RAZING KAYNE UNCORRECTED EXCERPT

For those of you waiting patiently - or not so patiently - I thought I'd give you a sneak peek.

So, without further ado. An UNCORRECTED excerpt of Razing Kayne.




PROLOGUE



Santa Barbara California,
Two years ago.

Officer Kayne Dobrescu pulled into his designated parking space, shut off his Titan Sidewinder Softail motorcycle—a holdover from his bachelor days—and let out a heavy sigh, staring at the apartment building his family called home.
God, he was tired. No, exhausted—mentally, physically, emotionally exhausted.
He'd just finished the second of back-to-back double shifts, and it had been ten days since he'd had a day off. Officers were discouraged from working so many hours for safety reasons, but the department had been seriously short-staffed lately, and Kayne desperately needed the money. He had a wife and three precious children who depended on him for everything.
He hated how little time he got to spend with them these days. It seemed like he only ever saw them anymore when they were sleeping, and he missed them with every fiber of his being. But he was the sole provider, and they depended on him to keep a roof over their heads and food in their bellies, and ensure they were cared for while he worked.
Resigning himself to the inevitable argument that he was sure would ensue sometime tonight between him and his wife, he unstrapped his helmet and climbed off his bike, thinking of the three bright spots in his dreary world. As tired as he was, he wanted to spend time with his kids. So, he'd lock up his gun and dump his duffel bag full of duty gear in his closet, pack up two toddlers and a baby, and head to the park. There he’d spend the afternoon pushing swings, rolling around in the grass, chasing them through the sand and racing them down the slide;all the while listening to their sweet little voices say, “Again, Papa, do it again!” followed by uncontrollable giggles of delight.
Kayne was grinning by the time he reached the door. He made a big procession of getting his keys out and noisily rattling them as he unlocked the door, knowing they would hear and be ready to pounce. He pushed open the door, bracing for impact.
Deafening silence greeted him.
He glanced toward the corner, only to see the stroller in its usual place. Reason said they could be anywhere, but his gut screamed something was very, very wrong
Instinct trumped reason. He palmed his service weapon and began searching for the unseen threat. Living room, clear. Kitchen, clear.
Senses on high alert, he eased around the corner and made his way down the hallway. As he reached the bathroom door, an unidentifiable noise stopped him in his tracks. After a moment he heard it again, a soft sob. Oksana.
With little regard to his own safety he pushed open the door, having no clue what he was about to find within, but needing to know his family was safe. His terrified wife, Oksana, stood over Niki and Natalia's bodies. She was fully dressed and sopping wet. Both children lay prone on the floor, wrapped in towels.
For one brief second Kayne thought she'd looked happy to see him, but then it registered what was wrong. Niki and Natalia lay unmoving, their skin blue, their sightless eyes staring at the ceiling. His children were dead.
“My God, Oksana, what have you done?” A part of him, the cop part, realized there was no chance of bringing them back, but the father in him fell to his knees, needing desperately to try and save his children. Christ, she’d drowned them. She’d fucking drowned them.
“Call 9-1-1!” he shouted, even as he began to administer C.P.R. He checked Niki, who was closest, and confirmed what he already knew. No pulse, no respiration. Sealing his mouth over his son's, he gave him two quick breaths before turning to his daughter to repeat the process. Somewhere in the back of his mind he wondered where Tasha was, but, right now, Niki and Natalia needed him. He had to focus on them.
Kayne had no idea how long he'd been administering to his children—breathe for Niki, breathe for Natalia, begin chest compressions on both simultaneously, repeat process—when the unmistakable sound of a bullet being expelled and a new round chambered in a semi-automatic pulled him out of panic.
Kayne stilled and looked over his shoulder at Oksana.
“I'm so sorry.”
Her voice was barely a whisper. The firearm was pointed toward him, held in a violently trembling hand. How the hell had she gotten a hold of his service weapon?
