Page 46 of Pieces Into Place

“I know what it’s like, having someone you care about die like that,” he murmurs.

“You mean your friend in the military?” I ask.

He shakes his head.

“I’ve lost a lot of friends over the years because of our service, but that’s not what I mean. This happened before I was born, but someone I cared about, someone who even though they are gone, has a huge part in my life, and the fact that they aren’t here has left an even bigger hole,” Kane acknowledges solemnly.

“But, they were murdered?” I ask reluctantly, not sure I want an answer.

Kane nods, but doesn’t say anything further so I wrap my arms around him in a fierce hug and feel complete when he hugs me back with the same intensity.

“When I have a birthday, would you bake me a cake from scratch?” he asks somewhat sheepishly.

His question catches me off guard and I have to laugh. I love what his question implies, that I will still be in his life for his next birthday, whenever that is.

“What kind of cake do you want?” I pull back to look at his face.

“I love carrot cake, but no raisins. I never understood why people spoil a good thing with raisins. Life is too short for food obstacles,” he replies with an earnest grin that makes me smile.

“I think I can remember that. Done,” I nod reassuringly.

He cups my chin in his hand and pulls my lips to his, letting the warmth of his breath linger for a moment. “Who would have thought we’d be here when we first met?” he asks with a smile.

“Me,” I say confidently, although my cheeks flush at the admission.

Kane lets out a laugh. “You did not. You hated me.”

“That is true,” I concede. “But I also thought you were objectively hot. Plus, I was positive you were obsessed with me.”

Kane chuckles, shaking his head so that his dark hair falls over one eye. “Obsessed with you? Is that the vibe I was giving off?”

I shrug, feeling heat creep up my neck. “No, it was more like complete abhorrence, actually, but I figured the only reason you were always around had to be some kind of secret obsession.”

“I don’t think I’m cut out for undercover work.” He laughs.

I shake my head and chuckle at his admission. “I don’t think you are.” We both sit in silence, small smiles playing on our lips as we look at one another. Then, I ask the question that’s been plaguing me.

“What if they never stop coming after me?” I search his eyes, looking for reassurance.

Kane’s expression grows serious. “They will,” he says with a nod of his head, his voice taking on an edge of authority. “When we get you out of this situation,” he adds softly, “you go back to your students and live your life without fear.”

I want to believe him. I trust him and I know he means the words he speaks to his very core. “Okay.”

“Henry and I are working on it,” Kane says determinedly. “It starts with finding out who hired us.”

I nod, feeling relief wash over me at Kane’s words of assurance. I feel safe in the knowledge that no matter what happens, we are in this together and he will move Heaven and Earth to make sure I stay safe.

I point at Ethan, who gazes wide-eyed at me from the front of the class. His bright blue eyes twinkle with excitement, and an infectious smile spreads across his freckled face. “Old MacDonald had a farm,” I start, and Ethan jumps in with glee: “E-I-E-I-O! And on his farm he had a- “

“PIG!” he squeals as everyone else joins in singing along. We all laugh when the song finishes, and I look up to see the afternoon sun streaming through the windows, casting everything in a warm yellow light. Taking a breath, I smile and say, “OK everyone, let’s grab our stuff and get ready for the bell.”

The kids all spring into action, gathering their books from their desks and placing them into their backpacks. I watch proudly as they hustle around making sure they are all ready to leave for the day.

The bell rings sharply two minutes later. I usher the children out of the classroom and into neat lines throughout the hallway outside, each one eager to begin their weekend plans. One by one, they say goodbye, some with hugs, some with a fist bump or high fives, and others with a simple wave.

I see all the cars in the parking lot drive away until finally the school is empty and eerily still. As I start turning around to go back inside, I notice that the sky has become ominously dark from clouds rolling in, blocking out what little sunlight remains. A violent gust of wind sweeps through the area as if it were trying to erase any trace of sound. The air feels like shards of glass against my skin and I can feel my pulse racing through my veins.

When I turn around again to go back into the school, there is nothing left but an open vacant space where it once stood. Panic sets in as I begin to spin around in circles, searching desperately for an explanation or an escape route.