21. Cade
I don’t know what the fuck is going on with Dax.
If I didn’t know him better, I’d have said that was a classic case of stage fright. Except I’ve never seen my brother suffer from stage fright. He’s always come to life when he’s in front of an audience, like he’s somehow bigger, taking up more space.
The man I saw on stage was the exact opposite. He’d withdrawn inside himself, practically vanished before my eyes.
He hasn’t wanted to speak to any of us. We’re back at the house, and he’s gone to his room, slamming the door behind him. It reminds me more of me as a teenager than him.
“What the fuck’s going on with him?” I say to Reed.
“Nothing. He’s just sick.”
“Bullshit. He was fine before he went on.”
Had he been, though? I’d noticed he’d gone pale. Was that because he’d been ill but hadn’t said anything?
But I know my brother. “I’ve never seen him act like that before.”
Reed scowls. “You’re overthinking this, Cade. He’s just sick, that’s all. Don’t make more of this than it needs to be.”
I gesture toward the door. “You’re fucking joking, right? He just left a whole concert hall of people requesting a refund. You don’t think it’s going to leave a black mark on his name? Who’s going to want to book him when they’re risking him walking off stage after barely playing a note?”
“Musicians get sick. People will understand. He’s probably run down, which is hardly surprising after what he’s survived, and he’s picked something up. This was all too soon. I should have known that. It’s my fault for giving in to the pressure.”
“Darius wanted to get back out there, too.” I don’t know why I’m trying to make our father feel better. Hadn’t I thought the exact same thing when he’d mentioned it the first time?
“Bullshit. I’m his manager. I’m the one who’s supposed to make the right decisions for him.”
I roll my eyes. I’m the one who watches out for Dax.
I’m his big brother. Why the fuck isn’t Reed listening to me about this not just being a case of a stomach bug?
I was the one who was there for Dax all the years Reed was too busy drinking and womanizing to give a shit about his two young sons.
It’s pissing me off that he is trying to convince himself that nothing is wrong with Darius when something is clearly very fucking wrong. He’s lying to himself.
Deep down, I’m still fucking furious with both him and Dax for letting those men assault Laney, too.
I’d been unconscious, but they hadn’t. Why hadn’t they done more?
They should have stopped it, no matter what the consequences.
Someone as sweet and brave and beautiful as Laney should never be put through that. Not that anyone deserves it.
“I’m going out,” I announce.
“Where?”
“Just out.”
“You don’t need to walk out whenever we disagree, Cade.”
“I can do whatever the fuck I want. I actually have places I can go now. I don’t have to be stuck in one room with my family anymore.”
There’s only one place I want to go, and that’s to Laney.
She said she wanted some space, but haven’t we given that to her already?
I hate the tension between us. She’s still angry at me, and deep down, I’m still angry with her.
I’d still rather have died than her go through what she had.
Nothing she ever says will make me change my mind about that.
I feel sick that those bastards touched her like that.
No, I’ll go to a bar. Have a drink. Maybe I can drown the need to see her.
All the stress has caused my temples to throb again. When I’d been waiting in the wings for Darius to go on, I’d struggled to hear the orchestra over the ringing in my ears.
It doesn’t take me long to walk to the nearest bar.
I take up position on a stool and signal the pretty female bartender for a beer and a whisky chaser.
She flashes me a flirty smile and passes me my drinks.
Only a matter of two months ago, I’d have returned the smile and know I was in for a sure thing.
Maybe I’d have even asked her if she had a friend who wanted to join us.
Now, however, the pretty face and flirty looks do nothing for me.
The only woman I want is the one I can’t have.
I knock back the whisky and signal for another. If I can’t have Laney, maybe I can drink away my feelings.
A second urge takes me. I could hit the casino. When I’m gambling, I don’t think of anything except the win.
A male voice comes from beside me.
“Hey, you’re Cade Riviera, aren’t you? One of those people who was in that plane crash and survived in the wilderness for a month.”
I don’t want the attention. “No, you’re mistaking me for someone else.”
The man barks laughter and claps me on the back. I clench my hand around my beer bottle, holding back the urge to pick it up and smash it around the back of his head.
“You’re funny, dude. No one out there looks like you.”
It’s not often I’ve wished I looked different, but I do now. All I want is to be left alone to drink myself into oblivion.
The man slides onto the stool beside me and signals to the bartender. “Let me buy you another drink,” he says. “What are you having? Whisky?”
I’m torn. I shouldn’t drink like this. Bad shit happens when I drink too much. I lose control. I get into fights. I lose the sort of money that would pay off a person’s student loans. I’m desperate to go to Laney, but she’s asked for space. She wouldn’t want to see me.
“Yeah, okay,” I relent, accepting the offer. “Make it a double.”
He twists to face me, his elbow resting on the bar. “So, what happened to you guys out there? It’s incredible you all survived.”
I shouldn’t talk. I have no idea who this asshole is. He could easily be a reporter and might be recording my every word. The worst part is that I don’t even care. Right now, I want to burn the whole world down and take everyone with it.
No, that’s not true. I’d hold Laney above the flames, except she would probably tell me to put her down so she could burn.
I tell him about the way the plane went down, the aftermath of it, the realization we were stranded in the middle of nowhere. He hangs on my every word, his jaw open.
