KADE
27
Night settles heavily around Lilac Meadows, and the kitchen light glares far too bright—like it’s mocking everything we’ve done. I’m at the island, turning the sobriety chip between my fingers, spinning the metal disc with a faint click each time it catches the light. It’s my restless habit— flip, flip, flip —the only thing keeping the storm in my head from ripping me apart.
Across the room, Sage fusses over a barely there pile of dishes. She’s rinsing the same plate again, eyes distant. Rhett returned to Black River an hour ago, leaving us in this too-bright kitchen light, shining on our secrets.
Finally, I slip the chip into my pocket and push off the island, circling behind her at the sink. She doesn’t turn, just keeps scrubbing.
“Sage. ”
No reaction. Another pass of the sponge—water dripping off a plate that’s already spotless.
“Sage.”
She exhales a low, tired sound. “Kade.” Just my name, hushed.
“Come here.”
She hesitates, shoulders tense. “I’m almost done.”
I can’t stand the distance for a second longer. Carefully, I set my hands on the countertop at either side of her waist, caging her with my chest to her back. She goes still, breath catching like she’s trying not to unravel. “You’re not fooling me, Wildflower,” I murmur near her ear.
She stops scrubbing, letting the plate clatter into the sink. “I know,” she whispers.
For a heartbeat, she clings to the edge, knuckles whitening. Then she turns, pivoting in my hold. Her eyes flick up, rimmed with guilt.
“Kade,” she begins, voice shaky. “Sorry. I’m just thinking about calling the sheriff tomorrow.” She swallows hard. “What if they question me?”
“Stick to the story.” My tone is firm, but I soften my expression for her sake. “You saw him the night before he left. He seemed more off than usual, depressed about the anniversary of Jonah’s death coming up. He was drinking pretty heavily, but you knew there was no point talking him into going to bed. The next morning, you woke to an empty house, so you figured he’d already left for the cattle sale. You tried calling a few times but got radio silence.”
She gives a short, humorless laugh. “Not a lie.”
“Exactly.” I brush a hand down her arm. “Small town. Once they see his truck at the waterfall, they’ll write it off as suicide. The sheriff’s department isn’t gonna question something they’d rather not deal with. Everyone knows how your dad’s been for years, Sage. Hell, he’s barred from every bar in a three-town radius.”
She nods, but there’s no relief. Her gaze skitters away, and she turns again, snagging a dish towel like she can’t stop moving. I sigh, stepping up behind her once more, easing an arm around her waist, pressing my chest to her back.
“What’s going on in that head of yours?” I murmur, voice low, lips near her hair.
She sets the towel aside, shoulders trembling.
“I can’t stop replaying that night. The night I…” Her breath catches. “The night I killed him .”
A tremor runs through her. “You saved yourself,” I remind her, roughening my voice. “You said it yourself, he wasn’t ever gonna stop.”
She sucks in a shaky breath, tears clinging to her lashes. “I know. But it doesn’t diminish the nightmares. Everywhere I look, I see him, smell the blood, feel that damn trophy in my hand?— ”
I cradle her cheek, guiding her to face me. “He got what he deserved.” Damn right, he did.
A small, choked sob escapes her. “I killed my father, Kade. How do I live with that?”
“Sometimes, it’s the only way out,” I say, dead certain. “You’re here, alive—he’s not.” And if you had to choose again, I’d pick the same outcome in a heartbeat. “Never regret killing a monster, Sage.” I sure don’t regret Toby.
Her eyes dart to my pocket. “That chip… you always flip it around when you’re edgy.”
“Yeah.” I pull it out, letting it glint under the fluorescent light. “Always been my talisman, I guess.” I weigh it in my palm, then meet her eyes. “Heads or tails?”
She blinks, confusion mingling with tears. “What?”
My heart kicks up. If she picks tails, I’ll finally tell her about Toby. Telling her might break that last piece of innocence, but I can’t keep it hidden any longer. “Humor me,” I say, voice low. “Heads or tails, Sage?” Flip, flip, flip .
She hesitates, lip quivering slightly. Then, “Tails.”
