6 | Cade – Then
“Cade, stop,” Clara screams.
I can’t focus on her voice as I drive my fist into his face, over and over again, even though he has stopped fighting back. I don’t care, there ain’t a single fucking thing I care about in this moment other than making him suffer. I want to see the life sucked from his body; I want to see him drowning in his own fucking blood. Everything about this moment feels well deserved, and I can’t bring myself to stop.
Over and over, I pummel his face.
“Cade!” Clara screams, shoving me until I stop hitting our father, my fists bloodied as I stare down at him.
He groans, but it’s barely there, his eyes are fused shut and there is so much blood on his face I don’t even recognize him.
“You put your hands on her,” I roar, taking his shoulders and shaking, as if that will do anything. “You can hit me, you motherfucker, but you will never put your hands on her.”
Clara sobs, her hand shaking my shoulder. “Please stop. Cade, you’re going to kill him.”
“Not a fuckin’ minute too soon.”
“Please,” she whispers. “Please, stop.”
Hand shaking, I lean back, staring down at the mess I made. He’s passed out now, and his breathing is ragged. I hit him so many fucking times I don’t even know what parts of his body I made contact with. He hit me back too, at first, until my strength finally got the better of him and I managed for the first time in my life to take control back.
Then, I couldn’t stop.
I came in and he was choking Clara, holding her against the wall, choking her until she was blue. She had come home with a boy, and he found out about it, and it’s safe to say that didn’t go down well. He rarely lays hands on her, but tonight, he was going to kill her. I could see it in his eyes, he wanted blood and he saw our mother when he looked at her. A cheap whore who couldn’t be controlled.
He wasn’t having any of it.
“Cade, I don’t think he’s breathing,” Clara gasps, dropping to her knees and lifting his head.
“Leave him,” I growl.
“We have to call for help. He’ll die. Cade, call for help.”
“If we call for help, I’ll go to prison.”
She shoots me a look. “He’s going to die. How can you sit there and just watch? Call for help.”
Turning, I take my cell from the counter and call, but it’s not for help. I call my long-time friend, Danny. I don’t tell him what is going on, I just tell him to get here as soon as he can. I don’t know how I’m going to explain this situation, because I’ve never involved him in my family life, mostly out of shame and mostly because I don’t want anyone to know the kind of cunt that brought me into this world.
Ten minutes later, Danny is at the front door.
Clara is wiping our father’s face, tears rolling down her cheeks. If that ain’t the very definition of a trauma bond, I don’t know what is. He can hurt her, insult her, bring her to her knees but it’s the little moments of nice that she has held onto and now, she doesn’t want to see him gone, even though deep down, she knows she’d be free without him.
“What the fuck?”
Danny stares at me, then back to Clara. He’s seen her around, he knows who she is, but he hasn’t had much to do with her. I keep it that way for a reason.
“He was tryin’ to kill her,” I tell Danny, stepping aside so he can walk in. “I lost it. If I call the cops, they’ll lock me up.”
“Because you tried to kill him,” Clara cries.
“Protectin’ you,” I bark.
“Let me handle this,” Danny says, walking toward Clara.
Leaning down, he speaks to her. What he tells her, I don’t know, but her eyes keep moving back and forth to mine before she sniffles and nods.
“We’re callin’ it in, but she agreed to say it was self-defense. You’ll probably get a charge, but it won’t be much.”
I stare at the limp body on the ground.
“It was fuckin’ worth it.”
“Not if he dies it wouldn’t be,” Danny mutters. “I’ll call.”
Frozen in place, I stand until the police officers arrive and put me in cuffs. I listen as Clara brokenly tells them that he was beating us, and I was protecting her. Self-defense. Still, due to his condition, they have no choice but to take me away, at least for questioning. As I’m being dragged out the door, I pray to anyone who is listening.
Please, just let him fucking die.
~*~*~*~*~
“YOU’RE AVOIDING ME,” I grunt in Adder’s direction as I throw my leg off my bike and stare over at him just getting on his.
He glances at me, then looks down at the ground, his jaw tight. “Fuck, I wish I wasn’t in this position, but I gotta tell you what I saw when I followed your woman.”
Chest tightening, I step up to his bike, leaning down close. “Better start talkin’ and make it fast.”
“She was havin’ lunch with someone, some guy ...”
Feels like a knife to the chest, even though I’m certain Addi wouldn’t cheat on me. Doesn’t mean the very picture of her with another man doesn’t swim through my mind. Letting the anger simmer down, I growl. “You gotta have more than that. What did he look like?”
Was it that fucker, Billy?
Surely, she wouldn’t go back to that limp dick piece of shit.
“Couldn’t see much. Dark hair, beard, seemed like her age or maybe a bit older. They were laughin’. He reached out, took her hand, looked pretty cozy.”
Who the fuck is she seeing and why?
Grinding my teeth, I give him a sharp nod.
I’ll follow her myself and find out who the fuck she’s running off to see. I know for a fact it will be something to do with the situation we’ve gotten ourselves into. Maybe Spike is right, maybe I should just tell her about my past and then she might just let it go. It’s worth the risk, because whatever she’s doing, it’s going to get her into trouble.
Walking into the club, I ignore anyone who speaks to me.
I’m angry, wild even.
I’m slowly losing control.
“You good, brother?”
Muff’s voice comes from behind me when I reach the bar and take an entire bottle, causing the girl behind it to stare at me with wide eyes. She doesn’t stop me, though. She knows better. If you’re a bar bitch in a biker club, you sure as shit don’t ask questions. Turning to face Muff, I take a sip and his eyes narrow.
“Well, that looks a whole lot like you’re not good. You want to tell me what’s goin’ on?”
“Nothin’,” I mutter.
His brows go up. “Oh, so you just enjoy drinkin’ at nine am for no good reason?”
“Fuck off, Muff. It ain’t none of your concern.”
Unbothered by my growling, he leans against the bar and crosses his arms. “We’ll try that one again. You want to tell me what’s goin’ on?”
“My woman won’t let shit go, that’s what’s goin’ on. She is refusing to fuckin’ back down.”
“Might not be my place, brother, but I’ll tell you somethin’ I learned just recently—best to tell them the truth and be open than it is to keep secrets. You gotta talk to her.”
I know he’s right, but I’m in no mood to hear it.
Fuck, life was easier before Addison.
Who am I kidding, I couldn’t imagine a fucking world without her.
God damned pain in my ass.
Slamming the bottle down onto the bar, I nod at Muff as I walk out.
I need to clear my head before I talk to her, otherwise the words that come out of my mouth won’t be nice.
Can’t make a bad situation worse.
Calm.
Fuck calm.
Fuck her.
Fuck this.