Where the Sun Hides (Seasons of Betrayal #1)(63)

“But maybe not,” Kaz pressed.

Violet didn’t reply, but she relaxed a little more in the seat when his hand found her thigh and squeezed just under the hem of her dress.

“Tell me,” he said, “are we going to get another phone call where I have to rush you back to Manhattan?”

“Probably not.”

“Probably is not a no, Violet.”

She shivered just a little at the way her name rolled off his lips. Like he’d been thinking about saying it for days, but keeping it to himself. And when he was finally able to say it, the word spilled out like a prayer.

It was too much.

For her, she liked it too much.

“It’s a most likely not,” Violet said, shrugging. “My father had some sort of thing in New Jersey he was going to, and he’ll be there until tomorrow night when he drives back. My mother doesn’t give a shit what I do or where I am, as long as I’m not within five feet of her. My brother has holed himself inside his apartment, which is where my mother has been for the last week, much to my father’s dismay. And my friends …”

She trailed off, scowling at her reflection in the passenger window.

“The girls from the club, yes?”

Violet sighed. “Yeah.”

His hand tightened around her thigh again, making Violet swallow hard.

“Keep going,” Kaz urged.

“I suppose it doesn’t matter. All things have a course to run, and it eventually comes to an end, right?”

“Unless you’re purposely being vague, I need more to go on.”

Violet shook her head. “It’s nothing. Just drive.”

Kaz’s hand left her thigh, and she felt the loss instantly. But just as quickly as it had gone, two of his fingers were stroking the side of her neck.

“You’re sad,” he murmured.

“A little,” she admitted.

“Is that why you came down here looking for me?”

“Partly.”

“And the other part?” he asked.

Violet finally spun in her seat to face him, slowly. His hand moved with her, fingers skipping down her jaw and under her chin.

“Well?” Kaz asked, still stroking her skin.

That was some of it, too. She thought about him a lot. Too much, really. She remembered his hands on her and how that felt, so maybe she wanted a little more.

But that wasn’t all of it.

“I don’t really know,” Violet said.

Kaz nodded. “Yeah, me either.”





It wasn’t supposed to be this way.

At the very least, Kaz figured there would still be a little awkwardness between them as they entered his apartment. She had only been to his place once, but she moved around the space as though she had been there hundreds of times—like she belonged there—and as he tossed his keys on the table, shrugging out of his jacket, he found that he didn’t mind it.

Kaz liked his space, his privacy away from the world, but with Violet around, he didn’t mind not being alone.

Heading into the kitchen, he grabbed a bottle of vodka, and a bottle of wine Vera had given him as a housewarming present, holding them up for Violet to see. “What kind of night are we having?”

She pointed to the vodka.

Fair enough.

Grabbing two glasses out of the cabinet above his head, Kaz carried them and the bottle into the living room, his eyes on Violet as she got comfortable on the couch, kicking her shoes off and tucking her legs beneath her. He dropped down beside her, pouring them both a drink, then passed her a glass.

“Tell me,” he said picking up his own drink.

He was sure she would deny him again, just as she’d done in the car as they drove over, but he was willingly to ask again. And even if she didn’t give him an answer, he would just do it again until she did. He didn’t like seeing her upset. Already, he missed her smile.

Violet hesitated, then tossed back a healthy amount of vodka without a single cough. “My friends are upset with me. They’re blaming me—at least Amelia is—for getting in trouble with her father when we came to the club that night. Then there’s the fact that she hasn’t seen F-Franco.”

She stumbled over the word, but Kaz didn’t think much of it as he tried to hide his own reaction at hearing that name. He didn’t doubt that the girl hadn’t heard from him, especially when they still had the man’s heart. Vasily still had it in a cooler in the freezer of the warehouse—he was sick in that way.

“But they were here too, no? You didn’t force them.”

“Of course not, but they don’t care about that.”

“Sounds like your friends are selfish,” Kaz said, finishing off his drink, then pouring another. “Are you sure those two are your friends?”

Kaz knew all about fake friends that ultimately betrayed you. Shit, he knew family that was worse.

“I think that’s something we all learn after a while,” he settled on saying.

Violet tipped back her glass, emptying the rest of the vodka in one smooth pull. She tipped the glass in his direction, and he refilled it for her. “What’s that?”

“Not to depend on anyone else.”

“That’s … a little harsh, isn’t it?” she asked.