A quiet exhale escapes me. That decides it. I set the chip on the counter, letting the tail side glimmer for a second before I tuck it into my jeans. “There’s something I need to tell you”—I pause, steeling myself—“about Toby.”
She goes rigid, fresh tears gathering. “Toby?”
I nod. “He didn’t just vanish, Sage.”
Her lips part, voice unsteady. “I… suspected or at least ha d a feeling. You threatened him, then he was gone. But I got messages from his phone?—”
“I sent them,” I admit. “Needed the world to think he was still out there, so nobody poked around.”
She breathes hard, tears slipping down her cheeks. “I guess I knew, deep down, that you?—”
“Ended him,” I say, each word deliberate. “He laid hands on you one too many times. I made sure he’d never touch you again.”
Her eyes glisten, tears trembling on her lashes. “Does it scare me? Maybe it should. But not enough to change how I feel about you. While you were busy burning the world down for me, I was busy falling for you. I love you, Kade Rivers.”
Gently, I press my forehead to hers. “I love you, too, Wildflower. And I’m not sorry for protecting you,” I murmur, voice rough. “Not for Toby, not for disposing of Ridge. I’d do it all again if it means you’re safe.”
She exhales, leaning closer. Something in my chest loosens a bit, the tension easing. “I know,” she breathes. “And I probably should be horrified at how far you’d go, but I’m… weirdly grateful.”
We stand like that for a few seconds, the faucet dripping into the sink—a slow, accusing rhythm reminding us of what’s been washed away. I lower my mouth to her forehead, dropping a kiss above the crinkle between her brows .
She closes her eyes, shuddering. “Are you gonna kill Samuel?”
A dark spike of anger twists in my chest. The image of that bastard near her makes my blood run hot. “As much as I’d love to remove that filthy cow-fucking piece of shit from the earth, Rhett’s right. It’d raise too many eyebrows.” I drag in a frustrated breath. “We’ll handle him the old-fashioned way. Show him he’s done here.”
She lifts her gaze, tears still clinging but no longer falling. “I trust you.”
I hold her closer, pressing a soft kiss to her temple. “If he so much as breathes your name, I’ll bide my time and bury him, too.”
And this time, I’ll smile while I do it.
She trembles not in fear but with relief while closing her eyes. “Okay.”
Silence settles, tense yet carrying a note of acceptance. Tomorrow, we lie to the sheriff and spin the final piece of the story about Ridge. Tomorrow, we corner Samuel.
“Kade?” she asks quietly.
“Yeah?”
Her gaze flicks to my pocket where I tucked the medallion. “That chip… It’s not yours, is it? You said it’s your talisman. But I’ve never seen you drink.”
My chest tightens. “It was my dad’s,” I say softly. “When I was younger, he told me he’d started abusing alcohol after he married Mom. It got worse after Rhett was born till he decided to clean up for his kids. He collected these chips—one for each milestone in AA. When he died, I found them all in a box and kept ’em.”
She softens. “I’m sorry.”
I blow out a slow breath, thumb over the chip’s worn edge. “He used to say, ‘Life’s a gamble, kid. Every decision is as fickle as a coin toss, but it’s up to you to choose wisely. You pick the wrong side, you’ll never find your way back.’” A short, humorless laugh bursts from my lips. “So now, whenever I’m at a crossroads—good, bad, or ugly—I flip it and go with whatever side I land on.”
Sage’s eyes glisten. “So that’s how you…”
“Decided to kill Toby,” I finish quietly.
She touches my cheek. “Then in a twisted way, your dad led us here?”
I swallow, the chip’s metal biting into my palm like a brand. “Guess so.”
She sighs, pressing closer. “I’m glad he brought us together, cause I’ve never known love like this.”
“I promise you, Wildflower, you’ll never feel alone again. You’re it for me, and I plan to make sure you know unconditional love every day for the rest of your life.”
We lapse into a hush, thinking of all the monstrous, desperate, bloody decisions that brought us here. In the end, we’re alive, together .
“Thank you for protecting me,” Sage whispers, resting her head on my shoulder.
I brush a kiss over her hair. “Whatever it takes, baby.” Even if it means stacking up a few more bodies when no one’s looking.