Chapter 48
Forty-Eight
SEBA
A Few Hours Earlier
I flick the butt of my cigarette out of the truck’s window. It’s too damn hot to keep it rolled down. By the heatwaves shimmering off the pavement, I’d guess the real-feel is closer to a buck twenty. In other words, a shitty day for this shitty habit.
As soon as the glass slots in place, I crank up the AC and fidget with my playlist again. Not that I can hear much over the rumbling plane engines. Speaking of planes— his should be at the gate by now.
Tremors start in my fingers, working up my hands.
The saliva in my mouth turns gummy.
I’ve waited over four years for this day. Now that it’s here… I’m second-guessing my decision. Maybe I should’ve let Declan pick him up. What if he refuses to get in the car? This was a mistake. What the hell am I doing?
The tinted doors of the terminal open and suddenly, nothing else in the world exists.
It’s him.
It’s really him.
Cade.
Silvery blonde hair glows in the afternoon sun, the breeze tousling the longer strands on top. Even in an oversized tee and baggy jeans, I can tell he’s lean but no longer rail-thin. He pauses at the curb, adjusting a duffel on his shoulder, his corded arm flexing as he clutches the strap.
He looks around. Checks his phone. Frowns.
Molten sparks rain on the barren wasteland beneath my skin, igniting a wildfire. I shift into drive and cut across to two lanes, adrenaline and anticipation spiking my pulse.
His attention locks on the truck.
If I weren’t a selfish bastard, I would’ve let his dad do this.
But I am a selfish bastard and he’s finally within reach.
I roll down the window—
Tonka and musk.
Waves of nostalgia wash over me. The hardened organ in my chest aches, its limp beat echoing off the walls of my hollow chest. I crave the shape and weight of his body. His breath on my lips. His eyes, his eyes, his eyes. God, I missed those eyes.
A pair of mirrored lenses shields them from me.
Take them off. I want to see you.
We’re caught in a pocket of time— the present paused while the past stretches between us. His throat bobs. Then his jaw clenches.
“Dad was supposed to get me.”
Ice. Cold.
Expecting his detached tone and experiencing it are two completely different things.
“I offered.” I nod at his duffel. “Is that your only bag?”
His fingers curl tighter around the nylon strap. “Yeah. Not much room for knick-knacks in a padded room.”
Still as bitchy and sarcastic as ever. It’s like a full body exhale. I breathe out a laugh.
His brows knit. “What’s so funny?”
Grinning, I unlock the car. “You.”
Outwardly, he’s expressionless, but the air around us is charged with electrons at war. Only this time, it’s mine trying to break in and his holding the line. Unfortunately for him, I was a linebacker and a damn determined one.
“Come on, Troublemaker, get in before I get a ticket.”
He hesitates and my heart shoots up my throat. He can’t be destined to slip through my fingers again. The minutes tick by as I wait for his decision. Finally, he shuffles an inch closer to the truck.
“Can we make a few pit stops?”
Negotiating. I’ll take it.
“How many are we talking?”
“Is that a yes?”
“Depends on where.”
I swear his lip twitches. Score for Seba.
“It shouldn’t matter.”
“It does ‘cause if we're going out of the way, I need to let your dad know we’re gonna be late and then we gotta hit the gas station to fill up the truck. I’ve got maybe ten miles ’til E.”
“So we have to make a stop anyway,” he counters.
I sigh, “Just tell me where you wanna go, darlin, and I’ll take you.”
He stiffens. Shit. Probably shouldn’t have called him that. I wish he’d take those fucking sunglasses off so I can gauge what he’s thinking. But he keeps them on, hiding behind them. Hiding from me.
Come on, baby. I know there’s a viper beneath that pretty face. Show me your fangs. Bite me. Fight me. I’ll be your willing victim.
As if hearing me, his upper lip curls into a frustrated snarl. He rips the passenger door open, chucking his duffel in first, then slumping in the bucket seat with his arms crossed over his chest.
“Coffee. And cigarettes.”
I reach into the cupholder and toss the opened box of cigarettes— his favorite brand— into his lap, followed by the lighter.
“The fuck you have these for?”
“I think it’s pretty obvious,” I shrug and drape my arm over the back of his seat to check my blind spot before pulling away from the curb. Can’t have him changing his mind now.
He mutters something under his breath, hiking a knee to his chest as he cracks the window and lights up. He’s pressed against the door like he can’t get far enough away from me.
It stings.
His eyes close as he exhales a stream of smoke. “Just one pit stop, I guess.”
I nod, the dull ache in my heart returning. I would’ve chauffeured him all around town if it meant having him to myself a little longer. I would’ve made up any excuse. Canceled every plan. Risked my cover. Anything to be alone with him.
The cab bounces as we turn onto State Road 40. On cue, we pass a hand-painted sign attached to a chain-link fence– God’s Plan: One man, One Woman.
For fuck’s sake, Cade’s been back for less than twenty minutes and the universe— or God himself— is already punching me in the face with warnings. Staring at the road ahead, I extend a hand toward him.
“Mind giving me one of those?”
I can feel his stare burning into my cheek.
“Who the fuck are you and what did you do with Saint Seba?”
I snort. “Haven’t been called that in a minute.”
“Four years, actually.”
My fingers tighten on the wheel as memories fight to suck me under. I’m losing the battle, buckling under the suffocating boulder of guilt and longing that's been slowly crushing me to death ever since that night.
“One thousand, six hundred and thirty-two days,” I murmur.
“What?”
“That’s how long it’s been.”
His silence is a noose.
Rustling. A moment later, a cigarette lands in my open palm. I wedge it in the corner of my mouth. He flicks the zippo, the flame dancing dangerously close to my face. But all I can focus on is how close his fingers are to my lips.
I catch his eye and lean in to light up.
His gaze dips to my mouth.
I exhale a stream of smoke.
He licks his lips.
The car swerves. Probably should keep an eye on the road, dumbass. I quickly correct and clear my throat. “Which coffee shop you wanna hit?”