Chapter 7
Cade
I carried the plates inside and rinsed them at the sink because doing something with my hands was better than putting them around Luke Dempsey’s throat in front of children.
The Bennett kitchen was warm and loud from the open windows, every counter covered in evidence of family.
Mail stacked near the toaster. Kids’ drawings on the fridge.
A grocery list written in three different handwritings.
A framed photo of Bliss’s mother sat on a small shelf near the back door, tucked beside a little ceramic angel and a dried flower in a glass jar.
Cindy Bennett had Bliss’s smile. Or maybe Bliss had hers.
I stood there longer than I needed to, staring at the photo, thinking about the marble in Bliss’s pocket.
If it keeps her in the room, bring it.
I understood now why she needed the marble in her pocket.
This house was full of her mother and the man who had made Bliss afraid was welcome here. That was a cruelty I didn’t know how to name yet.
The back door opened behind me and Luke stepped inside and shut the door halfway, muting the yard noise just enough to make the kitchen feel smaller.
“You settling in with them pretty quick,” he said.
I turned off the water. “They’re easy people to like.”
“They are.” He leaned against the counter like this was casual. “Good family.”
“Yes.”
“Protective though.”
I dried my hands slowly on a dish towel. “They seem that way.”
His smile slid into place. “Especially with Bliss.”
I folded the towel and set it down. Luke watched the movement, eyes amused.
“She has that effect,” he said. “Makes people think she needs saving.”
My spine turned to ice. I kept my face empty. “Does she?”
His grin deepened. “You tell me. You’ve been around a lot lately.”
“And?”
“And I know how this goes.” He pushed off the counter, stepping closer by half a pace. “Pretty girl. Sad story. Big eyes. Makes a guy feel important.”
I stared at him. He was trying to warn me off. No, worse. He was trying to see if I knew enough to be warned.
“I’m here for a project,” I said.
“Sure.” He laughed softly. “That’s what she told you?”
Something ugly moved behind my ribs. Not loud. Not reckless. Focused.
I had been raised around men who did damage politely. Men who smiled in boardrooms while gutting people with contracts. Men who treated cruelty like strategy and charm like currency. Luke Dempsey was not as polished as them, but I recognized the shape of him.
He wanted control. He wanted the room. He wanted Bliss afraid and everyone else comfortable. “Is there something you want to say?” I asked.
His eyes sharpened and for one second, the grin dropped. Then the back door opened wider and Bliss appeared on the threshold. Her gaze moved from Luke to me and every bit of color faded from her face.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
Luke turned instantly, smile back in place. “Nothing, Bug. Just talking hockey.”
I watched her look at him and then at the space between us. Then at my hands like she was checking for blood that wasn’t there yet.
That told me more than anything Luke had said.
“Dad needs you outside,” she said to him.
Luke’s eyes lingered on her. “Does he?”
“Yeah.”
The word shook so faintly I almost missed it.
Luke didn’t. His smile got softer and crueler. “Sure,” he said, moving toward her. He passed close enough that his shoulder nearly brushed hers, and Bliss held perfectly still until he was outside.
The second the door swung shut behind him, she exhaled. Not with relief, but survival.
I took one step toward her. She shook her head before I could speak.
“Don’t.”
“Pip.”
Her eyes flashed, panic and warning twisting together. “Please don’t.”
The please did more damage than anything else could have.
I stopped.
Outside, someone yelled about dessert. Daniel laughed. The kids shrieked. The grill hissed like it had committed another crime.
Inside, Bliss stood with her back to the door and her right hand in her pocket. I looked at that hand then at her face.
“Is he the one?” I asked quietly.
She went completely still, the answer before the lie. “Cade,” she whispered.
“Is Luke the ex?”
Her throat worked. She looked away, and the movement made something vicious and helpless collide in my chest.
“Don’t ask me that here.”
Not no. Not you’re wrong. Not what are you talking about? Don’t ask me that here.
I nodded once, even though every instinct in my body rejected the idea of letting it go. “Fine,” I said. “Not here.”
Her eyes came back to mine, glossy with something she refused to let fall. “I mean it.”
“So do I.”
That scared her. I saw it immediately. Not because she was afraid of me. Because she understood, maybe before I did, that if I decided Luke Dempsey was a threat, there would come a point where restraint stopped being a virtue and started being a leash.
I softened my voice because of that. Because of her. “I’m not going to make a scene in your father’s kitchen.”
Her mouth trembled once before she pressed it into something steadier. “Thank you.”
I hated that she was thanking me for doing the bare minimum. I hated that some part of her had expected anything else.
The back door opened again, and Katie appeared with chocolate on her face and both hands sticky.
“Aunt Bliss, Grandpa said dessert.”
Bliss turned so quickly her smile looked painful. “Tell Grandpa if he burned brownies, I’m calling the police.”
Katie giggled. “Uncle Knox is already here.”
“Then I’m filing a formal complaint.”
The kid ran off, and Bliss followed before I could say another word. I stood in the kitchen for one second longer, staring at the door she had disappeared through.
I didn’t know what Luke Dempsey had done to her yet. Not all of it. But by the time Bliss stepped back into the yard with a smile that didn’t reach her eyes and a tiny moth Never tucked somewhere in her pocket, I knew one thing with absolute certainty.
The monster that taught her to flinch had been sitting at her father’s table all night.