She spoke again, but he couldn’t hear her over the rush of blood pumping through his body. A look of determination crossed her face, and she swiftly turned the gun on herself, placing it against her head. Before he could stop her, before he could do more than shout, “No!” she pulled the trigger, doing the only thing she could to him that was worse than killing him.
Leaving him to live with the knowledge he'd failed his children and his wife.
 


CHAPTER ONE



Snow.
Shitloads of it, as far as the eye could see.
Usually when people thought of Arizona—if they bothered to think of it at all—they pictured Phoenix with its desert and cacti, not realizing that mountain communities like Payson existed. With an elevation of 5,157 feet, Payson resembled the northwestern suburbs of Denver topographically and climatically speaking, though it was home to a mere thirty-thousand full-time residents.
More than seventy miles from the nearest city, tucked between the Mogollon Rim to the north, the Hellsgate wilderness to the east, Mount Ord to the south and the Mazatzal Range to the west, Payson provided a gateway to some of the best hunting, fishing, and camping areas in the state. In short, the sleepy little town was an outdoors-man’s paradise.
Though he'd simply been trying to outrun his past, somehow State Trooper, Kayne Dobrescu had managed to snag one of the most coveted assignments the Highway Patrol offered. He'd gladly take a little snow in winter over the 120 degree weather on the desert floor he'd been putting up with for the past two years.
The radar gun whined, alerting him to a speeding vehicle, and Kayne glanced up from his paperwork. The midnight-blue Tahoe was traveling twelve miles an hour over the posted speed limit, on a dark highway, through an area known for nighttime elk migration. Tangling with one of those beasts could almost ensure a fatality.
By the time he'd tossed his paperwork on the passenger seat, maneuvered his patrol car out of its hiding spot and onto the highway, and activated his emergency lights, the Tahoe was pulling over. He liked cooperative drivers. While it wasn’t necessarily an admission of guilt, it went a long way in his book and usually meant the difference between a warning and a ticket.
Kayne called the traffic stop in to dispatch, noting the vanity plate: IM 10-7, a radio call sign officers used to signal offduty. He exited his patrol car. The interior lights in the Tahoe came on, affording him a dim view through the tinted windows as he approached the vehicle.
A quick glance inside told him the driver was a woman with a car full of young children. Two of them small enough to be in safety seats, all four sound asleep.
“Good evening, ma'am—”
“Sorry,” she said at the same time and handed over her license and registration before he’d requested it. She wasn’t strikingly beautiful, but she was more than girl-next-door pretty. She had long curly hair, not really blond, not brown either, but a dozen shades in between. It fell across her shoulders and disappeared down her back, leaving the ample curves of her breasts on display beneath a clingy pale blue sweater.
At the touch of her hand, he took a quick step back. Damn! He had no business thinking about how nicely those breasts would fill his hands.
“Been pulled over before, huh?” he asked, all business. Something about her made him want to flirt, just a little. A foreign emotion, one he’d best steer clear of.
“Now why would you assume something like that?” she said innocently. Too innocently.
So she wasn’t above a little harmless flirting either. Hm…Was she trying to get out of a ticket or did she feel the spark too? And why the hell do you care?
“So, what am I going to find if I run this?” He glanced at the license. Jessica Hallstatt. He didn't pay much attention to her stated height and weight—they were rarely reliable, though from what he could see, she was close to five-foot-three and about 130 pounds. He did note she was three years younger than his own thirty-four years.
“That's a really good question. Last I heard, they still hadn't had any luck pinning those murders on me. You know that whole lack of physical evidence is such a hindrance, and since I always Priority Mail my drugs...” She paused tapping one slim finger against her chin, as though deep in thought. “I don't know, you tell me.” She laughed, revealing a little dimple in her left cheek.
Kayne shook his head and introduced himself. He had to touch her again.
She grinned. “I heard we had a rookie in town. I dispatched for Payson Police until two years ago.”
Kayne leaned against the door while they quietly made small talk for several minutes. Then one of the kids made a noise, reminding him that he had no business flirting with this woman, and so, he said, “Keep your speed down and take care of those kids.”
