Page 49 of Keeping Kasey (Love and Blood #3)

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Kasey

Dread doesn’t even begin to describe the feeling coursing through me right now. The weight of discomfort swirling through my gut is just as physically painful as it is disconcerting.

Logan pulls his Carbon GT right up to the manor, and we don’t say a word as we get out.

He’s as reluctant to endure this dinner as I am.

We both worked more than two hours later than we were supposed to. Even Damon left earlier than we did, leaving me with a grumpy-as-ever Ford.

While things remain frosty between the cybersecurity capo and me, there’s no denying that things have changed since our talk yesterday.

It’s a subtle shift, but the tension between us has melted with a sort of unspoken agreement.

We might not like each other, but we’re at least starting to understand each other.

“We won’t stay long,” Logan says as we climb the stairs to the front doors.

“I’d prefer if we didn’t stay at all.”

“Trust me, it’s better this way. Elise would hound us for a week straight if we ditched.”

“Maybe you. I’ll be out of here by Monday.”

Logan stops three steps from the top. “Since when?”

I turn to face him, and from where I stand—two steps higher—we’re nearly the same height.

“The software is almost fully functional. I only have a few more tests to run before I get the list back. Could even be sooner.”

For someone who’s been searching for this list for eight months, he doesn’t look particularly pleased with the news.

He looks pissed.

Logan’s eyes narrow, and his jaw clenches. “And when exactly were you planning to tell me that?”

It’s the first flare of his anger that I’ve seen in days.

I shrug. “Now.”

“This isn’t something you tell me in passing. You should’ve been giving me updates about your progress.”

“I’m telling you now, and if it hadn’t come up, I’m sure I would’ve told you eventually.”

Logan studies me with a charged look that makes my hands buzz with anticipation, and something like excitement stirs in my gut. Seeing the spiteful, tyrannical side of Logan would make coming to this dinner worth it after all.

But after a long sigh, he takes the remaining steps, and by the time he stands in front of me, his demeanor hasn’t just shifted, it’s flipped on its head.

His jaw is relaxed, his narrowed eyes have eased, and his shoulders have lost their rigidity.

The flame I could’ve sworn I caught in his gaze has been extinguished, leaving a cold hollowness behind.

“In the future, I’d appreciate updates on your progress and any changes to the expected timeline,” he says in a tone that is matter-of-fact.

The excitement in my gut evaporates.

He doesn’t wait for an answer. He opens the door and walks into the manor.

For just a moment, I consider leaving. I’ve hacked into more high-security institutions than I can count. How hard could it be to hotwire a car? Sure, I’ve never driven before, but it can’t be that difficult.

There is no place on earth you could hide from me.

The mystery caller’s words snake into my head out of nowhere, and my shudder has nothing to do with the wind cutting across my skin.

I heeded the warning and kept my mouth shut, despite knowing that’s how things got so screwed up between Logan and me in the first place.

But what they have on me…

I’m not sure exactly how much they know, but regardless, I don’t take the threat lightly. Still, I can’t just bow down to the orders of someone who refuses to name themselves.

I haven’t decided exactly what I’ll do when they reach out again, but one thing is sure: I won’t be giving that list to anyone but Logan.

Whatever else happens, I can handle it. I ran once, and I can do it again.

Especially because—based on James’s questions yesterday, and the paper supplier clientele list Jace printed for Logan that I may or may not have checked out—I’m starting to think Logan’s method of finding me wasn’t the product of his investigative genius.

With a deep breath, I put one foot in front of the other until I’m at the doors I hate so much, and go inside.

The scent of marinara fills the entryway, making my stomach growl.

I hadn’t realized I was hungry.

Voices and laughter drift through the house, and for the first time, this place feels a bit like an actual home.

I peer into the kitchen before walking in.

Elise stands over the stove, cooking what looks like homemade ravioli, and a woman I don’t recognize washes dishes beside her.

She has dark skin and long black hair that falls down her back.

Her delicate features are flawless, and she wears a kind, easy smile.

Damon leans against the counter, talking animatedly to a man I’ve never met, but I know exactly who he is. Ryder Bates was Moreno’s underboss for years. He is who I had expected to be at Moreno’s side at our first meeting.

He’s as tall as Damon, with a broad build and dark complexion.

His black hair is cropped short, and he wears a pair of worn jeans and a gray tee that look far more comfortable than the suits the Consoli men insist on wearing.