I’m partway through how we found the cabin when a voice comes from behind me.
“Well, well, well. It’s Cade Riviera.”
I lower my head, taking a moment to gather myself before I spin around on the stool. I’ve already recognized the voice. Maybe a part of me was expecting to hear it—that’s why I came to this bar tonight.
The dude I’d been talking to quickly senses trouble. He slides off his stool without another word, grabbing his drink as he goes, and scurries off to find some other source of entertainment.
“I heard you were stupid enough to come back to Los Angeles,” the other man continues.
His name is Mateo Cruz. Rumor has it he’s connected to the Mexican cartel, but I never got involved with that side of things.
He’s a man who will happily lend money to idiots like me at crazy interest rates, and if you don’t—or can’t—pay it back, you’ll end up with a bullet in your kneecap, or worse.
He’s not alone either. He’s backed up by two of his men, both as mean-looking as Mateo himself.
These are the same people I’d been hoping to escape the day the plane went down. It had been stupid of me at the time. I see that now, but I’d panicked. I didn’t have the kind of money they were after, and I’d known what they’d do to me if they caught up to me.
It seems that moment has arrived, but it’s different now. I have what I owe.
I hold my chin high. “I came back because I have no reason to run.”
“The fuck you don’t,” he sneers.
His two men grab me by the arms and haul me off the stool. Mateo shoves me from behind.
What is it with assholes like this? Do they always come in threes?
We’re garnering attention from the other people in the bar, but no one steps in or says anything.
I understand why. Four big men who clearly look like trouble, who the fuck would want to intervene with that?
So many people are armed these days, it only takes a matter of seconds for an incident to turn from a bar fight to a mass shooting, and no one wants to get caught in that.
They haul me outside and down the side of the bar, to the small parking lot situated behind. I wrench my arms out of their grip, but I don’t run. There’s no point. They’ll only catch up with me again.
“I’ve got your fucking money,” I tell Mateo. “I can transfer it right now, if you want.”
I have the banking app on my phone. All it will take is five minutes.
“Maybe this isn’t just about the money,” he says. “You thought you could get away with not paying what you owe. I don’t like assholes who think they can get one over on us.”
I shake my head. “That isn’t what happened.”
“Bullshit.”
“It’s not bullshit,” I say, though he’s kind of right. “I was in a goddamned plane crash.”
I had hoped that going to Canada with Dax was at least going to buy me some time, but I hadn’t told Mateo that I was leaving the country. In a way, it had worked, though I hadn’t been able to predict what was going to happen.
“We thought you’d pulled some kind of stunt with that plane crash. Good way of never having to pay us back, if we thought you were dead.”
“It was no stunt. The plane went down. If I was going to try to stage my own death, I wouldn’t take my whole fucking family with me.”
Mateo nods slowly. He purses his lips and strokes his chin. “I’ve seen pictures of your family. You’ve been all over the newspapers. Never knew you had a sister. She’s a hot little thing.”
Adrenaline surges up inside me at the mention of Laney. “You leave her the fuck out of this. I already told you that I’ve got the money now. I’ll pay you, and we all go our separate ways. No need for us to ever speak again.”
“But it’s not just about the money, Cade. It’s about you thinking you can get one over on us. I don’t like people thinking that.”
I brace myself. “I didn’t. I had to go for work. It had nothing to do with you.”
His eyes narrow to slits. “Do you think I’m stupid?”
“No, but I’m telling the truth.” I grind my molars. “Look, do you want your fucking money or not? ’Cause I’ve got other places to be than standing in the middle of a fucking parking lot.”
Mateo jerks his chin. “Go on, then. Transfer the money, and we’ll take things from there. You should probably know that the hundred grand has doubled now. It’s been more than a month since you were supposed to pay it back.”
I could try to argue this, but there’s no point. I won’t win. It’s not as though I don’t have the money. I just want these assholes off my back.
I could never have planned for things to happen the way they had, but it worked out, at least as far as the money went. Then I remember what Laney went through, and realize I’d happily give every cent back, and take what’s coming to me, if I could erase those moments from her life.
I use my phone and log into the banking app. It makes me jump through a handful of security measures, but within a matter of minutes, the money has been paid.
Mateo checks his phone for the notification of the money going in.
“All done,” he says. “I’ll admit, I didn’t think it was going to happen.”
“Well, it has, so I’ll be going now.”
He holds up a hand. “Just one minute. There’s another debt you need to pay.”
What the fuck?
“You think we’re just going to let you walk away from this?”
These men are going to do whatever they want, and there isn’t much I can do about it.
Fighting back will only make things worse, but my fists are clenched, power surging through my muscles.
In their faces, I see the three men from the cabin.
The same kind of assholes who think they can hurt an innocent woman and get away with it.
I’m not going to win, and I don’t even care.
Just the impact of fist upon flesh is enough to give me great satisfaction.
I let out a roar and swing almost blindly.
My fist connects with Mateo’s jaw, but it’s three against one.
They surround me. I take the blow of a punch in my lower back, right above my kidney, and then another in the gut.
As I fold in half, a knee comes up and cracks my jaw.
I find myself on the ground, the asphalt still warm from the day’s sun. I have no choice but to curl into a ball, my arms above my head to protect myself the best I can as the kicks and punches keep coming.