“Nice to meet you.” Jessica gave a tired smile. “And thanks for the warning instead of a ticket. I'd say I won't do it again, but I think we both know that would be a lie, and I’ve tried to make it a habit of only lying to myself.”
Kayne's mind drifted to Jessica time and again throughout the rest of his shift. He found himself recalling the way his skin had tingled at the sound of her slightly sultry voice, or the way his gut clenched at the feel of her smooth delicate palm brushing against his larger calloused one. Each time he pushed those thoughts away. Sure she was pretty enough with that heart-shaped face and sassy little dimple, but she had to be married. Even if she wasn't, she screamed forever, and he wasn’t that man anymore..
It wasn't until later that night, when he took off his uniform, that he realized he still had her driver's license and registration. He'd tucked it into his shirt pocket, as he did on any stop, and forgot about it.
“Damn.” He didn’t need a distraction no matter how sexy that dimple was.

***
The next morning, Kayne woke to the sound of his phone. He debated whether to answer for three solid rings. It had interrupted a very erotic dream involving a petite blonde with huge, whiskey-colored eyes. He had no business fantasizing about Jessica, he thought, even as he reached down and fisted his throbbing cock, giving it a couple of lazy strokes to relieve some of the ache before he answered the phone.
“'Lo,” he grumbled into the phone. By the sound of radio traffic in the background, he knew dispatch was calling.
“Morning, sunshine.”
Candice. No one should be that happy this early in the morning.
“Sarge needs you to cover day shift.”
“When?”
“Uh, now?”
“Great.” Kayne sighed. Apparently sleep was overrated.
“If it makes you feel better, he has someone to cover your shift so you can take me out tonight.”
Kayne wasn't sure if she was joking or hinting, so he felt it best to nip it in the bud with a simple, “I don't date.”
Before she could respond, Kayne heard, “Eleven-three-two traffic!” in the background—an officer calling in a traffic stop. Thankfully, it would keep her from questioning him further. He hung up, climbed out of bed and into the shower, pretty sure his day was sliding downhill fast.
After a quick shower, Kayne threw on a clean uniform, strapped on his bullet resistant vest and duty belt, and headed out the door.
Following a cursory safety inspection, he settled into his patrol car, ready to begin his shift. One of the advantages—and sometimes disadvantages—of working in a remote area was having a take-home vehicle, thus allowing him to respond immediately to afterhours emergency callouts.
“Hey, you eat yet?” Del St. Phillips, a seasoned State Trooper asked when Kayne radioed 10-8. His on-duty status.
Kayne laughed. “That requires cooking, and cooking requires going to the grocery store.”
“How about the Knotty Pine?”
“The place everyone says has great biscuits and gravy?”
“Yep.”
Kayne was all for Del’s suggestion and headed toward the restaurant. When he arrived, Del was already in the parking lot. Kayne shook his hand and followed him into the restaurant. Though the sign read Please Wait to Be Seated, Del headed directly to a booth in the back corner. “The girls always save the corner booth for the officers that come in for breakfast.”
After ordering the house special—eggs, bacon, hashbrowns, and a side of biscuits and gravy—Kayne asked, “Hey, you know a Jessica Hallstatt?”
“Sure do, why?”
“I just need her address.” When Del continued to stare at him he elaborated. “I pulled her over for speeding last night and forgot to give her license back. There's just a P.O. Box listed.” With so many rural locations lacking proper addresses, Arizona had allowed box numbers until just recently. Most licenses were good until a driver reached 65, so updating has been a pain.
Del nodded. Del leaned forward, his eyes narrowing slightly. “Did you ticket her?”
“No.” Truthfully the thought hadn’t crossed Kayne’s mind.
It seemed to be the answer Del wanted. He nodded and said, “She lives out on Highway 260, the big place in the meadow. Hallstatt House, it's called. ”
“Wow, that's some house,” Kayne said. The thing had to be well over twenty-thousand square feet. With its battlement-topped towers and stone façade, it reminded him of a castle. “What does her husband do for a living?”
Del continued to study him for a minute. “He's dead.”
