Chapter Ten

She walked him to the front door, unable to quell the nervous fluttering in her belly.

“Here’s my cell phone number. Any problems, call me. Lock the door after I go and don’t open it to anyone,” Liam ordered. “I’ve got my key. The only other person who has one is the superintendent, and Jon’s not going to come in without knocking first.”

“What if it’s Marie?” She couldn’t pass up the chance to toss obstacles in his path, the verbal jousting helping settle her nerves.

“Then she’ll break the door down and arrest you. If she’s coming by this late at night, it’ll only be for that reason. Or to tell you I’ve been killed at the warehouse.”

The light joke shot deep through her heart.

“Are you going to leave me the gun?”

He paused, one hand on the doorknob. “Do you think you’ll need it?”

“I might.” Kara gestured at his boots. “You’ve got your combat knife in your boot.”

He scowled as he pulled up his jean leg, revealing the dark green sheath. “Lucky guess.”

Liam eyed her for a minute before retrieving the pistol from the small of his back. “Do you know how to use this?”

“Of course.” She said it too quickly.

“Nice try. If you don’t know, you’re a danger to yourself and others.” He tucked the pistol back away. “Tonight, I’ll leave you with all the kitchen knives. I think you’ll manage.”

“Coward.”

“Survivor.” He hesitated and for a second and she thought he was going to kiss her. “I’ll see you in the morning. Lock the door—I’ll be listening for the sound.”

“Okay.” Kara watched him leave, her heart racing. She twisted the metal knob and heard the deadbolt slide home.

On a whim she pulled the small curtain aside to see Liam staring back at her. She resisted the urge to open the door because it was too cold, and she wasn’t in the mood to fight.

At least not right now.

Liam wagged his finger at her and walked away. Kara stayed at the window until the truck rumbled out of the parking lot and into the darkness.

Now she was alone and in the bathtub, surrounded by thick, soft bubbles courtesy of a small packet she found in his medicine cabinet—obviously a gift of some sort that had gone unused.

She drew a deep breath, tamping down the fluttering in her belly.

Alone.

Kara lifted one leg and stretched it out, watching the water drip off her heel. The scalding hot water soaked into her muscles, drawing away the aches and pains of the day’s activities.

Liam hadn’t flinched at a long day of work before going in to do his shift tonight. He’d be dead tired when he got back in the morning, of that she was certain.

Dead.

The vision caught her off-guard, her hands curling around the edge of the tub as she flashed back to another time, another place.

She smiled as she stood there in the darkness, watching from the trees as Brenna and Erik embraced—they didn’t know it would be their last time together.

It’d taken some work to separate the berserker from his fellow warriors, the promises of a good fight luring him out of Valhalla. It skimmed the line of how much she was supposed to have access to in her quest, but it’d get the job done. After that, Kara would return to Valhalla as the lead Valkyrie, dragging Erik’s soul behind her as her former sister spiraled down to Helheim.

In the end, that’s all that mattered.

Kara stepped forward, ready to taunt the couple as the mammoth fighter landed near the campsite, roaring as he swung his ax.

She’d win and fulfill her mission, no matter what she had to do.

She always did.

Kara sat up with a gasp, water running down her face. Wet hair slapped her cheeks as she struggled to get a grip on the edges of the tub. She’d submerged her head while in the trance, the lack of oxygen snapping her back before anything bad could happen.

She rubbed her face, the fresh tears mixing with the scented water.

What have I done?

Her stomach twisted into knots, an icy cold ball settling in her gut.

What did I do?

Kara grabbed at the nearby towel and stood up on shaking legs, hoping they’d carry her to the couch.

“Jack. Jack!” The shout brought Liam out of his reverie, his half-eaten sandwich sitting on the table in front of him.

“Dude, pull your head out of the clouds. Last truck’s here for the night, and I want to go home early.” Harry gave a sharp laugh. “Thinking about your lady friend? You two are the talk of the town. Ex-lover shows up at your front door, demanding you take her back? Like something out of a romance novel.”

“Is that what you’re hearing?” Liam stood up.

Harry chuckled. “If you’re not interested in keeping her, why not do me a favor and introduce us?”

“Woman’s not into charity,” Liam deadpanned. “Besides, I thought you were still sweet on Lucy at the diner.”

“Maybe it’ll make her jealous.” The worker jabbed a thumb at the doorway leading to the warehouse floor. “Be nice to surprise her for breakfast if we can get out of here early.”

Liam finished the cup of coffee in two swigs. “On my way. Drop the platform and make sure the driver’s tight against the door this time. Last fellow had me nearly pitching over the edge, damned fool afraid to back up properly.”

“Gotcha.” Harry walked off, leaving Liam alone again.

He cleaned up and headed back out on the floor, his mind racing as he thought about Kara again.

Another few hours and he’d go home.

As he swung himself up into the metal machine he caught himself.

Home. To Kara.

Liam wasn’t sure when he’d started thinking of the small apartment as home and when he’d ever looked forward so much to the end of his shift.

A few hours later he strode out to his truck. It was hard not to speed on the way to his apartment building, the first rays of daylight beginning to spread out over the Ridge.

The smell of fresh bread baking drifted through the truck, and he pulled into the bakery on impulse.

