Chapter 23 Cade #2
“There should already be guards with you, as this was my condition for letting you out and about with him. What happened? Where the fuck are you?”
“At his place.”
“Well, I insist you both come back. He’s not safe outside our compound. I made a compromise by letting you take him out daily, but fuck, he won’t be living on his own.”
I rub at the hole in my chest. How can I explain this to Wylder when I don’t understand it myself? “I know, but he won’t come near me.”
Wylder goes quiet for a moment. “What the fuck did you do?”
I clear my throat and look at the window I just tried to open. I see the curtains move. He must see me standing on the sidewalk, but he doesn’t message, doesn’t call, just lets the curtains fall back to where they were.
It’s getting hard to see now, everything blurring together. “I didn’t do anything. We were just out, and then he suddenly got upset, said he needed time away from me.”
“Well, get him back.”
My voice breaks. “He doesn’t want me, Wylder. He doesn’t want me.”
“Fucking hell. Cade, don’t fucking move. I’ll be there soon. Just hang on for me, buddy, okay?”
Wylder appears ten minutes later, a tinted SUV pulling up to the curb.
“Get in,” he says, stepping out and gesturing for me to enter. I don’t want to, but I end up sliding inside, the leather seats warm against my exposed skin.
“Christ, Cade, you’re a mess.” Wylder peers at my bleeding knee. “Clean yourself up while I’m gone.”
The door shuts, and the driver hands me a small pouch—a first aid kit they keep in the cars for situations like this.
The drivers are well versed in us showing up bloody and bruised.
Only this time, it’s not a bad man or woman who hurt me.
It’s my butterfly. Or at least, he was the reason I was on that rickety platform to begin with.
“Is my chest bleeding?” I ask the driver, who merely squints at me. “Because it feels like it is.”
His eyes widen. “Is this an emergency, sir?”
“No, just a broken heart.”
I turn my gaze outside and see Wylder making his way up the sidewalk. He raps his hand on the dilapidated door of the apartment, but no one answers. It makes me ridiculously happy that Ansel is being safe, that he’s not flinging the door open for just anyone.
Wylder raps again, and even though I can’t hear it, I know it’s harder this time. He even leans forward, probably shouting Ansel’s name.
I rip a wipe open and mop up the blood pooling around my knee before slapping a Band-Aid over it.
Then I watch as the apartment door peeks open. I lean across the seat, my nose to the window, my breath fogging up the glass, my heart racing in my chest.
I was right. He’s safe.
The two of them talk, Wylder through the crack in the door, Ansel safely tucked away inside.
They converse for some time, Wylder gesturing back toward the car.
I hope he’s convincing him to come home.
Where he belongs. Where he’s safe. Because even putting guards on him, it’s not me protecting him.
I’ll have to leave him in someone else’s hands.
It makes my stomach roil.
The door shuts, and Wylder runs a hand through his hair. His shoulders straighten, and he spins around, his phone out, his mouth moving a mile a minute. By the time he’s at the SUV and sliding in, he’s explaining.
“He won’t come with us. He refused. The guards will monitor him.”
I swallow, and my jaw clicks, my eyes flicking up to the man standing outside Ansel’s door. I stare long and hard, wincing when the door opens and Ansel pushes a chair out for the man to sit in.
“Did you tell him it wasn’t safe? To keep his fucking door shut?”
Wylder grunts. “Yes, but he does what he wants. When I told him to come back with us, he said no, and frankly, he made some good points.”
I wait for him to tell me these points, but I’m pretty sure that Ansel already laid them out for me.
Wylder gives me a sympathetic smile. “It’s not the best situation, but we’ll have guards on him at all times. He won’t be able to get away easily, and he assured me that he wasn’t leaving his apartment.”
“Anyone could get in though, Wylder. That door is made of wet paper.”
“Regardless, he won’t go. And short of kidnapping him, I don’t have it in me to throw him over my shoulder and carry him out. Especially given that his friend Neo will end up poking around.”
I sigh and lean my head back. “You agreed with him…on the reason he needs to be apart from me.”
Wylder says nothing, which means that I’m right. He does agree. He thinks I went too far and too fast, too soon. But he has no idea what Ansel and I share, what we could be. It’s as clear as fucking day.
But he doesn’t want me, and so I have to let him go.
For now, at least. I can give him the forty-eight hours he asked for.
Then I’m going to make another play.
“You have to leave him be, Cade. You really upset him.”
I close my eyes, feeling a headache building behind my eyes. “I’ll try.”
“No trying,” Wylder bites out. “You must. Give him space, and I believe he’ll come back to you. He likes you, that much is true.”
“Yeah, but he doesn’t love me.”
Wylder’s silent, and that makes everything inside of me curl up and wince. Ansel must have told him as much. It’s why Wylder isn’t saying anything. He doesn’t want to hurt my feelings anymore.
When he finally does speak, it’s not about Ansel. “Let’s go home.”
My stomach twists. “I don’t know if I can leave him.”
“You have to,” Wylder says softly. “If you don’t, then you might end up pushing him away for good. The guards will send you hourly updates. We’ll keep him safe, Cade.”
It takes me a few moments to spit out the word, but eventually it comes. “Fine.”
“And you’ll behave.”
“Yeah,” I lie. I’ll try my best. But fuck, it will be hard. But I’ve been through worse, I think. Much worse.
But the farther away we get, the more space there is between Ansel and me, and I realize maybe I haven’t yet experienced this kind of pain. Because the way my heart hurts, the throbbing in my skull, the tightness in my lungs…
I think I’m drowning.