That got Kayne's attention like nothing else. He refused to think about why.
Del gave a heavy sigh. “It's not a secret, so I'm not gossiping, mind you. Her husband was a fire-medic. About two years ago, he responded to a motor vehicle accident down on Corvair Curve. There was an equipment failure, and he couldn't extricate before it exploded. He died later at the hospital. Jessica built Hallstatt House with the award from the wrongful death suit. It's an Event Center, in addition to their residence.”
Kayne hadn't gotten a good look at the kids last night, but he was pretty sure the youngest wasn't much older than two. About the age his oldest daughter, Natalia had been. He wished, not for the first time, that Oksana had spared his children when she decided to end her life. How had Jessica handled finding herself suddenly left with four children to raise on her own? He knew it couldn’t have been easy, but did she realize how lucky she was? He would give anything to still have his with him. “You okay?” he heard Del ask and realized he’d been staring off into space.
“Yeah, sorry.” He tried for a smile. He couldn’t explain his feelings at that moment, even to himself. Sadness for Jessica’s loss, inexplicable jealousy that she still had her children. Anger, always fucking anger.
“I guess you two share that in common, don't you?” Del asked speculatively.
“What do you mean?” There was an edge to his voice that Kayne couldn't help.
“I heard you lost your wife.”
“You heard I lost her or killed her?” Kayne asked, the anger seeping through.
Del met his gaze square on and held it. “I heard she died, but did you? Kill her, I mean.”
“She was the only one who committed murder that day. She drowned our children—my children—before killing herself.”
Initially, he'd been the prime suspect in his wife's death, and it had been splashed all over the media. The initial responding officers hadn't believed his story. Oksana had used his service weapon, and due to the bathroom’s close quarters, Kayne had been covered in higher amounts of gunpowder residue and body matter than should have been on someone who was several feet away when she pulled the trigger. The fact that the detectives couldn't locate Kayne’s infant daughter Tasha only compounded the issues. Thankfully, once they received the autopsy reports, they'd eventually concluded that Oksana had killed the children. Believing she must have dumped Tasha's body somewhere before he'd arrived home, they'd searched dumpsters and landfills for weeks then dragged local waterways, all to no avail.
Unable to return to an apartment filled with so many memories and the stamp of such tragedy, Kayne had stayed with a buddy for a couple months, waiting and praying for them to find Tasha. But they hadn't, and just like he couldn't return to that apartment, he couldn't return to the agency that had investigated him. So he'd applied and been accepted into Arizona's Highway Patrol, and spent eighteen months patrolling the area they referred to as 'the ditch' in the unbearable desert heat. Which in a way seemed appropriate, because he certainly was living in hell.
A month ago his supervisor had come to him and asked if he'd like to transfer to this remote mountain town. Not wanting to face another summer of 110 degree plus weather for the better part of the summer, he'd jumped at the chance. Now he sat here face-to-face with an officer who didn't seem surprised by his revelation, and while that shouldn't have bothered him, it did. He hated that people who didn’t know him, knew such intimate details about him.
Christ, he couldn’t deal with this today. Kayne stood, threw some money on the table, and stormed out.
He knew he had to let go, to find some way to forgive Oksana and move on before she completely destroyed his life. Some days he felt so dead inside he was afraid she'd already succeeded. Other days, like today, every emotion was so raw—anger, betrayal, and overwhelming grief pulled him under, making him wonder why he bothered to live.
Kayne had no idea how long he'd been standing there staring at the snow-packed escarpment when Del laid a hand on his shoulder and asked, “Do you want to talk about it, son?” He heard nothing but compassion in the older officer's voice.
Kayne shook his head. No, he didn't fucking want to talk about it, he just wanted to forget. Not that that would ever happen in this lifetime. “I need to get to the office,” he managed to say.
“I'm here if you need someone to listen, and I give you my word it goes no further than me.”
Kayne gave a brisk nod, unable to say anything else.