Mrs. Monnetti appeared at the window and waved. He grinned as he got out of the truck and headed for the door, the thick doughy aroma already making his mouth water.

Fifteen minutes later Liam arrived at the apartment burdened with a fresh loaf of egg bread and a box holding six pastries of different types. The bread had been his initial goal, but Mrs. Monnetti had insisted on adding the sweet treats.

“The bread’s delicious, but you can’t go wrong with pastries.” She waved off the extra payment. “Bring her around sometime, and I’ll teach her how to make them on her own.”

He’d laughed and nodded, waving on his way back to the truck.

Now, as he approached the door and fumbled to dig his keys out of his pocket, he realized he was smiling. Liam gave himself a mental shake—he wasn’t used to being happy about not working, the silence between his ears sometimes a home for the saddest thoughts.

The door was still locked, and he let out a sigh of relief.

Both because it meant she was still there and that she was safe. It had crossed his mind more than once during the past few hours that she might cut and run again, taking the opportunity to vanish from his life.

“Kara?” He swung the door open, juggling the box of pastries and the bag holding the bread. “I brought breakfast.”

He paused, seeing her asleep on the sofa. The television was set on the all-news channel, the low drone of voices filling the apartment.

The sight almost broke him.

She lay on the couch, wearing one of his dress shirts with her bare feet poking out from under the dark green blanket she’d pulled down from the back of the couch. The flash of leg through a fold told him it was all she was wearing, a juxtaposition of hot and cold.

He licked his lips, wanting nothing more than to descend on her and give in to the inferno that had been raging under his skin since her reappearance in his life. But there were too many questions keeping him at bay.

He stood behind the couch and reached down, shaking her gently. “Hey. I brought breakfast.”

She turned onto her back, letting out a deep, throaty sigh that sent his heart into overdrive. Her eyes stayed closed as she flipped back away from him, mumbling something under her breath. The shirt front fell open, giving him a clear view inside.

Retreat, his inner voice screamed. Retreat.

Liam growled at the shadows and, after checking to make sure the front door was locked, went to his bedroom—frustrated and alone. As he stripped off his clothing and tossed it in the corner, he vowed to resolve this situation, one way or another. Maybe she could move in with Geraldine for the time being or…

Exhaustion washed over his thoughts and pushed him into sleep despite his body crying out for release. Liam grunted and pulled the covers close, dreaming of having her in his arms.

She roared as she swung at the woman facing her, bringing the lance down hard on the wooden stick her opponent held. The smell of burning flesh choked her nostrils, screaming and yelling coming from someplace nearby.

Kara’s chest swelled with satisfaction, the chaos she’d unleashed feeding her pride. This was what she wanted to do, needed to do in order to finish her task and return home victorious.

No matter who she had to hurt or kill.

“You don’t have to do this,” the woman pleaded. Kara recognized her as a former sister, a friend…

“Yes. Yes, I do. Because we can’t change who we are.” The spear came down again, smashing through the staff.

Kara woke with a start, her face wet with sweat. Her muscles ached as if she’d actually been in a fight.

In her heart she knew the memory was true, a part of her past.

What did it mean?

Kara looked over to see Liam’s jacket on the peg by the door.

He’s home.

She rubbed her eyes and sat up, letting the blanket fall to the floor. It’d been a last-minute decision, pulling one of his shirts out of the closet to relax in. Could have put on the track pants and sweatshirt again, but she wanted to feel…

Free.

Unburdened.

She padded into the kitchen, following the mouth-watering smell of fresh bread. The box of pastries was a welcome find. After finishing off a cheese danish, Kara headed down the hall. The door to the bedroom was ajar, and she could see Liam lying there, his bare back to her.

He looked…

Sad. Alone.

A man seeking redemption for his choices. His decisions that had sent many people to their deaths long before their time.

She finished the snack, still standing in the doorway.

Her memory might not have fully returned, but she knew she was no angel. She’d hurt those she was supposed to help and turned her back on family and friends. Now she had a second chance to make things right.

Maybe they weren’t so different after all.

Kara slipped into bed behind Liam and drew the blanket up, tucking her arm around his waist before closing her eyes.

It was a dreamless sleep, a deep rest replacing the weak, thin nap she’d had on the couch. Kara woke slowly, sensing it’d been some hours since she entered the bedroom. At some point they’d both rolled over and now he held her, curled around her protectively.

She paused, not sure what to do. It was tempting to stay and wallow in the warmth but judging from the erection nudging the base of her spine, decision time was near.

If she stayed…

His steady breathing continued for a few minutes before it hitched, a deep breath rocking her hand.

She turned over and looked at him.

Liam smiled. “Hello.”

“Hi.” She couldn’t think of what else to say.

“I’m not a good man,” he whispered. “And this won’t end well. It can’t end well.”

“I know.” Kara pressed her lips into a tight line before continuing. “But I’m tired of being alone and tired of being myself. Let me be someone else right now.”

“The woman from the hotel?” He raised an eyebrow.

“No. Someone new.” She ran her fingers through his loose, long hair. “Let’s remake each other.”

He smiled. “I think that’s an excellent idea.” He moved in for a kiss.