Razed (Barnes Brothers #2)(98)

“Oh. Well, then.” She licked her lips. “I guess that’s . . . that’s good, right?”

He laughed and pulled her up against him. “You’re all I need.”

“Wow.”

The unfamiliar voice had Keelie pulling back. Zane resisted at first, his arm lingering on her waist just long enough to let her know he’d rather keep her where she was.

But then, he let her go and they both turned to look at the speaker.

The woman was unfamiliar, her chestnut hair swept into a complicated twist, a pair of chic, sexy glasses perched on an upturned nose. She had catlike green eyes and a pale, creamy complexion. The suit she wore was a brighter green than her eyes and she had that turned out kind of look that Keelie spent hours trying to accomplish.

The woman studied Zach for a long moment before shifting her gaze to Keelie.

“You still don’t know how to talk to people very well, do you?”

Keelie blinked, the familiarity in those words catching her off guard.

“Do I . . .”

She moved closer, light slanting across her face, and for a moment, it washed away the soft, peaches-and-cream hue, while casting her eyes into shadow.

No.

“I can’t tell you how happy I was to see somebody finally have the balls to do this,” the woman said, pausing to look down the hall that led to the courtroom where Price Vissing was currently undergoing a very, very unpleasant trial.

Somehow, things had shifted in the public eye and he wasn’t coming out smelling as sweet as he usually did.

She continued her perusal of the empty hall before turning her head to look back at Keelie. “You would have done it, wouldn’t you?”

“Done what?” Keelie asked, her voice shaking a little.

Zane slid his hand up, curved it over the back of her neck, a solid, steady warmth. It didn’t quite stop her shaking. But she took comfort in knowing he was there. Close enough to hold. To lean on.

“Testified.” As she came closer, her heels clicked on the floor. “I did hear you that day. Mom thinks I didn’t, but I did. I was just . . . depressed.”

“Son of a bitch . . . Toria.”

Victoria Kingsley angled her head, smiled. “Actually, it’s just Tori now. I kind of outgrew the goth thing a long time ago.” Then, as a sad smile curled her lips, she said again, “I did hear you. While you were down there, talking to Mom. I heard what you said. Part of me wanted to listen, wanted to tell Mom we should try. But every other part . . .” She stopped and looked around. “I couldn’t do this. Not then. And I’ve felt guilty, every day since. How many women did he hurt because I was too afraid to stand up?”

“It’s not your fault.”

Tori looked at her, lifting a brow. “And how many times have you told yourself you didn’t do enough, Katie?”

“Keelie.” It jumped to her lips before she could stop it. Turning her head, she stared out one of the tall windows. “It’s Keelie now. I . . . I had my name changed when I was eighteen. I didn’t want my mom, any of them trying to track me down.”

“I can’t say I blame you.” Green eyes narrowed, Tori said, “You never answered me.”

Keelie looked back at her. “You always did know me better than I’d like. It took me a long time to figure it out, though. We tried—you tried to tell the cops. I tried to tell them, told your mother I’d tell what I’d seen. None of them listened. At the end of it all, he was the one who took what he had no right to take.”

“Yeah.” Tori wrapped her arms around herself, shivering a little. A haunted look drifted across her face.

Keelie could have kicked herself, but when she would have said something, offered an apology, Tori looked back at her, a strange smile on her lips. “At the end of it all, it’s on Price. I let him take too much, even after that night. Gave him too much—wasted years, refusing to look at myself. It wasn’t just him. It was how the cops twisted everything around, how my dad took the money, tried to convince me it wasn’t as bad as I thought. The son of a bitch.”

If Keelie could have found that man and hurt him, she would have.

“My dad’s dead,” Tori said, offering the words like she knew what Keelie was thinking.

“Yeah?”

“Yup. He’d been drinking for a while anyway—that’s why Mom left him. But he hit it harder and harder after that. One day, it was snowing. He was sitting outside drinking. Fell asleep. Temps dropped down into the teens. They found him a few days later. He froze to death. Sitting on his porch, wearing a T-shirt and jeans.” She paused, looked away. “I guess he finally realized it was worse than he wanted to think.”

Then she shrugged, the movement almost birdlike, as if she were settling feathers into place. She looked at Zane, sizing him up. Tori had always been petite and Zane had more than a foot on her. She merely lifted a brow and then looked Keelie. “You two fit.”

Keelie looked up at him, found herself smiling. “Yeah. We do.”

Zane had been quiet until that moment, but now he held out a hand. “Zane Barnes.”

Tori accepted, shook his hand once. “I know that name.”


*

Zane studied the woman, probably as thoroughly as she studied him. “Do you now?” he asked as she pulled her hand free.