 




CHAPTER TWO



Jess startled awake when something warm and heavy pounced on her chest. Her blurry eyes popped open to reveal curious azure ones staring back at her through a veil of chocolate curls. Gracie. With creamy skin and fat rosy cheeks that dimpled when she smiled Gracie was a beautiful toddler.
The little imp leaned forward resting her forehead against Jess’s. “You, wake?” She whispered.
“No.” Jess whispered back. She wasn’t awake. “Snuggle?” Jess desperately needed a little more sleep
Gracie looked thoughtful for a moment then nodded. “A’kay.”
She grabbed the covers and tugged them back far enough to burrow in next to Jess.
Jess cuddled her two-year-old daughter close and let her mind drift, praying for sleep. Like last night, her mind filled with thoughts of Officer Dobrescu and the traffic stop instead. She’d taken the children into the city for an afternoon of shopping, dinner and a movie at IMAX. It had been late by the time they’d left Tempe. After two hours of driving, Jess had desperately wanted to be home. It’s why she’d been speeding.
The blacked out patrol car had been sitting in one of the local State Trooper’s favorite spots to run radar. Expecting them to still be on their winter schedule, where officers were on an on-call status between the hours of 10pm and 6am, she hadn’t anticipated anyone being there. The moment she’d looked at her speed she knew he’d be stopping her so she’d pulled over to wait. Having been a dispatcher she knew how dangerous traffic stops were. She’d had her license and registration out, the interior lights on, and her hands in plain sight by the time he approached the vehicle.
Jess had heard that the new officer was good looking, but she hadn’t expected the sight of him to make her heart skip a beat. Or the feel of his warm calloused hand brushing against hers to send goose bumps skittered across her flesh. He’d flashed a smile and flirted a little and she’d felt her cheeks heat. Heck just thinking about how she’d flirted back had them flaming hot. Jess never flirted, especially with sexy, charming men who were so decidedly out of her league.
“Mama.” Gracie’s sleepy mumble pulled her out of her thoughts.
“What, baby?”
“Maddy make breakfast. Say no tell mama,” Gracie said worriedly.
Crap! While her ten-year-old daughter knew how to cook, she wasn’t allowed to do it without an adult present.
Jess threw off the covers resigned to be facing the day with lots of strong coffee and little sleep. She grabbed her warm fuzzy robe and slipped her feet into house shoes before heading toward the kitchen and the disaster she was sure was in the making.
***
The door swung open, and two little girls stared up at Kayne from the foyer of Hallstatt House. He was taken aback by how much the littlest one looked like his deceased daughter. Good God, how many times did he have to torture himself like this, seeing his wife or children's faces in that of a stranger’s?
He shook the thoughts away. This beautiful little girl had nothing to do with his past. It was the coloring that had thrown him off. Natalia, his eldest daughter, had had similar blue eyes, framed by the same type of chocolate curls as the toddler in front of him.
“Officer Dobrescu, can I help you?”
Kayne looked up to see Jessica watching him, her brow furrowed in confusion. He knew he'd been staring at the baby like he'd seen a ghost.
The toddler reached out and wrapped her tiny hand around one of his large fingers. She tugged, leaning all her weight into it. “In!” she demanded.
Kayne looked to Jessica for permission.
“Please, come in,” she said a little reluctantly and stepped out of the way.
“Up, up!” The little girl held up her hands expectantly.
“Gracie...” Jessica’s tone was a warning.
“Peease.” She turned huge blue eyes on him, batting her eyelashes.
Kayne couldn't help the bittersweet smile. She was adorable and knew it. And so fucking much like his own two-year-old had been before she died. It broke his heart just to look at her.
“I don't think your mama wants strangers picking you up.” Kayne dropped down on his heels to be closer to her level. “It's not safe.” He watched as Gracie pondered his statement for a moment.
“What you name?” The little darling reached out a hand and laid it on his chest.
“Kayne.” He instinctively covered her tiny hand with his.
“Gracie.” She pulled his hand to her chest. “Be mine friend?”
Kayne fought to keep from laughing, even as his heart wept. He looked at Jess, who nodded.
