Chapter 22 #2
“What if she is taken from you, like your mother was from your father?” I glared at Cole. The words hit me like a physical blow.
“Go fuck yourself,” I growled and smashed my fist into the punching bag as close as I could to his face. I stepped back, shaking my head.
"She’s not my mother. I don't have feelings for her. This is business. This is survival."
"Keep telling yourself that." Cole moved away from the bag, crossing his arms over his chest. "But I just saw your face when you watched them together.
That wasn't business, Logan. That was something else entirely.
" I turned away, unable to meet his gaze.
My knuckles were bleeding, I realised distantly, the skin split and raw.
Good. Pain was better than whatever this other feeling was.
"My father would see it as weakness," I said finally, my voice barely audible over the pounding of my heart. “He'd use it against me. Against her. Look at how he tries to manipulate you.”
"Maybe," Cole agreed. "Or maybe he'd see it as leverage. A way to control you both." I laughed, a harsh, bitter sound.
"Is that supposed to be comforting?" Cole shrugged.
"Just being realistic. Nicholas Bale didn't build his empire by ignoring potential assets." He pointed to himself, “Case in point. If anything, I know I am here today because even in his need to control everything, your father is keeping me safe, and not locked up in some fucking dungeon as people use my body, or worse, rotting in some unmarked grave.” Cole leant against the wall. “I have friends and a life, and fuck even family, because your father thinks I am useful.” I couldn’t argue with him. Cole and Ryder were as close to family as I would ever get and my father was the one who did that. He brought Cole home after he protected me, and he hired Aaron Purcell, introducing me to Ryder. Still, I didn’t like it. Give the man too much control and he would use it without emotion. And even I knew I didn’t want Cadence to be used like that.
“All I am saying is, maybe your dad thinking he can control you through her is actually a good thing. Maybe her being an asset to him will help us protect her,” Cole said with a shrug. I turned back to the bag, landing another punch that sent a jolt of pain up my arm.
"She's not an asset. She's-" I cut myself off, unwilling to finish the thought.
Cole was quiet for a long moment, watching me destroy my hands on the bag. When he spoke again, his voice was gentler than I'd ever heard it.
"It's okay to want her for yourself, you know. It's okay to be pissed that Ryder got there first." I stopped punching, my breath coming in ragged gasps. The truth of his words hit me harder than any physical blow ever could.
"I hate it," I admitted, the words scraping my throat raw. "I hate how much I wish it was me who got to fuck her first. I hate that I had to listen to her beg for him, come for him." I pressed my forehead against the cool leather of the bag. "I hate that I care at all."
"We all care," Cole said quietly. "Even if we pretend not to."
I turned to face him, suddenly exhausted. "Ryder was right, wasn't he? When he said I was falling for her." Cole's expression was uncharacteristically soft.
"We all are, in our own fucked-up ways. That's what makes this so dangerous." I looked down at my hands, at the blood smeared across my knuckles.
“People would come after her, they would use her to get to me. If they knew how much I…” I trailed off, unable to say the words.
My mother had been raped and murdered because of my father’s love for her.
What had happened to my mother had broken my father in so many ways, and he had never recovered.
He had been clear after that day that love was a weakness.
It would be exploited and used against you.
Other than a few passing flings, my father had never taken another partner.
"Then we don't let them know," Cole said simply. "We protect her. From your father, from the Trivium, from Dominic Blake. From everyone."
"Including ourselves?" I asked, a bitter smile twisting my lips. Cole didn't answer. He didn't need to. We both knew the truth; we were as much a danger to Cadence as anyone else. Perhaps even more so, because we were the ones who had earned her trust, or were slowly earning it, albeit reluctantly.
I flexed my bleeding hands, feeling the sting of open wounds. "I won't let Ryder be the only one she surrenders to," I said, my voice hardening with resolve. "I won't let him be the only one who gets to claim her."
"Even if it means breaking the rules?" Cole asked, a hint of challenge in his voice. I met his gaze, unflinching.
"Even if it means breaking everything. We can’t be divided in this, not if we are going to really protect her." Cole nodded, a slow smile spreading across his face.
"Then I guess we'd better come up with a plan.
" I looked down at my bruised and bloodied hands, at the physical manifestation of my jealousy and desire.
Cadence might have given herself to Ryder tonight, but this wasn't over.
Not by a long shot. She'd surrender to me, too.
I'd make sure of it even if it meant admitting that what I felt for her went far beyond the bounds of our contract.
Even if it meant risking everything I'd built, everything I was.
Because the thought of Cadence in Ryder's arms, giving him what she'd denied me, wasn’t anything compared to the pain of her being ripped away from us. That thought was more painful than any physical wound could ever be. And I was done pretending otherwise.
Later, as Cole and I made our way back upstairs, a plan already forming between us, I paused outside Cadence's door.
It was quiet now, the storm of passion having subsided into what I assumed was exhausted sleep.
I pressed my palm against the wood, as if I could somehow feel her through it.
It was clear now, tomorrow we would catch Ryder up on what needed to happen.
I would allow him his smug victory, but then he would have to fall in line.
And I knew he would. Because just like me, just like Cole, Ryder would do anything to protect that woman.
"Sweet dreams, Princess," I whispered to the closed door, my voice barely audible even to my own ears. “Sleep well, because things are about to get bumpy.”