KADE
26
I take the turn down the driveway leading to Lilac Meadows too fast. The truck fishtails, tires spitting gravel in every direction. The wheel jerks in my grip, but I don’t slow down. If anything, I press the gas harder.
Rhett mutters something under his breath, gripping the oh-shit handle like it’ll save him. “Jesus Christ, Kade.”
I don’t answer. I don’t need to. Sage’s text is burning a hole in my skull.
She was too formal, and at the same time, too fucking casual. Something is wrong, and if I had to bet money on it, it has to do with fucking Samuel. Why else would she mention his name?
I never liked that fucking sleazeball. Something about him didn’t sit right with me from the moment I met him as a child, and that alone makes my fingers flex around the steering wheel like I’m picturing it wrapped around his goddamn throat. My foot presses harder on the pedal. Faster. Gotta get to Sage.
The truck hits a divot in the dirt road, jolting hard enough to snap me out of my thoughts. Rhett lets out a sharp breath. “Slow the fuck down before you roll us into a ditch.”
I do the opposite. Because I know Sage. And I know Samuel. That rotten bastard has always been just short of needing an exorcism. He’s the kind of man who gives off the same vibe as a vicious animal. The kind that’s been left out in the sun too long, brain boiled to mush, watching every move from the corner of the yard with that dead-eyed stare. The kind who’s just waiting for an opportunity to sink their teeth into something that can’t fight back.
The second the truck grinds to a halt in front of the house, I throw the door open and step out, my boots hitting the dirt hard. I’m already scanning the porch where Sage is sitting on one of the old rocking chairs. I search her face, looking for any sign that she’s hurt. And thankfully, she looks in one piece. Then, she stands, arms wrapped tight around her middle, her stance squared. She looks composed, but I see it. The cracks. The way she’s holding herself together like she’s been stapled back in place.
I don’t hesitate. I take the steps two at a time until I am in front of her, arms gripping her shoulders as I survey her from head to toe. “Sage.” Her name leaves my mouth in a low growl, the kind of sound that precedes bloodshed. “Are you okay, baby?”
She lifts her chin an inch higher, her gaze flicking to me, then over my shoulder at Rhett as he joins us on the porch. “Yeah, I’m good. Now that you’re here.”
Rhett says something, but I barely hear him because my pulse is hammering so loud it drowns everything else out. I feel idiotic for asking if she was okay—because she’s not, I can feel it. Something is very wrong.
“What the fuck happened?” I know—I fucking know—that whatever she says next is going to make me want to rip something apart. And I hope to hell that something is Samuel because all I need is an excuse.
Sage draws in an unsteady breath, eyes shifting to Rhett. She hesitates just for a second but long enough for me to notice. “Not out here.” She turns on her heel and opens the door. “Come inside.”
Rhett and I exchange a glance before following her in. The second I step into the house, her scent surrounds me. That clean, sun-warmed aroma I’ve buried myself in every night for the last week. But tonight, it’s laced with something else. Unease.
Sage moves to the kitchen and gestures toward the table. “Sit.”
I don’t like this. Not one bit. My body is thrumming, wired and ready to kill, but I take a seat anyway. Rhett does too, arms folded, watching her closely .
She leans against the counter, arms crossed. “Samuel was here.”
I already knew that much but hearing it out loud sends a fresh rush of heat under my skin. My knuckles crack as I clench my fists. I bite my lip, holding my composure, not wanting to interrupt her.
Rhett exhales slowly. “What’d he want?”
“He was asking about my dad. I’m guessing he’s tried to reach him without any success.”
A slow, sick smile curls at the edges of my lips. Yeah, I’ve heard the cell service in hell isn’t all that great. I feel my pulse thumping in my neck, the kind of slow, seething anger that turns my vision sharp and bright. “And what’d you tell him?”
Her mouth presses into a thin line. “That I hadn’t heard from him. That he was probably still at the cattle sale.”
I tilt my head slightly, letting her words settle. Smart. She didn’t feed him anything useful. But the fact that he’s already sniffing around means he’s got suspicions. And I don’t fucking like that.
Before I can say anything else, Sage exhales and drops another bomb. “There’s something else.”
“Did he hurt you?” I can’t stop the thought from forming into a possessive bark.
She swallows hard and shakes her head, her fingers tightening around her arms. “No, not me.” Her gaze flicks to Rhett, almost hesitant. “Do you remember that day in the barn when I was out of sorts?”
Rhett frowns, arms still crossed. “Yeah? Did he say something to upset you that day?”
Sage grips the table so tight her knuckles go white. Then she looks right at Rhett. “Not exactly. I believe he’s been the one watching me from the shadows. Now, more than ever. But there’s more.” She hesitates, burying her fingers in her hairline. “Fuck. I’m just gonna spit it out.” She sucks in a breath, then the words rush out on her exhale. “He’s been stealing money from the ranch… and I caught him fucking one of the cows… and he threatened me to keep my mouth shut.”
Silence. Earthquaking fucking silence.
I blink. Then blink again. There is no way I heard that right, is there?
“You’re telling me that sick bastard—” Rhett’s chair scrapes violently against the floor as he shoots to his feet. His jaw is clenched so hard, I hear his teeth grind.