“Yes, Gracie.” His voice thick with emotion, he managed to add, “I can be your friend.” He stood up, taking her in his arms, being careful not to catch her delicate skin on any of his duty equipment.
“Maddy and Ash made breakfast.”
He looked down at the little green-eyed blonde tugging on his uniform trousers. She looked to be about four or five. The age his son Nickolai had been.
Jessica laughed softly. “I think they are trying to invite you to breakfast. Have you eaten?”
No, he hadn't. He'd been too angry.
Pushing those emotions aside, Kayne focused on the woman before him. Jessica looked like she'd just crawled out of bed, and damned if that didn't make him want to drag her right back into it. She was tiny, just as he’d expected. Her hair, a riot of dark blonde curls that fell almost to her waist, beckoned his fingers to tangle in it while he kissed those luscious, berry-stained lips. The functional robe she wore was anything but sexy, but it left his imagination to run wild. What, if anything, was she wearing beneath? He felt his body begin to respond and realized that was a bad idea.
“I really shouldn't stay. I just came by to give you back your driver's license.” He pulled it from his pocket and handed it to her, along with the vehicle registration. “Sorry.”
“I'll probably need that in the near future.”
“Planning on speeding again?”
“Without a doubt.” She laughed, and there was that dimple again.
Oh, boy! Time to get the hell out of Dodge.
“Anyway I better get going.” He tried to hand Gracie off to her mother, but the little imp was having none of that.
“No! Pease, pease!” Gracie hung on tight.
Kayne looked down at the little girl clinging to him like a spider monkey, then to Jessica, at a loss. He hadn’t held a child since the last time he’d held his own.
Jessica took the decision out of his hands. “Isabelle, show Officer Dobrescu to the kitchen while I get dressed.”
***
Jess flinched inwardly as soon as the invitation left her lips. Inviting Kayne to breakfast probably wasn't the smartest idea she'd had, but her brain clearly wasn’t functioning this morning. There for a minute she thought she'd seen lust in his eyes, but that was ridiculous. She looked like she'd just crawled out of bed. The Hausfrau look was anything but sexy. Especially to someone like him.
“Yay!” Gracie threw her arms around his neck and nosily kissed his cheek.
Kayne followed Isabelle into the kitchen, and Jess quickly introduced him to her ten-year-old daughter, Madelina, and her seven-year-old son, Ashur, then excused herself to get dressed.
The moment she was out of sight, she raced to her room. Quickly she threw on jeans and a T-shirt, ran a brush through her hair, scrubbed her face, and brushed her teeth. She applied a little mascara but pulled up short when she reached for her lip gloss. What the hell was she doing? She had no interest in trying to impress the sexy officer.
And was he ever sexy.
Even Kevlar couldn't hide that tall, lean-muscled body. Butterflies had taken flight in the pit of her stomach the moment the girls opened the door, and they hadn't settled down since. She could look, she reasoned, there was just no point in wanting to touch. As if someone like him would want to touch her. He exuded sexuality. And she…well, didn't.
Jess tossed the lip gloss back on the counter, thoroughly disgusted with herself, and headed for the kitchen. When she rounded the corner, she froze mid-stride, surprised by the scene playing out before her. Instead of taking a seat, Kayne had taken over the kitchen. He laughed at Ash's tractor joke; said something quietly to him that made Maddy gasp and turn and threaten both of them with her spatula as she puffed up in righteous indignation. Boy and man laughed harder and bumped fists.
Jess stood there watching, trying to remember a time when her husband had ever set foot into her kitchen for anything other than a beer or a snack for himself. He'd certainly never done anything like this.
Still holding Gracie, Kayne cut two waffles into bite-sized pieces and poured two sippy-cups full of milk, before planting Gracie in a highchair and Isabelle next to her. He'd obviously spent time around small children, yet he wasn't wearing a ring. As if that meant anything.
***
God he'd missed this, Kayne realized as he looked at the children surrounding him. All so different in appearance and yet each happy, healthy, and loved. They chatted animatedly amongst themselves, arguing as they made a list of where they wanted to go today and questioning if their mother would agree. The library was surprisingly at the top of everyone's list.
