the way Kasey’s eyes dilate as they track my movements.

The wound looks clean, but I still meticulously wipe it with antiseptic as she regards me speculatively.

“What?” I ask.

She averts her eyes, and my favorite shade of red spreads over her cheeks.

“Talk to me, beautiful.”

“This is the second time you’ve knelt for me,” she says, biting back a grin. “It’s unnerving.”

“Try picturing you in shop class.”

Her smile widens, and I take it as a personal victory.

“The act of kneeling is not inherently weak,” I say, placing the bandage carefully over her forehead. “It’s the reason behind the action that dictates whether it’s from a place of strength or weakness.”

“And what is the reason behind the action?” she whispers.

With her bandage secure, I hold her cheek in the palm of my hand—a feeling I may be addicted to.

“Taking care of you isn’t something I’m ashamed of.”

She leans in, and the kiss is slow and so sweet. I’d be content to spend the rest of my day right here, but I came to get Kasey for a reason.

Reluctantly, I pull away. “Come on.”

“Where are we going?” she asks, though she takes my hand and follows me down the stairs.

“It’s time to tell you why you were really hired.”

We enter the office, and I’m relieved to find that Damon is nowhere in sight. Just because sobriety has made him slightly more valuable than a wet tissue doesn’t mean I appreciate his input.

James is leaning against my desk, and I pull Kasey to sit beside me on the sofa.

“All right,” she says, dropping her hands on her lap. “Lay it on me.”

“You already know that Moreno kidnapped Elise a few months ago,” James starts, and Kasey nods. “Mason is the one who told him where to find her.”

“He’d been working for Moreno for five years,” I confirm. “While Moreno used Elise to blackmail my father, Mason used the entire situation to initiate a hostile takeover.”

“That’s how they died?” she asks with a furrowed brow. “Mason and your dad?”

I nod. “He tried to kill the rest of us, too.”

“We know that Mason has followers across the bases between our two families, but we need a way to draw them out,” James says. “There’s no way he only communicated with them outside of the bases, and if they used an external program, Ford or Kade would’ve found it by now.”

“You think there’s a comms program embedded in your database,” Kasey concludes.

“And we need you to find it without raising suspicion so we can get a list of exactly who aligned with Mason,” I finish.

Kasey nods, but she doesn’t say anything for a long moment, and her concentration makes me think she’s in more pain than she’s letting on.

“So?” James draws. “Think it’s something you can do?”

Her face breaks into a sardonic smile.

“It sounds like something I could’ve done from the comfort of my home,” she notes dryly.

I drape an arm over her shoulder and pull her into me. “And deprive us of the pleasure of your company?”

She rolls her eyes but relaxes into me.

James pretends not to notice our teasing. “Moreno has agreed to spare Kade to finish the security installation in Detroit, and we’ll have you start this project as soon as you’re back.”

“Tomorrow,” she says. “I’ll start tomorrow.”

“Absolutely not.”

She gives me her signature challenging glare.

That’s my girl.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. You’re not going anywhere until you’re better.”

“That’s ridiculous. I’m fine.”

“Kasey, you have a concussion,” James says in a measured tone. “As soon as you’re medically cleared, you can start the project.”

She looks between James and me, and I can see the mental battle of whether or not to push. When a pained cringe forces her eyes shut, she huffs a reluctant sigh.

“Fine,” she mutters.

I kiss her temple, and her lip twitches, fighting a smile she doesn’t let loose.

“Come on,” I say, and pull her to her feet. “The sooner you rest, the sooner you can start.”

Right before we pass through the doorway, she stops. “What are you going to do with them? Mason’s followers.”

Any lightheartedness in the room evaporates, and James and I share a charged look before I tell her, “We’ll execute every traitor.”

Kasey’s lips press together, and she swallows.

It’s the answer she expected, even if it isn’t the one she wanted.

“Why? For revenge?” she asks in a tight whisper.

“We’re likely talking about a hundred men, minimum,” James explains. “If we don’t do something to get rid of them, they could tear our families apart from the inside out.”

“We have no choice,” I finish.

After a long moment, Kasey nods.

Whether she agrees or not, she accepts the answer.