I don’t process the rest because my vision tunnels. Heat, raw and violent, explodes in my chest. A black, seething rage that demands blood. “I’m gonna kill that sick motherfucker. Where is he now?”
“Jesus fuck,” Rhett snarls, pacing now, running a hand through his hair. “That poor goddamn animal—” He slams his fist against the wall, breathing hard, barely holding himself together .
I push my chair back slowly, my movements deliberate. Controlled. My blood is boiling, but my voice is eerily calm. “He’s a dead man.”
Rhett whips his head toward me, eyes blazing. “No, Kade. We’re not killing him.”
I tilt my head. “Why the fuck not?”
“Because we don’t need that heat, not when we’ve still got the fallout from Ridge to deal with. Not to mention, we said we’d go easy on the John fucking Cena ,” Rhett growls, stepping closer, ignoring the curiosity in Sage’s watchful gaze. “We can handle him another way. Make damn sure he knows he’s done here.”
My hands flex into fists. “If he so much as looks at her?—”
“We’ll deal with it,” Rhett cuts in. Deadly. Absolute. Showing the side of himself he normally keeps locked up tight.
I exhale sharply through my nose, barely keeping my temper on a leash. “Fine. He even breathes in her direction, I’m making him disappear. Permanently. I’m sure Ridge would like the company.”
Sage shudders, wrapping her arms around herself. “Where did you, um, you know…” The room goes still. Bury him? She doesn’t finish that thought, but I hear her loud and clear. Her eyes glimmer with a thousand questions, fear dancing in the edges of her gaze. Right now, we’re talking about Samuel, but there’s another secret pressing against her spine—what happened to Ridge’s body?
I glance at Rhett, and he gives a barely perceptible nod. I shift my focus back to Sage. She looks seconds away from snapping, like one wrong word might shatter the fragile hold she has on herself.
“We handled him, Sage. Completely.”
Her throat bobs, and she inhales a shaky breath. “What does that mean?”
Rhett crosses his arms tight over his chest, jaw locked. “We made sure there was nothing left to find,” he says. “Anywhere.”
A flicker of horror flashes across her features. “I—I don’t understand.”
I let the silence stretch for half a second longer than it should, just enough for her to feel it looming. Then, I speak. “Ridge’s body is gone. I promise you, nobody will ever locate him.”
She sucks in a breath, and I see her knuckles whiten on the chair. “How?”
Rhett picks up the thread, voice cold and factual. “He went through the wood chipper. After that, Kade spread him across the field.”
Sage goes pale, her lips parting on a soundless exhale. She presses a hand to her mouth, eyes wide with a mixture of revulsion… and relief. “Jesus Christ,” she whispers.
I nod, slow and unapologetic. “He didn’t feel it, Sage. He was already dead. But we had to be sure no one— no one —would ever connect the dots back to you.”
She stares at me like she’s seeing the devil himself. “And his truck?”
Rhett sighs. “We left it and his phone up near the waterfall where Jonah and Lucy died,” he says quietly. “We’re hoping people will put two and two together and think he couldn’t handle his grief anymore. Especially with the timing being so close to the anniversary of their deaths.”
Sage closes her eyes, shoulders sagging like someone just dropped a hundred-pound weight on her back. “Fuck,” she mumbles, “the anniversary. With everything that’s happened, I forgot it was this week.”
I step forward, my voice dropping to that dangerous murmur I know she listens to. “No one’s coming for you, Sage. No one’s coming for us . It’s handled.”
She swallows, eyes darting between me and Rhett. I wish I could climb into her head and figure out how she’s feeling, because right now, she seems immobilized by shock, going through the motions with clipped acknowledgment. “Handled,” she repeats like she’s testing the word. “And Samuel? What do we do with him? He’s gonna be a problem.”
Rhett’s gaze darkens. “Tomorrow,” he says, flicking a glance at me, “we pay him a visit. Make it real clear he’s got no place here anymore. ”
I bare my teeth in something that might pass for a grin if you don’t look too closely. “If he doesn’t take the hint well…”
Rhett levels me with a glare. “We handle it. But not with any more blood than we need to spill.”
I shrug, but my hands flex at my sides like I’m already picturing them wrapped around Samuel’s throat. “As long as he keeps away from her.”
Sage exhales shakily, an uneasy mix of repose and dread flickering across her face. “So that’s it? No one’s going to find out about Dad? Should we maybe get ahead of this, report him missing before Samuel does?”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Rhett agrees. “It will allow us to control the narrative. If we paint them an unstable picture of Ridge’s mental state, it could work in our favor.”
“I agree.” My eyes find Sage’s. “After we deal with Samuel tomorrow, we can make the call. It will buy us some time to get the story straight.”
“And you’re only gonna threaten Samuel, right?” Sage queries.
Rhett gives her a curt nod. “Nothing more. Nothing less. Unless he forces our hand.”
Sage drags her palm down her face, breathing out a long, trembling sigh. She looks at me, then at Rhett, then back again. Tears shine in her eyes, but she doesn’t let them fall. “Okay,” she whispers. “Okay. ”
Silence wraps around us for a moment, heavy with everything we’ve done—and everything we’re about to do.
I finally let my gaze slide back to Rhett, an unspoken understanding passing between us. Tomorrow we’ll deal with Samuel. And if he doesn’t listen, we’ll deal with that, too.
Is it wrong of me to hope for the latter?