Page 46 of Kane

I’m pretty sure when you snap, you don’t know that you’ve snapped.

At least that’s what Margie says when I tell her I think I’m going crazy.

I try to focus on Carter’s story, but I can’t stop thinking about that little girl. Or Mama’s friend; her words that I don’t think I was supposed to hear.

You can thank me after that bastard’s locked up for good.

She had to have meant my dad. There’s no way she could be talking about anyone else, not even Jasper, even though I know now that she was plotting to leave my dad for Jasper in the first place. Jasper never talked much about what happened between him and my mother. I only know what I do because it’s public record. Every time I tried to talk to him about her, he’d just tell me the conversation was over. If I wanted to talk about my mom, I could do it in therapy. Still. there’s something about the words, about that memory that feels important. I’m just not sure what that is.

When group ends, I don’t hesitate to get up and put my coat on. Carter approaches me.

“You sure everything’s okay?” he asks. “You were gone awhile.”

I don’t miss the look of concern on his face.

“Fine. Just… been getting these nasty headaches lately.”

It’s all I can give him right now.

“Maybe you should see a doctor about that.”

I shake my head. “I said I’m fine.” I take a heavy step forward, shoving my hands in my pockets and making a beeline for the door.

Carter catches up to me, but he doesn’t say anything. The tension between us can be felt like a living, breathing thing.

“I’m sorry,” I mutter. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.”

Carter presses the button for the elevator.

“It’s okay,” he says, and the doors open.

I freeze, reality hitting me and I swear I can still see Ryder crammed in the corner, looking up at me with kiss-swollen lips and heavy-lidded eyes, his cock throbbing beneath me.

I don’t want to wait.

I tense and take a step back.

“You know what, I think I’m going to take the stairs today.”

Carter shrugs as he steps into the car.

“See you next week, then,” he says, and I force a smile, so he doesn’t worry too much. When the doors close, I let out a sigh of relief and head for the stairs.

By the time I get to my house, it’s nearing eleven thirty and I feel like shit. Mentally and physically.

I fumble with my keys, when I hear a rustling sound and tense. I’m sure it’s nothing, but I can’t help the panic I get over the dumbest things.

Thanks, trauma.

I shake off the sound as I slip my key in the lock and then I hear a soft cry.

One I’d know anywhere.

“Pumpkin, is that you?” I call out.

I watch as familiar blue eyes and orange fur round the corner, looking a little worse for wear.

I sigh as he comes up to me, circling my leg and purring up a storm.