I can’t see Ryder’s face from here, but I’ve seen enough pictures to know he’s handsome, with trimmed scruff outlining an angular jaw, deep brown eyes, and thick lips that rarely pull into a smile.

I step forward to peer into the living room, where James sits on the floor in front of the coffee table with a small girl no older than three or four.

She has the same dark complexion as Ryder and the delicate features of the woman—she’s undoubtedly their daughter.

The little girl reaches for a wooden piece of the Jenga game she and James play, and she pulls it from the tower without the slightest wobble.

It’s an admirable gentleness for someone so young.

The loudest voice comes from a small boy who is currently attacking Logan in the living room. He looks to be the same age as the little girl, but he shares none of her calm temperament.

His tan skin, dark hair, and wide grin wouldn’t raise any flags if I saw him on the street one day, but seeing him right next to Logan?

They look identical.

A sharp stab shoots through my stomach, and I have to wrap my hands around my torso to ease the pain.

Logan doesn’t have a son. I would have known about it.

The boy’s arms wrap around Logan’s leg, and he has one foot behind Logan’s as he pushes forward. “You’re not doing it right, Uncle Logan!” he whines.

Uncle Logan?

Logan is sporting a broad smile—a stark contrast to the apathetic mask he showed me—as he watches the boy with pure amusement. “I think you’re the one doing it wrong, kiddo. I’m not going to let you tackle me.”

The boy takes a step back and glares up. “Uncle Damon lets me tackle him.”

“Uncle Damon isn’t as strong as me.”

“Heard that,” Damon calls from his conversation with Ryder.

The sight of Logan with the small boy is too much. I think I’m going to be sick.

I can’t do this.

I turn to the door, but someone is standing at the base of the stairs, watching me.

“Kasey,” Moreno says with a nod of greeting. “Welcome back.”

His expression—while far from happy—is pleasant.

Mine is not.

“I don’t remember being welcomed in the first place,” I remind him.

He shrugs. “I had a feeling about you—which, for the record, was right.”

“You must’ve been so proud when I left.”

“I do relish any opportunity to ridicule Consoli,” he says with a nod, “but no, I was not happy. You’re finding the traitors in my family, too. I might not deal with as much sabotage as the Consolis, but I still get traitors screwing with my business.”

Sabotage?

Why didn’t Logan tell me they were being sabotaged?

Why would he?

I’m already doing what I can to get the traitors out for good.

He steps closer, stopping only when Elise is in his line of sight. “And for reasons I cannot fathom, my wife likes you. She was upset that you missed the wedding.”

I decide against mentioning that I wouldn’t have wanted to go to that wedding even on the best of terms.

As if sensing her husband, Elise turns toward us.

“Kasey!” she exclaims. She turns the stove off and pulls the other woman along as she comes over to us.

“Try not to be an asshole,” he says under his breath, eyes never straying from his wife. “She’s not the one you’re mad at.”

Moreno passes me without waiting for a response, giving Elise a chaste kiss before joining Damon and Ryder’s conversation.

“Kasey, this is Rachel,” Elise says, gesturing to the woman. “Rachel, this is Kasey.”

“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Rachel greets, holding out her hand.

I stare at her hand for a moment before reluctantly shaking it and mentally screaming at myself for getting into this weird situation in the first place.

“I’m sure you’ve heard great things about me,” I deadpan.

“As a matter of fact, I’ve heard you’re extremely talented,” she says with a gentle smile.

I don’t have anything to say to that, so I don’t say anything at all.

Once it’s clear I’m sticking with silence, Rachel clears her throat and gestures toward where Moreno, Damon, and Ryder all watch us.

“That’s my husband, Ryder, and our kids, Lyla and Dominic.

” She gestures to the two kids, and my brow rises at the obvious complexion difference between the boy and the rest of her family.

She nods at the silent question. “We adopted Dominic several months ago after his mother died.”

I study Dominic as he continues to try to attack Logan. The similarities are baffling—the hair, skin tone, mischievous eyes, and fiery spirit are all Logan .

Elise must catch my curiosity, because she leans in and says, “He’s Mason’s son.”

I whip my head around and find her watching Dominic with warm interest.

“Your brother?”

She nods. “Dominic doesn’t know that yet, but he will when he’s old enough.”

“I’ve known him since he was a baby,” Rachel explains. “When his mom passed away earlier this year, Ryder and I took him in, and he’s been with us since.”