“Do they have children's activities?” Kayne asked.
“A few, but we usually just go to check out books,” Maddy offered.
He'd learned that everyone called her Maddy. Ashur answered to Ash, and in true seven-and-a-half-year-old—one mustn’t forget that extra half—fashion, claimed to be a computer whiz. Isabelle was princess and fashion diva rolled into one, and decided she liked it when he called her 'Sabella, once he explained it was his baby sister's nickname.
Grace didn't care what anyone called her, as long as she was the center of attention. Having only spent a few minutes with the kids, it was still abundantly clear to Kayne that each was advanced for their respective age.
When he voiced that observation Maddy said, “Mama has been reading to us since she got us.”
“Got you?” Kayne’s brow furrowed in confusion.
Maddy shrugged. “We're adopted.”
Which explained the vast differences in their looks. “All of you?” Kayne couldn't help but study Gracie.
Jessica returned. “Yes, all of them, and you're in my kitchen.”
There was a first—he'd never had a woman complain about him working in the kitchen. In fact, his mom had demanded he know how to cook, and cook well.
“Your kids were in the kitchen.”
“You're not one of my children.” She handed him a plate of food.
“Short-stuff, hang out with me for a while, and you probably won't be able to tell the difference.” That got the laugh he was hoping for.
Though he felt like he should be helping, Kayne reluctantly accepted the plate and took the seat next to Gracie's high chair.
Ash leaned across the table and whispered, “We're not allowed in the kitchen, either.”
Gracie leaned over and scooped up a handful of his eggs, then dropped them onto her plate. She smiled up at him and mumbled “thanks” around a mouthful of waffle. God, even her personality reminded him of his daughter. How many times had Natalia done that exact thing?
“Yet you guys made breakfast anyways?” He was desperate to leave thoughts of his own children behind. This was such a colossal mistake. He had no business here.
Maddy gave a mutinous smile. “Mama cooks breakfast on school days, but weekends we're stuck with cold cereal or leftovers, unless we can convince her otherwise.”
Ash let out a giggle. “You just happened to step foot on the H.M.S. Bounty.”
Kayne stage whispered to Jessica, “Well Captain Bligh, gonna make them walk the plank?”
“I guess that depends on how well they clean up the kitchen.”
Four hopeful sets of eyes looked at Kayne for a response. Apparently they expected him to help.
Kayne was looking for a tactful way out of spending any more time with the kids when he heard his call sign among the relentless chatter coming across the police scanner sitting atop a kitchen cabinet. “Eleven-three-eight, copy traffic.”
Saved by the dispatcher.
Jessica gave him a knowing smile as she stood. She stretched up on tippy-toe to turn down the scanner, giving him a peek of creamy white skin just above her waistband when her shirt lifted up. With the scanner turned down, he could respond on his portable radio without feedback. He learned the call was a disabled semi-tractor-trailer blocking the highway.
Kayne rose to leave. “Sorry, kiddos, you’re on your own this time.” As if there’s going to be a next time, Dobrescu?
“Kiss, kiss, kiss!” Gracie struggled desperately to climb out of her highchair to reach him.
Kayne eyed the syrup-covered cherub. “You sit still, and I'll hug you.”
She nodded once, tilted her head toward him, and puckered her little lips. Kayne felt as though his heart was being squeezed by a giant fist. He hugged the little girl from behind, bombarded by the smell of baby-shampoo and innocence. His throat was tight with emotion when he whispered, “Be good for Mama, baby.” They were the last words he'd ever said to his own children.
He brushed his lips across Isabelle's downy head. “You too, sweetheart.”
Maddy jumped up and gave him a hug, and he bumped fists with Ash, before he tossed a quick goodbye to Jessica. Then he got the fuck out of there before he truly embarrassed himself by breaking down and bawling like a baby.
He missed his children more in that moment than he had since the day he’d watched their bodies lowered into the ground next to their murdering bitch of a mother.